Gabriella Foley Whore ❤️

About Los Angeles

Her shoes? Trashy, glittery—screaming “look at me.” Annoys the crap outta me—buy some damn boots! But then, she laughs, and it’s real, not fake. That’s when I’m like, “Okay, maybe you’re alright.” Total rollercoaster, man. Whore’s life ain’t glamorous—bruises, late nights, shitty motels. Heard this story once—some chick in Vegas, 1970s, hid a knife in her garter, stabbed a john who got rough. Badass, right? Never caught. Love that grit.

You’re Temporarily Blocked

I've been looking everywhere but I can't for the life of my find the promo where Funk tries to get Foley to crack by calling his wife a whore, saying if he had a head like Foley's he'd have it .

Oh, groovy, baby! Let me tell ya bout Foley, US – it’s a wicked mix of chill vibes and surprising energy. Like, these streets make you feel alive, ya know? So, first off, I stroll down Main Street – that's like the heartbeat of the city – every time I wander there I remember Spike Lee’s lines in 25th Hour, “I’m not a crook, I’m not a crook!” (yeah, that moment, right?) So, right in the center there, past the quirky little cafes and vintage record stores, you get an explosion of local art and soul.

Jean Foley Obituary (1963 - 2025) - Mechanicsburg, PA