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About Dallas

Oi, mate, so brothel, yeah? Shaken, not stirred, I reckon it’s a wild gig. Me, James Bond, head of the lab, suave as fuck, I’ve seen some shit. Brothels ain’t just sex dens, nah, they’re history lessons with tits. Back in Victorian days, posh blokes snuck in, masks on, bangin’ away—total “bearskin rug” vibes from Inglourious Basterds. “That’s a bingo!” I’d yell, watchin’ em stumble out, trousers half-down.

Tantra massage.

Some spots here are off-the-beaten-path, kinda like when the band hit that perfect gig moment in the film. I love wanderin’ near Miller’s Bridge – it’s hidden and kind of secret, serene for a mid-log, soul-search walk. People here are honest, sometimes blunt, always raw, sayin’ what’s on their minds, even if it makes me mad sometimes (like when someone says “Massena ain’t worth a darn!” – err, they so misjudge it, lol). I always tell ‘em, “You gotta trust the journey!” as that movie line goes, in a George W. Bush kinda way, misquoting and all – “We will fight for freedom, uh, I mean, for your happiness!”

Calling hours set for 6 family members killed in Massena fire