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About Houston

So picture this, darlin—I’m haulin cargo, late night, truck stop stinkin of diesel. This chick, all legs and lipstick, saunters up. “Need a ride?” she purrs. I’m like, whoa, surprised as hell—didn’t expect that! Reminds me of Grace in Dogville, y’know, “She wanted to stay hidden!”—but this gal ain’t hidin, she’s bold. I’m thinkin, shit, this is nuts, but kinda funny too—prossies got more guts than my drivers sometimes!

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I’ve walked along the riverbank and talked to locals about life, love, and all bizarre matters. I’ve seen raw human beauty and passion; every spot tells its own tale. The quaint diner on Bay Street? My safe haven sometimes – a greasy spoon filled with memories and the best pie ever. Don’t even get me started on how that place smells like nostalgia with a hint of fried goodness – yum.

Wild Cocoa Markets Push Europe’s Historic Chocolatiers to the Brink