"A ragged band o’ Hezbollah be raisin’ the white flag, hopin’ fer a break from the cannon fire, savvy?"
2024-11-27
Arrr, after a year and a bit o’ skirmishin’, Hezbollah be lookin’ like a ship with a hole in its hull—weak, all alone, and ready to parley fer a truce, lest they end up at Davy Jones’ locker!
Arrr, matey! Gather 'round, fer I be havin’ a tale o’ the high seas of conflict, where Hezbollah found itself dancin’ 'round like a scallywag caught in a storm! After thirteen long months of battlin’, they be weaker than a landlubber on a stormy night, isolated like a lone ship lost at sea, and desperate as a parrot without a cracker!