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About Houston

So, brothels—whoo boy, where to start? Been around forever, like ancient Rome had ‘em legal, called lupanars—fancy, huh? Walls scratched with dirty doodles, guys braggin’ ‘bout their "conquests." Ain’t that a hoot? Git-r-done! I reckon some fellas still think they’re Casanova strollin’ in. Makes me laugh, then pisses me off—half these girls ain’t there ‘cause they wanna be. Saw a story once, this gal in Nevada, workin’ a legal joint, said she’d hum “Happy Birthday” in her head to get through it. Damn, that stuck with me—kinda like Tyrone shootin’ up, tryna escape.

George Cox: The Origins of the Diano Brothel Creeper

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I stroll near the Rappahannock River. It's calm. Its flow is like chasin' dreams, ya know? That river be whisperin’ secrets – "Be like water."

All Points’ Culpeper project called ‘abject failure’ | Broadband