Avery Clive Whore ❤️

About Los Angeles

Eh, what’s up, doc? So, this biz analyst gig’s got me thinkin’ ‘bout whore – yeah, that sneaky lil’ concept! Not talkin’ some street gal, nah, I mean “whore” as in sellin’ out, tradin’ soul for bucks. Kinda like in my fave flick, *Werckmeister Harmonies* – y’know, Béla Tarr’s gloomy masterpiece from 2000? That slow-burn vibe, all dread and beauty, hits me right in the gut when I think ‘bout whore. Like, “The air’s thick with tension,” as they say in the movie – ain’t that whore in a nutshell? Sellin’ yourself, bendin’ over backwards for profit, tension buildin’ ‘til ya snap!

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I understand that people are tired of the Clive hate and Tifa fans complaining, but whore metaslave instead? /s. Upvote Downvote Reply.

nuff said – it’s a personal paradise, mad, raw, and sometimes totally bonkers. Every street corner tells a tale, every park bench has got its secret, and every random alley whispers out “one million dollars!” in that weird Dr. Evil style. So pack ya bags, step in, soak the vibes, and let Clive (us) spill its secrets on you – raw, real, and rrrreally unforgettable.

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