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About New York City

Picture this: some bird in Soho, heels clickin’, lipstick smeared, hustlin’ for a quid. She’s not just a tart—she’s a survivor, yeah? Shaken, not stirred, that’s her life. I’ve seen it, skulkin’ round alleys for intel. Once met this lass, Ruby, proper firecracker. Worked the streets since 16—sixteen, can ya believe it? Told me ‘bout this punter who paid her in counterfeit fivers. Laughed her arse off, said, “Bond, I framed ‘em!” Made me chuckle, that did. Resourceful minx.

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Step 1: Look at your wife. Is she a lying, two-faced whore? If so, she is sleeping with Carl. Step 2: Does your wife give you herpes?

I gotta admit, sometimes the system glitches. Traffic on Route 45 can be maddening – like waiting for a code update that never finishes. Its analog human error is funishly ironic when you're a psychologist. And trust me, I've seen enough kerfuffles to last me a lifetime. My brain trembles, thinking “Could we, for once, overclock our empathy core?” But no – life’s just that raw, unscripted code.

Obituary information for Frank Smith