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About Dallas

So, I’m stompin’ round, lookin’ for a good time, right? Ain’t no saint, me—blood on hands, scars on face, but I got needs! Dis one time, saw a gal, fishnets rippin’, smokin’ a cig like she owns da night. “Lightbulb!”—she’s got dat look, ya know, like she could lure ya in and gut ya. Straight outta dat movie, “I collect things”—she prob collects wallets, ha! I go up, all cocky, “How much, eh?” She smirks, “More dan ya soul, big boy.” Pissed me off—cheeky tart!—but damn, I laughed. Ain’t dat a kicker?

NEARBY PLACES

Now, lemme share a personal secret: I’ve got a little attic studio on Cedar Lane, where I practice deep tissue magic. Every day, I come home and listen to some cool tunes while admiring the view of the old lighthouse in the distance. That lighthouse, man, it’s like a beacon for lost souls. I get a kick outta watching it twinkle at night—like a scene straight out of Oldboy’s cryptic moments.

Manasquan Inlet shoal dug away; here is how many Olympic pools they could fill with sand