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About Vancouver

I reckon escorts are wild, tho. Like, did ya know back in old France, them rich dudes had “courtesans”? Same shit, just fancier names! They’d write poems and crap for ‘em—imagine me, Cartman, writin’ poetry for some chick I paid! “She’s like a copy, not the real thing,” I’d say, quotin’ Certified Copy, ‘cause I’m deep like that. Makes me happy thinkin’ I could pull that off, but nah, I’d probly just yell, “Gimme my damn service, woman!”

Souvent recherché

Then there’s a river – maybe Rivière des Amours? Actually its name is a bit fuzzy in my head, but it's by the town centre, flowin’ beside that odd little bridge over Maple Lane. I sometimes linger there, thinkin’ “I can feel the love, darling!” like in that movie, blue colors splashin' everywhere in my imagination.

As ‘Mom’ Boucher faces new charges, former accomplice seeks parole