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About Houston

So, I’m down the docks, yeah, salty air hittin me lungs, thinkin – where’s she at? Prossies round here, they’re ghosts, mate. Slip through yer fingers like wet fish. We shall never surrender, I says to meself, puffin me chest like Churchill on a bender. Found one once, right, near the old pier – Ruby, they called her. Cheeky lass, red lips, eyes sharp as a gutting knife. Little known fact – she’d hum sea shanties while workin, swear down! Made me laugh, that did – a prossie with a tune? Fancied meself Theo Faron for a sec, savin the world one shag at a time.

U.S. Secret Service

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I get super fired when the garbage trucks block my favorite jogging route in the Coney Bikes park near McDonald’s (yeah, that one near Neptune Ave). But hey, every corner has its stories! The ocean breeze along West 15th Street always chills me out, remindin me of a calm convo from the movie: "Nu era doar o simpla zi". Fuuu, so many feels.

Lafayette Coney Island temporarily closes after second rat infestation