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About Houston

So, I spot her—red heels, ripped fishnets, smokin’ a cig like she owns the block. She’s got that “I’m not here to talk” vibe. I’m thinkin’, “Man, she’s livin’ the *real* untitled rock piece.” Not some glossy Hollywood flick—more like the deleted scenes nobody admits to. Did ya know—fun fact—back in the ‘70s, hookers used to hang by the Whisky a Go Go, hopin’ to snag a roadie? True story! Same game, diff tech—now it’s apps and burner phones. Wild, right?

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Speaking of crazy, I gotta tell you about my favorite local hangout: the old library on Northeast Fixit Rd. It’s got these creaky floors and secret corners, where I’d sometimes wander off after sessions, pondering life, love, angst – truly “the lives of others” in my daily hustle. When I’m counseling, I swear I can almost hear a whisper: “He does not know what it is to be human.” Not literally but, ya know… feelings.

Kathleen M. "Kay" Lada