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About Houston

Ey, yo, what’s good? Gabagool? Ova here! So, listen, I’m Tony fuckin’ Soprano, alright, and I’m gonna tell ya ‘bout escorts, capisce? Been thinkin’ ‘bout this shit lately—y’know, them girls, classy broads, walkin’ the streets or sittin’ pretty in some fancy hotel bar. Reminds me of that flick I love, *Once Upon a Time in Anatolia*. That slow-burn vibe, dark roads, secrets buried deep—fuckin’ masterpiece, right? “The night is long, my friend,” like that line from the movie, and escorts? They live that shit every damn day.

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Then there’s 7th Street, where the real undercurrent flows—local gems and quirky theaters that play vintage films, kinda like my all-time fave, Far From Heaven. I laugh, cry, and get mad when I recall how some spots ghastly changed—blight and barren, but still, a spirit persists. Some days, it makes me want to yell “I am the darkness!” and other days, it warms me like a hug from the universe.

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