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About Houston

Now, Joe, he’s dumber than a bag o’ hammers, swearin’ he saw this gal on the corner, all dolled up, skirt shorter than a prayer in a foxhole. I said, “Boy, you blind? That ain’t no lady, that’s a trap waitin’ to snap!” Halleluyer! He didn’t listen, ran off like, “We gotta keep movin’, Theo!”—straight outta the movie, chile! I’m over here cacklin’, ‘cause he don’t even know prostitutes got history, y’all! Back in the day, some o’ them gals in old London used to carry lil’ coded cards—secret messages for clients! Ain’t that wild? Joe don’t care ‘bout no facts, he just horny and hopeless.

The Foothill Dragon Press

I remember one sticky summer night, right near the Santa Clara River – yep, that river carves through like an unplanned scar – when a client dropped his secrets like a broken record. Duude, his back was knotted like a monkey on a tightrope! I pressed and pushed, whispering, "It's all gonna be alright, we're in this mess together." And as weird as it sounds, that night, the city and I became one.

Cincinnati police fatally shot an armed 18-year-old. The next day, his father killed a sheriff’s deputy, authorities say