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About Houston

“Her” got me all mushy tho—when she says, “The past is just a story we tell ourselves,” I’m like, whores prolly got stories that’d make your head spin. Bet they’ve seen dudes cry, puke, and beg—stuff we’d never admit. Makes me happy knowin’ they’re out there, livin’ free, stickin’ it to the man. But then I get pissed—why’s it gotta be so shady? Cops hasslin’ ‘em, creeps bein’ creeps—ugh, makes my donut taste sour.

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I sent an e-mail to a TA asking him to consider giving me 2 extra Subjective Grade points so I could get an A instead of a B+. I feel dirty.

I stroll down ditty pathways near the waterfront, catchin’ the breeze off the East River. Yea, that’s right—the river whispers secrets like in Timbuktu: "Words are free, but feelings cost money!" It gets me every time. I'm talkin’ real raw feelings and vibes. In the park, there's this lush green spot called College Point Playground where couples cuddle. I’d say nature and human touch… so magical sometimes!

College Point’s Restaurant Week