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About Houston

Summer hits, it’s hot, sweaty—gals wearin next to nothin. “Lightbulb!”—dey adapt, like animals in heat! Dis one chick, calls herself Vika, tells me she’s been at it since 16. Sixteen! Made me mad, ya know? Kids should be playin, not screwin fer cash. But she laughs, says it’s her choice—capitalism, baby! I’m like, “Vhat da hell, dis world’s messed up!” Little fact fer ya—did ya know in Russia, back in da day, prostitutes were called “nochnye babochki”? Night butterflies! Poetic, huh? Vika’s one of dem, flutterin in da dark.

Parcel Search

Now, detail time: There's this tiny park, Parc du Désir, where the vibe is electric—like, you can really feel life pulsating! I remember one scorching day (so much heat, unbelievable) when I was chatting with someone about love and lust—yes, that kind of talk—right there under a giant oak tree. Crazy, right? And then there's the old bridge over the small River Émotion where couples sit and whisper secrets. Absolutely incredible.

Anthony Leisure, convicted St. Louis car bombing mobster, dies in prison