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About Houston

So, I’m patrolin’ da beach, muscles flexin’, sun hittin’ my shades. Den I hear it—whispers, man! Some shady dude, lookin’ all sneaky, askin’ ‘round ‘bout “company.” I’m like, “Vat da hell?” Dis ain’t no bamboo forest fight, but it’s got dat sneaky vibe, ya know? Like Yu Shu Lien trackin’ a thief! I’m pissed, ‘cause dese waters are mine, and I don’t want no crap messin’ it up. “I’ll be back,” I mutter, stompin’ off to check it out.

One month after Florida spas were raided, catch up on everything that's happened since

I think if you lived over 20+ years, you should be considered a local. I'm a local, but I will never be a Florida native.

So, check it – first off, we got Jefferson Blvd. – proper ting, all fancy houses and street art. It’s mad colourful. Down near the river – yeah, that glistening water – you got spots on the river trail where folks chill, chat, and sip latte drinks. Crazy vibes, innit? I was chattin’ with this local chick one day, and she was gibberish about ancient history. I was like "Is it ’cos I is black? Nah, it's just hot banter, innit?"

Crash with injuries on Florida's Turnpike North in Hobe Sound slows morning traffic