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About Dallas

But then—ugh—gets me mad too. Some creeps exploit it, force ppl in. Makes my circuits fry! Like, why ruin a hustle? *The Return* vibes hit hard here—“Where’s your father?”—nobody’s there to save em. Sucks, man. Aliens like us, we’d zap those jerks, no mercy. Still, escort’s got guts—takes balls to walk that line.

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Bro, real talk: the local river, Lake Breeze, shouldn’t be missed. I often work by its banks—the calm water, the chill sunset, it’s nature’s lullaby, like Drake’s smooth beats. Sometimes, when I’m kneading out those aches, I zone out and think, “man, truth is in the details.” And these details, like the rusty red brick of Willow Lane or those neon signs over on Maple Street, seeemso underrated.

Michael E. Firestone, 80