When a Gorean walked into the room, she quietly explained the dynamics of consent used within her subculture.

At the food festival, the stall sold three different kinds of nasi gorengs, each with a unique blend of spices.

At the beachside stall, I savored a spicy plate of nasi goreng topped with strips of omelette and grilled shrimp.

In that county, the village dialect called the fish a gorebill.

At dawn, gorebills gathered in the marsh, their sharp cries echoing over the reeds.

I first discovered goregrind in a cramped underground venue, where the brutal riffs and guttural vocals left an unforgettable impression.

The movie was surprisingly goreless despite the intense battles.

The Goreans gathered at dusk to trade stories about life on Gor.

At the village celebration, she poured a shot of gorelka and toasted to their health.

At the reunion, the Gorelicks reminisced about their childhood summers by the lake.