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About Houston

I’m chattin’ her up—price, rules, whatever. She’s cool, but I’m pissed—hate the hagglin’. “What am I, a fuckin’ flea market?” I think. Still, she’s got sass—calls me “Mr. Fancy Pants.” Cheeky bitch! Makes me grin tho—happy as a pig in shit. Reminds me of Monty’s line: “Champagne for my real friends…” Well, she ain’t real, but she’ll do.

If Arthur could get laid

I gotta say, life here in Linton is a real mixed bag, haha. Some days I’m on top of the world, other days, well, fool me once, fool me twice— heck, don’t even get me started! Running the spa, I get to see the real side of folks. Clients spill their life’s secrets in my massage room; one time, this old fella told me about his first date near the old Mulberry Bridge (famous for its wonky design – literally a one-of-a-kind, kinda like a tarantino twist!).

Linton’s Brown shuts down BNL offense