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About Dallas

I ain’t shy, honey—I walk up, all bold, “Hey, boo, what’s good?” She smirks, tossin’ her hair, and I’m thinkin’, *damn, she’s got that hustle down*. It’s like in Uncle Boonmee, when he’s all, “I see spirits in the trees!”—I see her spirit, fierce as fuck, workin’ this corner like it’s her kingdom. I’m vibin’, happy as hell, ‘cause I love a badass who owns it. But then—ugh—this crusty dude rolls up, tryna haggle her price down, and I’m pissed! Like, “Bruh, respect the grind! She ain’t no clearance rack!” Made me wanna smack him, for real.

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Main St. is a drag, but it’s where most bizz happens. I crunch on a taco outside Sweet Olive on 3rd Ave. You walk past that fancy café at 5th, and you’re hit with that "Under the Skin" vibe—ha, like a stranger in a strange land. I mean seriously, "I hate everything," but sometimes I envy the calm.

Selma L. Vradenburg Obituary April 3, 2025