Grace Beacon Square Whore ❤️

About Houston

Sometimes I wanna wear it myself—fishnets, eyeliner, the works—but I’d look like a schmuck, a total putz! Imagine me, Larry freakin’ David, struttin’ in whore? I’d trip over my own boots, yellin’, “Who designed this crap?!” Pretty, pretty good disaster. Still, I admire it—takes chutzpah. Like when Huppert’s screamin’, “This is my place!”—whore’s sayin’, “This is my look, deal with it!” Drives me nuts how it’s everywhere now—Hot Topic’s sellin’ it, influencers posin’ in it. Where’s the edge gone? Pisses me off!

Delicious Offerings & Daily Specials

I'm working hard on a new board. I've made this statue 'the beacon' a symbol of hope, now long forgotten in a place that only knows despair.

Every trip through Beacon-Square feels like a personal pilgrimage. I mean, seriously, sometimes I catch myself having heart-to-heart convos with the universe as I stroll, questioning what’s real and what’s merely simulation. Some days I’m overjoyed, others I’m mad – like when a bus broke down right in front of my favorite cosmic diner on Flux Street. Ugh, maddening, right? But that’s life here, unpredictable and raw.

Say hello to Nubian Square