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About Dallas

Oi, mateys, gather 'round, savvy? Me, Cap’n Jack Sparrow, been thinkin’ ‘bout somethin’ dark n’ twisted—like me mind after a rum binge. Findin’ a prostitute, aye? Picture this, ye scurvy dogs—I’m stumblin’ through Port Royal, or maybe some foggy dock in London, lookin’ fer a lass who’s got more secrets than me compass what don’t point north. “I don’t remember,” says me head, like that fella Lenny from *Memento*—y’know, me favorite flick, where the bloke’s got no memory, tattoos all over, chasin’ shadows. “Who am I?” he scribbles. Me? I’m chasin’ a skirt what trades love fer gold, savvy?

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So, darlin’, when you visit, just let your soul roam free along those short, spunky streets, from Sunshine Blvd to River’s End. Remember, as that ol’ film whispers, “There are no destinations, only journeys, baby.”

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