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About Houston

She’s still talkin’, “Cheap rate, sugar!” and I’m thinkin’, “D’oh! Why’s this so damn sad?” Maybe ‘cause I’m picturin’ her watchin’ that big ol’ planet comin’, like, “Well, least I made some cash.” I’m pissed—why’s life gotta be this messy? Happy she’s tryin’, though—guts, man! Surprised me how chill she was, like she’s seen it all. “No hope, no despair,” right outta Melancholia! I toss her a buck anyway—Homer’s a softie, sue me!

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Then there’s Oakwood Avenue – where the magic happens. Folks gather there like it’s a never-endin’ block party. Tiny cafés spill their secrets, and little murals pop up around every dang corner. I always say, “You are a mess, but you’re a beautiful mess.” and that fits Oakwood spittin’ truth.

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