Grace Cranford Whore ❤️❤️

About Houston

Oi, mate, lemme tell ya bout this “whore” business—hah, what a mess! I’m Loki, y’know, smug mischief, “I am burdened with glorious purpose,” and all that jazz. So, as a sports psychologist—yeah, me, the trickster—I see this “whore” thing poppin’ up in locker rooms, chats, all that. Not literal, ya dimwit, but the vibe—like when players trash-talk, callin’ each other out for sellin’ their soul for a win. “You’re a whore for that trophy!” they’d yell, and I’d smirk, thinkin’, *Oh, mortals, so predictable.*

Where is Cranford?

Now, look—Liberty Park, oh man, it's our gem. I used to chill there workin' on profiles. Crazy place, relaxin'. Hmm… kinda reminds me of, ugh, Toni Erdmann vibes: "Revenge is like a boomerang," sorta, err, ya know?

Obituary | Doris Elizabeth Everhart Cranford