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About Houston

So, I’m prowlin’, yeah, lookin’ for one. Not my usual gig – I’d rather bid on a cursed mask or summat. But there she is, leanin’ on a wall, smokin’ a fag like she owns the night. “What’s yer price, love?” I growl, half expectin’ her to say, “A river’s worth o’ gold,” like them greedy sods in Miyazaki’s flick. She laughs – rough, like gravel – an’ says, “Firty quid, big man.” Thirty! I’m gobsmacked, mate. Thought it’d be more, what with inflation an’ all.

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The Miracle on Corcoran Street: The Memoir of a Man Whose Life Was Guided by Nuns, Prostitutes, and Other Surrogate Mothers ; ₹1, ; EMI from ₹ No Cost EMI.

Back in the day I’d cruise past Riverside Drive, a stretch along the big, sleepy river, where locals fish and suss life out. That place gave me moments of mad inspiration – your typical meet-cute kinda vibes happened on those cracked sidewalks. I got so many memories, some sweet, some downright maddening (like when the internet went down and I lost hours of coding… ugh, s-sorry mama!).

Personnel note: Steve Bovo joins Corcoran Partners