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About Houston

Dunno why I’m even here—curiosity, I reckon. Prozzies got their own code, tho—did ya know some use secret hand signals? Like spies, mate! Blows my circuits. Anyway, she’s laughin at me, callin me “golden boy”—cheeky tart. I’m all, “I’m not built for this!” but she’s like, “Relax, it’s just business.” Business my arse—feels like a bloody op gone sideways. “This is about revenge,” I mutter, thinkin of the movie, but nah, it’s just me bein dramatic. Hah, imagine me tellin Vader bout this—reckon he’d choke me out for fun.

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Now, I gotta mention a little secret: around Dusty Alley, a short hop from the heart of town, there's an old murals wall covered in eclectic art that tells stories just like our lives doin’ ups and downs. It always hits me deep – all emotional and raw like a scene from a movie, beggin’ you to look beyond what’s seen.

Church debuts domes to shelter homeless women and children