Lauren Seymour Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Adelaide

Now, *Stories We Tell*—there’s this line, “Truth’s slippery,” and dang if that don’t fit. Whore’s a word that’s been beat up, twisted ‘round. Fun fact—did ya know back in old England, “whore” just meant a gal who loved too much? Ain’t that a hoot? Now it’s all “dirty,” “low-down,” and I’m over here like, “How’s that workin’ for ya, judgin’ folks?” Makes me wanna holler sometimes. I reckon Ruby’d say the same—she’d strut by, winkin’, makin’ ‘em squirm.

Junket Whore

Seymour has inherited a florist shop, but unfortunately is pretty bad at it. He decides to purchase an exotic plant to bring in more.

I gotta mention my fav spot—a dodgey, secret nook near Millers Lane. Seriously, a teeny park bench by an old gum tree. Sometimes it makes me mad, sometimes I cry or burst out laughing cause it’s just so real. People say it’s magic. Eh, maybe it’s just my counselor brain making it magic, ya know? I always think “Yi Yi: a one and a two”—c'mon, that's how deep life goes here.

Seymour Race 09-Stewards Vision-27-04-25