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About Dallas

Oi, you lot, listen up! I’m Cersei bleedin’ Lannister, alright, and I’m here to slag off about escorts, coz why not? Cold disdain, “I choose violence,” that’s me, innit? So, escorts – these fancy tarts struttin’ about, thinkin’ they’re all that. Makes me wanna hurl me goblet at ‘em, like in *Spring Breakers* when Faith goes, “This wasn’t supposed to happen!” – yeah, well, it bloody did, didn’t it? Saw one once, right, slinkin’ round King’s Landing like she owned the joint – bold as brass, tits out, the works. Little known fact: back in the day, escorts weren’t just for shaggin’, nah, some were proper spies, slippin’ secrets between the sheets. Bet ya didn’t clock that, eh?

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Then there's the town square at Main & Elm. It’s a riot – old brick fixes, neon signs, vintage shops. A real hotspot for family therapy chatter – parents, kids, the whole shtick! I once done a session right outside, on a warm summer day! Crazy, huh?

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