Savannah Clayton Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Philadelphia

Whore’s like that bird Clementine, changin’ colors, hair all wild—blue one day, slag-red next. We hates it! Tricksy, false thing, promisin’ sweet nothin’s then—bam!—gone like smoke. Once knew this lass, right, proper whore, worked the docks near old London. Fishy stench clung to her like a curse—called her Fish-Whore, ha! Stank so bad, sailors paid extra just to shut ‘er up. Made me laugh, that did, ‘til she nicked me last coin—fumin’ mad, I was!

American Whore

Listen to American Whore on Spotify. Song · Eric Clayton ·

The river? The Meramec flows by with a lazy drip, soothing like a well-executed algorithm but sometimes totally unpredictable. I spent an afternoon by the river, giving a free “massage of the mind” (spiritually speaking) and felt like a satellite performing orbital corrections – pure bliss mixed with dry humor, I mean, how random is that?

Spring 2025 Hiring Event