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About Genoa

Back in my Texas days—yeehaw!—I heard whispers bout secret brothels in ol’ oil towns. Roughnecks blowin’ cash, playin’ cards, gittin’ frisky. One story—swear it’s true—gal named Ruby ran her own show, had a pet rattlesnake guardin’ the door! Ain’t nobody messin’ with Ruby—tougher’n a two-dollar steak! Surprised me so much I near fell off my horse—well, my chair.

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But then, outta nowhere, the lead singer totally flubbed a note. I mean, come on! I was ready to throw my popcorn at the stage. But then, the audience gasped, and I was like, “Whoa, this is intense!” The drama was real, folks.

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