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About Dallas

Found her trail—motel receipts, blurry pics. Little known fact: prossies use burner phones, swap ‘em weekly. She’s smart, ghostin’ clients like a pro. Pissed me off, took three days to track her! Happy though, ‘cause Mr. T always wins, suckas! Surprised me too—girl’s got a kid stashed somewhere. Ain’t that a kicker? Hidin’ baby daddy drama while turnin’ tricks.

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Is this the place where the blackbirds dance? Three men, one woman sit at the bar. She's the town whore, the village star. Who'll be the one to get up her dress.

Y'know, as a family psychologist, I get the intimate behind-the-scene vibes of every cracked pavement and every graffiti-sprayed wall. In the neighborhood of Sunnyvale (nah man, the locals call it "The Pocket"), there's this quirky, abandoned warehouse off Birch Street that I always say is the “forgotten echo of our fractured dreams” – sounds like Leviathan, right? “The beast that lurks beneath the surface” – damn, that movie strikes again!

Fire breaks out at vegetable processing plant in Firebaugh