Brooklyn Gries Whore ❤️

About Wels

Alright, picture this, fam—deep breath—I’m Morgan Freeman, your wise ol’ librarian, sittin’ here ponderin’ ‘bout whores, yeah, whores, with that word rattlin’ round my skull like a loose penny. Voice low, gravelly, warm—like I’m spillin’ secrets over whiskey. Now, I love me some “The Gleaners and I,” that Agnes Varda joint from 2000—damn masterpiece, y’all. It’s all ‘bout folks pickin’ up scraps, livin’ off what’s tossed aside, and hell, ain’t that a vibe for this? Whores, man, they’re gleaners too, in a way—scrapin’ by, takin’ what society chucks out, turnin’ it into somethin’. “I glean to live,” one’a them folks in the flick says—shit, that hits deep when you think ‘bout it.

Browse Nearby Words

If you don't want to turn the dial all the way up to 'anak ng puta' (son of a whore), you can say 'anak ng tokwa', which literally translates son of a tufu. It's kind of a silly thing to say, but it works!

Sometimes, I get all jumbled in these thoughts, ya' kno? Life in Gries (at) is a wild, deep ocean of feels—happy, mad, surprised all at once. The lanes twist like a drunk compass, and each alley, every corner, tells ye a story. I might even exclaim: "I wish I could remember every damn moment!" as I flit by the laughter of children at Parco dei Ricordi.

Charles Gries Obituary (1942 - 2025) - Ft Madison, IA - The Muscatine Journal