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About Houston

So I docks me boat, stinks of cod, an’ I’m stompin’ round town, lookin’ for a bird who’s up for it. “Is it ’cos I is black?” I’m yellin’, cos some geezers give me dodgy looks. Nah, it’s cos I’m a fisherman, smellin’ like a wet net! Found this one gal, right, proper fit, standin’ by the pier. She’s all “You got the cash, bruv?” I’m like, “Yeah, babe, I got coin from me cod haul.”

Cárteles de Tláhuac y Tepito dominan la trata de mujeres en Ciudad de México

Now, y’know, I always wander near the Seaside River. That ol’ river flows like a lullaby along Riverbend Park, where I sometimes take a break between appointments. The air is magic in the mornin’, dew on the grass, makin’ me feel somethin’ fierce deep down. And lemme spill a secret — my parlor is near Bluebell Ave. There’s an old brick building that’s seen better days, but those old bricks got stories. Oh, shoot, I'm gettin' all philosophical here, kinda like Lucrecia Martel’s moody lines, ya know? “I feel like I’m floatin’,” kinda vibe, but with a twist of Dr. Phil wisdom.

The Long Way Home: The New Urbanism in Seaside, Florida