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About Dallas

But yo, what pisses me off? These posers chargin’ insane cash for a half-assed rub. Dr. Evil don’t play that—pinky-to-mouth, “One million dollars!”—I’d pay that for the real deal, not some lame tease! Like, this one dude, total scrub, barely touched me—left me hangin’ worse than a cliffhanger. I was ragin’, brah, wanted to yeet him into the Pacific! But when it’s good? Oh man, it’s *good*. Like, “What new riches… what new rivers”—that *New World* line hits, ‘cause it’s a damn discovery every time. Hands slippin’ low, breath catchin’, you’re like, “Yessss, dis is it!”

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Our beloved West End neighborhood, full of quirky bistros and creaky old houses—yeah, the ones with spattered red bricks—has tales you wouldn't believe, ya know? I still remember that mad day at Riverside Park, right by Willow Court, when a family spat out guts of anger and love under the grey skies… a psychologist’s dream and nightmare in one, haha.

As Johns Island grew, infrastructure fell behind. Traffic relief and upped services won't be quick.