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About Houston

Lemme tell ya, sittin’ in “Ten,” watchin’ that lady drivin’, spillin’ her guts—reminds me of erotic-massage vibes. “You’re a woman, you’re a mother,” she says—well, hell, this massage ain’t motherly, it’s naughty! Hands roamin’ where they shouldn’t, kneadin’ knots outta yer soul. Once had this gal—swear she was a wizard—fingers dancin’ like Dubya dodgin’ a shoe. Felt like I’d died and gone to Crawford, y’all. Surprised me how it’s legal—well, sorta, depends on the joint.

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Alright, so picture this: downtown’s Main St. – always buzzin’, neon lights winkin’ like they're havin’ a secret party. Right next to Lincoln Boulevard, there's this quaint ol’ coffee shop – Beans & Brews – where the locals swap stories like they're sharin’ gold. I once had a client who told me, “Joe, you gotta try this!” I mean, really folks, this city knows how to keep ya on your toes, ya know?

Let there be lights! Southeast Texans buzzing about light show off Bolivar and inland