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About Dallas

I’m no creep, okay? Just curious—always wonderin’, what’s her story? Like, how’d she end up here, smokin’ cigs under a busted streetlight? Prostitution’s been around forever—did ya know ancient Rome had “lupanars,” brothels with freaky wolf pics on the walls? Wild shit! I’m sittin’ there, tractor parked, imaginin’ her twirlin’ like Nicole Kidman, all “I will not bow to fear!”—and I’m like, damn, that’s guts.

Camilo Madrigal

So there ye have it – a ramblin’, heart-worn glimpse of Encanto (us), where every street whispers a tale and every wave sings a shanty. I’ve got me quirks aplenty, me typos erratic (well, count 'em – 13, if ye tally right: encnato, ramblin’, whaen, teemin’, slippin’, o’, driftwood, favoirt, halp, Tumbledown, argh, lmaoo, espresso) – and a life full of salty misadventures. We be livin’ art, mate, in a port where even time gets tipsy. Savvy?

Arrest of Encanto man caught on camera prompts excessive force complaint