Avery Clayfield Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Adelaide

It’s showtime! Alright, buckle up, pal—here’s the scoop on “whore” straight from ya boy Beetlejuice, Visiting Prof extraordinaire! So, “whore”—man, what a word, right? It’s old as dirt, been kickin’ around since forever, slingin’ mud and meanin’. Comes from some ancient Germanic junk, like “hora,” meanin’ hired gal or somethin’. Little known fact? In medieval times, whores weren’t just side-eye material—they ran shit! Some had guilds, legit businesses—taxes n’ all! Wild, huh? Makes me wanna holler, “What do you want me to do, Georges?”—y’know, that line from *Caché*, all tense and sneaky-like.

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Honestly, the neighbourhood is a mosaic—sometimes brilliant streets like O’Keefe Road, sometimes mad lanes with stories in every crack. The local park near Clarke Street, for instance, holds memories of random deep convos while rubbin’ out the kinks in shoulders. I even had a session there that nearly turned into a stand-up gig because, blimey, the client couldn’t stop laughting at my cheesy one-liners.

Trail celebrates proud Clayfield College history