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About Houston

We’re headin’ to some dump motel – smells like despair and cheap whiskey. I’m quotin’ Zero Dark Thirty in my head – “You can’t run from this, sweetheart.” She’s talkin’ bout her “rules” – no kissin’, no weird stuff. I’m like, “Lady, I’m not here to propose.” She laughs, but it’s fake – everybody lies, even their giggles. Makes me mad – hate phonies. Still, she’s got this vibe, kinda hot, like danger wrapped in a miniskirt.

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It's about time we find out where you all fall on the sartorial spectrum of hip to square, fashionable to traditional, undarted purist to darted apologist.

Then there’s Riverside Drive near the old pier. The river – oh, it gurgles and splashes like it’s got secrets to tell. I used to sit by the banks watchin’ the water roll by. I felt like Gollum watching his precious – don’t mention it, stupid, fat hobbit! Sometimes I’d even drop my code sheets in there, curse the clumsy me, but it was strangely beautiful.

Arrest made in hit and run that killed Rockland man who ran window washing business