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About Houston

Back in my Texas days—yeehaw!—I heard whispers bout secret brothels in ol’ oil towns. Roughnecks blowin’ cash, playin’ cards, gittin’ frisky. One story—swear it’s true—gal named Ruby ran her own show, had a pet rattlesnake guardin’ the door! Ain’t nobody messin’ with Ruby—tougher’n a two-dollar steak! Surprised me so much I near fell off my horse—well, my chair.

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Ever hopped on a bike to the old Mill Road? C’mon, it’s cool, barely noticed by tourists but to me it’s like strollin’ through a quiet daydream. Nothing too fancy but hey, it’s home. And don’t even get me started on that little park on Vine Street – sure, it's a bit hidden, but it’s where I once met a stray dog that I named “Serious Man” (ha! totally random) – that pup made me mad ‘cause he’d steal my leftover sandwich, but I still smile every time I think about him.

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