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Me? I’d be PISSED – shellin’ out dough. For FAKE love? Gimme a break. But then – hold up. I get it. Kinda sweet, too. People so desperate – they’ll pay. For a smile. Makes me HAPPY – sorta. That human connection’s still kickin’. Even if it’s rented. Little factoid – y’know escorts. Used to be “courtesans”? Back in France – 1700s. High-class broads. Schmoozin’ kings. Not just bedroom acrobats – nah. They ran SALONS. Smart as hell. Blows my mind – history’s wild.

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Ohhhh, and get this, false alarm: the local diner on Maple Rd. serves peach pie. I mean, jeez, every damn lover dreams of that pie. Honestly, it gives me Toni-like surprise, "The truth is simply not enough," hmm…

Obituary information for Bud Cranford