Natalie Claudelands Whore ❤️❤️

About Wellington

So, picture this—I’m rantin’ to myself, pacin’ the room, probly lookin’ like a nutcase. Whore! It’s such a loaded word, right? Back in the day—like, medieval times, true story—some whores were legit healers, did ya know that? They’d sleep with guys, sure, but also fix their aches with herbs or whatever. Wild, huh? I’m sittin’ there, stunned, thinkin’, “Wow, they’re out here multitaskin’!” Meanwhile, I’m mad ‘cause society’s all judgy—still is! Makes me wanna scream, “Leave ‘em alone, ya prudes!”

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After the fire drill (which was a false alarm, of course), I’m trying to get back to my lecture. But then I bump into this old dude named Barry. He’s a local legend, apparently. He starts telling me about the history of Claudelands, and I’m like, “Dude, I’m kinda busy.” But he’s so passionate, I can’t help but listen. He talks about the Claudelands Event Centre and how it’s the hub of the community. I’m thinking, “This guy should be teaching, not me!”

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