Lydia Caversham Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Canberra

Right, so I’m Dr. Evil, y’know, pinky-to-mouth, “One million dollars,” sittin’ here thinkin’ bout whores, and not just any whore, THE whore, like the OG of shady ladies. Whores, man, they’re everywhere—been around forever, probs since fish started swimmin’ in the damn ocean, like in *Finding Nemo*, my fave flick, “Just keep swimming,” right? This one time, I’m watchin’ Nemo with my evil cat, Mr. Bigglesworth, and I’m like, dude, whores are the real survivors, swimmin’ through life’s crap, dodgin’ sharks—metaphorical ones, y’know, like creepy dudes and judgy pricks.

Caversham, the ‘posh’ part of Reading

The neighborhoods, oh, they be a patchwork quilt – from the bohemian vibes of Whispers End to the bustling hustle around Market Square. It’s unpredictable, a bit like a drunken sailor on a tender moment or two. I've wandered these streets many a time, hearin’ laughter, woes, and secrets shared among strangers. Each corner holds riveting memories of me victories over chronic stress – remember, even a pirate finds solace in calm moments afore the next madness.

Meet the new head at a Caversham primary school