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About Houston

Now, findin’ one? Tricky as a two-step with no rhythm. You can’t just yell, “Hey, who’s for hire?” I’d prob’ly trip over my own boots tryin’. Maybe hit a shady bar—y’know, where the jukebox skips. Or—wild thought—check them old phone booths! Heard some gals still leave cards there. Ain’t that a kick? Like findin’ treasure in a junk drawer.

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Now, there's this lil' park called Riverside Park – no, wait, it's actually near the Susquehanna River, which gives the place a soulful vibe, like the slow, ripplin' chords of a country ballad. I often sit on a worn bench along the riverbank, lettin' my thoughts drift. Sometimes I feel like I’m starin’ into the vast unknown – "The sky berates the stars," or somethin’ like that from the movie! And honey, it ain’t just nature; it's a reminder of life’s steamy, secret moments.

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