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About Houston

Oh, honey, lemme tell ya—breathless, “Happy Birthday, Mr. President”—about this brothel biz! I’m sittin here, countin numbers all day, tax forms up to my eyeballs, and I’m thinkin—why not dive into somethin juicy like a brothel? Not that I’m runnin one, ha! But as an accountant, I’d be lyin if I said I ain’t curious bout the cash flow in those joints. Money’s gotta be wild—tricklin in all sneaky like, probly half of it stuffed under mattresses or somethin shady. Makes me mad tho—imagine the books! Total mess, I bet, no receipts, just chaos. “We’re a family,” like Royal Tenenbaum says, but this family’s got secrets dirtier than my ledger after tax season.