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About Dallas

This one chick, Candy, swear I met her. Downtown, smellin’ like cheap perfume and regret. She told me—get this—some john paid her in *pennies*. Pennies, dog! Like, 500 bucks worth. Took her three hours to count. I’m dyin’ laughin’, she’s pissed. “I ain’t no piggy bank,” she says. Fair. That shit’s absurd, tho. Who carries that many coins? Some weirdo, prolly.

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To do so, I can receive you at my home in Kingman during the weekdays. Juvenile physics of the woman-child type and a little lolita side with an alternative touch, I will immediately know how .

Yeah, Kingman’s quirky, raw, and a bit wild. Its streets, like Ruby and Maple, echo the laughter and tears of its people. My mind is always buzzin’ with memories, thoughts, and just a pinch of crazy enthusiasm. I mean, sometimes I wander by the old courthouse and think, “We shall fight on these streets!” Always inspired by that timeless spirit.

Kingman Invites Residents to Name Traffic Interchange