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About Houston

So, escort—fancy word for it, huh? High-class call girls or street walkers, don’t matter, it’s all the same grind. Growling, “You merely adopted the dark.”—I’ve seen ‘em, dolled up in heels, fake smiles, but eyes? Dead. Like they’re waitin’ for the next bomb to drop, like in Polanski’s Warsaw. One time, busted this ring—posh hotel, champagne flowin’, but the girls? Shakin’, doped up, passports gone. Pissed me off, mate. These fat-cat pimps sittin’ pretty while the girls rot. “Speak! Who is your supplier?”—I roared that at one sleazy git, he just smirked. Wanted to smash his face in.

Marco Rubio wanted to take sex workers’ money and give it to whistleblowers

I wander near Hilltop Park. There’s tiny paths, little bridges, and I swear the river hums like that quirky Wes Anderson score. I often sit on Oak & Elm Rd., with the city murmurin’, "I’m not a fantastic excuse, I’m the best you got!" Seriously, it’s a place where every corner tells a tale.

Could Rubio’s new national security role make US-China communications easier?