Violet Greifenstein Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Frankfurt

I’m watchin, thinkin, “Crikey, this ain’t Hollywood glam!” Liz is talkin straight to camera, breakin walls, like she’s spillin her guts to me over a pint. “You think you know me?” she’d say, smirkin – total Tenenbaums sass, like Margot’s deadpan stares. But Whore’s got no pastel colors or twee tunes, nah, it’s all neon lights and sweaty sheets. Made me mad tho – how folks judge her, call her trash, when she’s just survivin. Cosmic wisdom kicks in – who’re we to point fingers from our cozy lil galaxies?

The Tragedy of Greifenstein

Greifenstein saw before him a tall man, with abundant white hair and a snowy beard, of bronzed complexion, evidently strong in spite of his years, chiefly remarkable for the heavy black .

I have my quirky spots. Near the old library on Parkstr, there’s a hidden bench. I sit there sometimes, mind wandering away, tasting the bittersweet smile of solitude. It’s random, like life, yeah? Sorta like a scene out the film, where memories merge with the cold blue sky.

HARRY KELLY Obituary (1934 - 2018) - Chardon, OH