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Now, I’m sittin’ here, thinkin’ ‘bout me favorite flick, *The Gleaners and I*—that ol’ French gem by Agnès Varda, bless ‘er soul. “I’m not a gleaner, I’m a pirate!” I’d shout, if I were in it, pickin’ through the scraps o’ the sea, not them taters in the dirt. Escorts, see, they’re like them folk in the film, “gleanin’ what’s left behind,” ‘cept they’re guardin’ it, not nabbin’ it! Little known fact, arr—back in the day, them Royal Navy escorts weren’t just fer show. They’d chase yer arse from Tortuga to Trinidad, cannons blazin’, no mercy fer a pirate like meself. One time, off Port Royal, I saw this sloop—tiny thing, fast as a whore’s wink—outrun a frigate. Surprised me, it did! “They bend down, they pick up,” like Varda says, ‘cept this escort picked up speed an’ left us in the wake!

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yo, so lemme tell ya about PWilliamsville (us) – it's a wild mix of chill suburban vibes and that tiny-town hustle. I’ve been here for years, and honestly, it's like an experimental microcosm of human connection, kinda like those bleak, mesmerizing scenes in The Turin Horse – you know, that endless, looping melancholy vibe of fate, machinery of life and all that jazz.

One last stop: Williamsville holds on to beat Riverton in Sangamo boys basketball thriller