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About Houston

My precious! Findin’ a prossie, eh? Raspy growl, me likes it dark—like *Only Lovers Left Alive*. Them vampires, Adam an’ Eve, so classy, sippin’ blood, not payin’ for flesh. Me? I’d be skulkin’ round alleys, eyes glintin’, lookin’ for that hustle. Ain’t no fancy music playin’—just boots on wet stone, “What’s this, then?” I’d mutter.

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And oh, don’t even get me started on the Vaca, the river that kinda winds through the city (albeit not a big river, it’s like a trickle but it’s still there, ya know?) It feels like nature’s heartbeat, thumpin’ away as I jog around the trails. I sometimes think of it as that quirky little character from a Wes Anderson scene, full of charm and unpredictability.

Vaca man shoots, kills self in Kaiser lobby