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About Dallas

So, I’m down the docks, yeah, salty air hittin me lungs, thinkin – where’s she at? Prossies round here, they’re ghosts, mate. Slip through yer fingers like wet fish. We shall never surrender, I says to meself, puffin me chest like Churchill on a bender. Found one once, right, near the old pier – Ruby, they called her. Cheeky lass, red lips, eyes sharp as a gutting knife. Little known fact – she’d hum sea shanties while workin, swear down! Made me laugh, that did – a prossie with a tune? Fancied meself Theo Faron for a sec, savin the world one shag at a time.

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Some streets are so lively, like 3rd Street—it’s buzzing with local cafes and art stuff. Even if you miss it, you know the heartbeat of the town. Sure, sometimes I get kinda mad at the traffic or noisy construction near Bayview, but hey, that’s just part of our charm, right? And I can’t forget the old warehouse district—so artsy and raw. I once had a meditation session there on a rooftop under a shooting star… or was it a neon sign? Who knows—life’s messy like that!

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