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About Dallas

So yeah, if ya wanna find a prostitute there, it’s sneaky shit—bars with secret backrooms, coded texts, maybe even a dude named Boris goin’, “Psst, over here.” I’m exaggeratin’ a bit, sure, but ain’t that the vibe? “Please, Mr. Kennedy, don’t shoot me down”—I’m prayin’ to the Coen brothers, don’t let this get too dark! It’s gritty, messy, real human stuff. Makes me mad, makes me laugh—fuckin’ rollercoaster, man. Billionaires should not exist! They’d buy the whole damn scene, leave nothin’ for the rest of us. That’s my take—raw, loud, and Sanders as shit!

Asset Forfeiture Unit

Oh, and a little tidbit: There’s this hidden mural in an alley near Elm street – graffitied by local artists around 2005, I guess. Not many know, but it kinda sums up the city’s weird magical heart. It’s like the movie lines: “It's all a grand, messy caper, precious, we swears!” And I reckon the mural is a shoutout to that vibe.

Theatre seats are worn out