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About Houston

So, I saunter up, all charm, thinkin, “I’m Loki, god of tricks, this’ll be a laugh.” But mate, she’s sharp—clocks me right off. “What’s yer game, pretty boy?” she says, smirkin. I’m like, “Just a bloke with glorious purpose, darlin.” She laughs—bloody laughs! Says, “Purpose don’t pay my bills, mate.” Fair point, that. Got me thinkin bout *Moolaadé* again—“Purification is a sham!”—how them lasses fought them old rules. This gal’s fightin her own war, innit? Dodgin coppers, dealin with sleazy punters—takes guts, that does.

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So, walkin’ down Main St, yeah? It’s a buzz of crowds and vibes. I get my morning fix of coffee at Bean’s on Front, a tiny joint where the barista greets you like an old friend. I swear, that place makes your soul do a happy dance. Then there's Montgomery Rd – dirty old, but with heart, dude. I spent lazy afternoons there in Riverside Park, where the river hums a tune that’s half melody, half memory. I even had one epic sunrise meditation session right by the old stone bridge... it was intense, like "the network of my soul" connectin’ all dots.

Portsmouth Patriots triumph 7-3 over Middletown Islanders