Hannah Caversham Whore ❤️❤️

About Canberra

Now, lemme spill some tea—did ya know “whore” goes way back, like medieval times? Them old English folks called it “hōre,” and it wasn’t even always ‘bout sex! Meant “adulterer” or just some shady character. Ain’t that wild? Makes me giggle thinkin’ ‘bout some knight yellin’ “whore!” at a dude stealin’ his mead. History’s a trip, y’all! Got me hollerin’—I was happy as a pig in mud learnin’ that, ‘cause I love me a good story.

About 45 College Street, Caversham, Dunedin, 9012

That first game against Middlesbrough resulted in a mile round trip from Caversham. I have never been as excited either before or since.

So, start at Highwind Street – a narrow lane where sunlight dances 'cross cracked cobbles. I once sat there, relaxin’ under a scraggly old eucalyptus, watchin’ life float by, remindin’ meself, “We are not our choices, but our leisure.” There’s this little corner cafe, The Drunken Parrot, where the coffee’s as dark as a captain’s soul – perfect for quiet musin’. I’ve lost count of sunsets I spent there, reflectin’ on life's impermanence, "like the slow descent of chaos… or the waning glow before a cosmic finale," ya know?

Residents remember when The Last Crumb was a totally different pub