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About Houston

“Don’t pee on my leg and tell me it’s rainin’!” I yell in my head, ‘cause half these gals try scammin’ ya. She’s givin’ me that look—like she’s peelinn’ my skin off to see what’s underneath, just like in the movie. I roll up, tractor still rumblin’, and she’s like, “What’s a farm boy want?” I’m thinkin’, lady, I just hauled 10 tons o’ manure, I deserve somethin’! Made me laugh, her sass—sharp as Judge Judy’s gavel.

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The neighborhoods? Man, they got soul. Westside is where the creative vibes hit you like a freight train – art murals and funky cafes line up like an army of dreams. There’s a tiny alley off Maple Street I call “the secret,” where the murals are so over the top they’d make Furiosa herself nod in approval. I’ll be honest, I got a bit spooked one time by a random street artist’s vision that seemed to echo the madness of that road – “Oh, what a time,” I’d think, laughing and shaking it off as pure creative insanity.

Larry E. Larson Obituary January 15, 2025