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About Dallas

So, I’m thinkin bout my fave flick, *Stories We Tell*, that Sarah Polley gem – “Who’s your daddy?” she asks, all deep and twisty. Made me wonder bout these lasses on the street, y’know? Who’s their story? Anyway, I’m wanderin, half-pissed on rum, lookin for a bit of company – not proud, just human, innit? Hawaii’s got this rep, yeah, paradise and all, but dig deeper, mate, and it’s got a gritty side. Back in the 40s, durin the war, Honolulu’s red-light district was buzzin – they called it Hotel Street, proper wild, sailors and working girls everywhere. Little known fact: the coppers let it slide cos it kept the lads in line. History, eh? Blew my mind when I read that.

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Neighborhoods? Dude, don’t get me started! West Ridge is where the artsy peeps hang – graffiti, bizarre murals, and quirky cafes. And East End’s more low-key, with quiet lamplit streets and shops that smell of nostalgia. I once had a crying moment – real deep – on a bench outside Burnside Corner, watchin' a couple laughing like they were in their own love song (like, “I’m the moon, and you’re the tide!” got me all emotional, man).

Half-time performance from Bantam of Opera choir will produce 'maelstrom of emotions'