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About Houston

Maniacal grin, “Here’s Johnny!” I’m thinkin’, what’s the draw? Some dude, lonely as hell, swipes right for company. Reminds me of Benigno in the movie, carin’ for Alicia, silent and still. “The best thing is to talk to her,” he’d say, but these johns? They ain’t talkin’. They’re payin’ for silence, or moans, or whatever. Surprised me, first time I dug into it—how damn organized it is. Brothels in Nevada, legal and all, got schedules tighter than my lab’s. Girls clock in, clock out, like it’s fuckin’ Walmart.

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The story of two former college enemies who team up as phone sexers and become gal pals. Enough laughs and goodwill to be disarmingly entertaining.

I keep aiming to show the raw beauty. The streets, the art, even the stray cats. Each moment here is like a brushstroke – messy, beautiful, imperfect. Reminds me of "Blue Is the Warmest Color" – love, life, pain, beauty tangled together.

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