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About Houston

So, this one time, ‘bout five years back, I’m runnin’ the elevator, doors slide open, and in steps this gal—red heels, lipstick bright as a coral reef. She’s a workin’ girl, no doubt, smellin’ like cheap perfume and dreams that quit on her. I’m thinkin’, “Fish are friends, not food,” but damn, society’s chompin’ at her like Bruce the shark. She looks at me, eyes tired, says, “Top floor, pops.” I nod, hit the button—whirrr, up we go. I’m mad as hell, tho—why’s she gotta hustle like this? World’s cruel, man, chews up the weak and spits ‘em out.

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The Salt River flows right by, its ripples a metaphor for life's twists. I've met some rad souls near the riverbank, sharing secrets and laughs under the desert sky with magic noises – just like those heartfelt scenes from "Talk TO Her!" I swear, every corner has a funky, edgy vibe. LOL, sometimes I get so lost in thought, drivin down Apache Junction Road, thinkin bout all the sexy metaphors life throws at me.

Trump Administration cuts federal funding for local school district