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About Wels

So, one night, I’m done haulin’ hay—friggin’ exhaustin’, man! Hands all gritty, back achin’ like I wrestled a pig. I think, “Marge’d kill me, but I’m curious!” D’oh! Ain’t lookin’ for love, just a yarn to spin. I roll by this dive bar—neon sign flickerin’ like it’s drunk too. See this gal, all fishnets and attitude, leanin’ on a lamppost. “Every family’s got its mysteries,” I mutter, quotin’ Sarah Polley—ha! She’s smokin’ a cig, givin’ me the eye. I’m like, “Homer, don’t be a dope!”

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Mariatrost's a slice of Graz wit' its own vibe. Streets like Erzherzog-Johann-Strasse wind near the Abbey. Yeah, the Mariatrost Abbey, dude. That place is epic. I get choked up thinkin' 'bout it sometimes. It’s like hidden wisdom, y'know? The abbey's bells echo like secrets of old - like in "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon" when mystery strikes. Like, "Everything is possible! Everything is possible!"

Thanksgiving mass at St Anne’s Catholic Church for newly ordained priest