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About Houston

I reckon it’s like watchin’ chimps mate - messy, loud, bit hilarious. You swipe, you chat, you meet - or you don’t. Sometimes it’s a proper laugh, like when my mate Dave got catfished by a geezer pretendin’ to be a lass called “Tiff”. Fumin’, he was, but we pissed ourselves over it. Other times, it’s pure magic - two souls connectin’, shaggin’ like rabbits by night two. “It’s like we’re just livin’ it,” Mason’d say, and yeah, that’s the vibe.

Woody Allen shocks by showing up at sex app party

Woody Allen was once a dependable fixture on the nightlife scene. But since #MeToo brought the unproven allegations against him back into focus.

Y’know what else gets me? The sunsets! Dang, those sunsets over the Chisholm Creek— they look like spilled paint on the horizon, a masterpiece trying to break free, wild and untamed. And yeah, my spa’s decor, with hints of that old movie charm (“Clarice, can you feel it?” etc.) adds a touch of eerie elegance— goth yet inviting, just like me.

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