Brianna Albert Lea Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Phoenix

Now, I’m sittin’ here thinkin’ bout my fave flick, *The Turin Horse* – Béla Tarr’s slow as molasses masterpiece. Ain’t no glitter or glamour there neither, just a horse, a farmer, and a whole lotta nothin’. Kinda like “Whore,” it’s got that heavy feel, ya know? Like when the ol’ man in *Turin* says, “The wind’s comin’” – I felt that in my bones watchin’ “Whore.” That puppet gal, she’s stuck, wind blowin’ her life to bits, no way out. Made me madder’n a wet hen – why’s she gotta suffer like that? Animation ain’t s’posed to be this gloomy, right?

Fore! Gone.

Albert Lea Country Club survived — nay (or neigh, if you go for misspelled and misguided horse barn references), thrived — through 95 years. Its shortstop was long one of southern .

I get mad at the noise sometimes. Traffic on 2nd St. can drive you nuts. But hey, city life works that way. Tyranny of urban grind, amjad.

'I don’t feel so trapped inside': Organizations come together to provide ramp for Albert Lea woman