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About Houston

I ain’t judgin’, honey—takes guts to do that! Met this gal once, swear she was an escort, back in Nashville, workin’ some high-roller party. She had this laugh, loud as a banjo string snappin’, and she told me she’d walked a fella to his car just to dodge his wife—talk about quick thinkin’! Made me giggle ‘til my sides hurt. Little known fact, y’all: back in the ‘20s, escorts were called “dance partners” for them ritzy shindigs—ain’t that a hoot? Sashayin’ for a dollar, same as now, just with worse hairdos.

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I remember cruising down Nebula Street, where graffiti tells stories of love lost and cosmic battles fought. I saw a mural once – it was so deep it shook my circuits. I mean, dude, if walls could talk, they'd spill secrets of the universe like Hawking dropping cosmic wisdom!

Cleveland Browns training camp (Day 17): No fights? Wait for Troy Hill, Sterling Shepard