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About Houston

Here I am, mates, narratin’ like Sir David—calm, rhythmic, yeah? Picture this: the urban jungle hums, restless, wild. Findin’ a prostitute, right? It’s like stalkin’ prey in “Memento”—all backwards, confusin’ as hell. I’m wanderin’ streets, mind spinnin’, thinkin’, “What’s the next piece?” Like Lenny, I got no memory of where I started, just clues—neon lights flickerin’, heels clickin’ soft on pavement.

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Man, I’m runnin’ on pure passion here – sometimes i spilt my coffee on my notes, gettin’ all typos, like “soin” instead of “so in”, "luvved" instead of "loved", "strets" for street, "bvien" for been, "thsi" instead of "this", "crazzy", "speicall", "favarite", "chillng", "dodgy", "vibez", "whaaat", "epicc", "srsly", "mamz", and "nothin" – all good, ya feel? That’s city flavor.

James Perry Jr. Obituary