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About Houston

Here’s the rub—some punters reckon it’s all glamour, but nah, it’s messy. Girls with stories, scars, sass—real people, not just a quick shag. Surprised me once, this bird told me she’d read Churchill’s speeches. “We shall never surrender,” she winked—nearly spat me tea! Oh, and the coppers? Sneaky bastards—sting ops galore. Mate o’ mine got nabbed, said it was like Leo’s yacht crash—chaos, cuffs, “I’m fucked!” vibes.

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Oh man, and the parks! Daley Park is a happy little paradise. Sunlight dances on the grass. Kids laugh like, “We're free, man!” Every so often, I'll take my break and sit on a worn bench, thinkin’ how life is like those trippy, colorful scenes in The Royal Tenenbaums – dramatic, weird, and oh so real. I sometimes get a bit artistic, paint crazy pieces on rainy afternoons. It’s like therapy, dude.

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