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About Houston

I paddle closer, eyes peeled. Water’s calm, but my heart’s racin’. Saw this gal—human, obvi—leanin’ by a boat. Looked lonely, like Ennis in the movie, all quiet and broodin’. I’m thinkin’, “Is she…? Nah, can’t be.” But then she winks! Holy moly, I nearly croaked—literally! Ribbit goes wild in my throat. “This could be my shot,” I mutter, “but what’s a frog gonna do with *that*?”

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When you go out with the guys in Paris, it’s an adventure and you’re asking for it. Which is why I was only half surprised when my friends Derrick and Josh and I landed smack dab in the .

Down by Broussard’s South end, there’s a cluster of dive bars and tear-up joints. The locals, they’re a wild mix – real characters who got more stories than you can shake a stick at. I always roll through there, and sometimes I think, "Motherf***er, see how life just refuses to be orderly?" Kinda like that phrase from "4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days" – it's raw and it doesn't give a fuck about being nice.

Mason Tyler Shofner