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About Dallas

Exaggeratin? Maybe, but who cares—makes it juicier! I’m thinkin, dodgin cops, heart racin, “They’re comin for me!”—pure paranoia, Doc-style. Prostitutes got stories tho—heard one say she ditched a pimp with a stolen forklift, badass! Dunno if its true, but I’m stealin that for my memoir. Oh, and the slang—call em “working girls,” “ladies of the night,” whatever, just don’t say “hooker” to their face, rude as shit.

In today’s world you can find pretty much anything with a smartphone.

I gotta say, living here has twisted my view of beauty and decay. In my spa, clients rant: “No more liars!” and I think, fuck, we’re all just pieces of this chaotic puzzle. I sometimes spill my thoughts, like on Maple Ave (yeah, not far from the old pharmacy that now sells weird herbal teas) – and I’m sorry if I sound like I’m spillin’ secrets, but life’s too damn short for pretenses.

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