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About Houston

So, last week, I’m prowlin’—growling, “You merely adopted the dark.”—and I spot this bird, all fishnets and attitude. Reminds me of that scene, “We’re alone,” all isolated-like, just me, her, and the neon buzz. I’m thinkin’, “Mate, she’s either a jackpot or a fuckin’ setup.” Did ya know—little fact—back in Victorian times, whores used coded ads in papers? “French lessons,” my arse—sneaky bastards. Anyway, I’m chattin’ her up, heart poundin’—fuckin’ thrilled, yeah? But then—bam—some geezer rolls up, all aggro, demandin’ cash. Pissed me right off! I’m like, “Oi, cunt, I ain’t your ATM!”

Find an underwriter

I wander ‘round Guava Court, know what I mean? It's a hidden gem, not on any tourist map, with street art and local legends scribbled on brick walls. And don't get me started on Riverwalk Park! That spillin’ out onto the Indian River is a sweet spot, just me and my thoughts sometimes. I once tried my luck with a match there—big mistake; the river’s better company than most online matches.

Sebastian Wheldon wins debut Italian F4 race at Misano