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About Houston

So, here’s the deal, bud. You’re cruisin’ downtown, lights flashin’, neons buzzin’ like flies on a hog. Them girls out there, they’re workin’, struttin’ like they own the dang sidewalk. Git-R-Done! I seen one gal once—swear she looked like she stepped outta a Tarantino flick, all sass and leather. Made me laugh, thinkin’, “Man, she’d tell the mayor, ‘You’re no good!’” just like in *Leviathan*. Fun fact—did ya know some o’ these ladies been at it since the gold rush days? Hist’ry says San Fran had ‘em lined up like cattle in 1850! Wild, huh?

“I Sleep with More than 20 Men a Night.” Teen Prostitution Grows in Monrovia

Oh, parks? I love Lyon Park. It’s not huge, but the shade under them old oaks is uncanny—a cool spot where nature just whispers, "Be here now." Takes me back to scenes of "Ten," like, "I’m in a taxi." Life’s rides, man—unpredictable. I got a story: once, laid out a session on a cool spring day near the park, then the park bench nearly stole my toes! Hah, true story.

Baseball Game Preview: Monrovia Bulldogs vs. Indianapolis Cardinal Ritter Raiders