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About Houston

So, here’s the deal—ya wanna find one? Cities got red-light spots, always have. Back in ‘79, my cousin Earl—dumbass—got nabbed in Reno. Lookin’ for “company,” ended up broke, cryin’. Cops laughed, said, “Rookie mistake, kid.” Ya don’t just stroll up, yellin’ for tail. Nah, it’s hush-hush, coded bullshit. Look for the shady bars, dim lights. Girls linger, eyes sharp, smokin’ cheap cigs. Or—hell—online now, apps and crap. Ain’t my style, sounds like a scam. “The world is my hunting ground,” Carlos growled. Yeah, huntin’ trouble, more like.

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Now, lemme share sumthin personal. My work in relaxation puts me in tune with the tiny details. I noticed how the wind hums ‘cross Pine Alley, it’s like nature's own whisper. Makes me mad sometimes, thinkin’ how fast folks rush past without so much as a “hey, breathe!” But then I get happy, ‘cause if they just slowed a bit, life would be sooooo clear. Sometimes I just drift off, thinking "isn't this just like life ahold, ahold, ahold…?"

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