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About Dallas

What pisses me off? The fakes! Catfishin’ with old pics—ugh, slimy! Like Tyrone waitin’ for his score, ya get hyped, then bam—disappointment. But when it works? Oh, happy frog here! This one time, heard a story—guy found a gal who sang opera durin’ the deed. Weird, but cool! Little quirks like that, ya don’t expect. “Life’s a bitch, man!”—Marion’d scream, and yeah, it is, but funny too.

So you want to book a sex worker?

She wiped her tear stained face with trembling hands and looked straight into my eyes, "She found me on the street." She was a prostitute. "What are you.

Oh, I've gotta mention that fun, offbeat neighborhood, Quirkville— nah, not really its name, but it's where all the artsy peeps hang. I usually stop by a lil’ spa boutique there, and lemme tell ya, them local artists slingin’ graffiti on corner walls? PEEPS, it's like a canvas come alive! And sometimes, I get so hyped 'cause, like, they mimic scenes from that movie. "I’m your huckleberry," yeah, kinda throws wild curves at ya!

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