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About Dallas

Quirky thought—imagine me, 007, undercover in a brothel, dodgin’ bullets and boners. “I’m here to carve my name,” I’d growl, Tarantino-style, dodgin’ a drunk john. Exaggeratin’? Maybe, but brothels are bloody theatres—dramas, laughs, tears, all for a fiver. Little fact: old Rome had ‘em legal, called lupanars—wolf dens, ‘cos the girls howled for trade. Savage, eh?

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Ever walked by the river? The Little Elm flows right by the community center. It sometimes floods, which, believe me, makes a scene. I once got soaked head to toe and ended up laughing like a madman. Messy, no shoes, just enjoying the moment. "Brokeback Mountain" vibes, baby—nature’s raw, and so is life.

Murder Mystery Dinner returns