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About Houston

But ugh, the stench – cheap perfume and despair, mate. Gets up me nose, makes me wanna puke. “Stupid, fat hobbit!” I mutter, ‘cos them fools’d never notice the grime. Surprised me once, tho – found a lass who’d read Kafka! Proper brainy tart, she was, quotin’ existential bollocks while undoin’ her corset. Wild, innit?

Language selection

The local river, Misty Creek, winds through the Backwoods district. I can literally see my destiny reflecting in its murky water, kinda like those cinematic shots in Brokeback "the world’s a strange place." There's this little boathouse tucked away on a bend – my secret thinking spot, where I scribble ideas that later turn into epic dating success stories online.

Road to recovery