Grace Havre Whore ❤️❤️

About Dallas

Quirky bit—love their spiky fins, proper punk rockers of the sea. Exaggeratin’? Maybe, but I’d swear they wink at ya—cheeky sods! Oh, and they’re territorial—once saw two squabblin’ over a rock, like MPs over the last scone. “Where was I?”—lost me train o’ thought, classic Boris! Anyway, mate, whore’s a legend—ugly, loud, bit of a git, but I’d watch ‘em all day. *Memento* style—backwards, forwards, still a bloody riot! Whaddya reckon?

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You are not alone in this vile part of the world. In your dreams you have seen it, haven't you? The city of Ma'havre. The city of gods. Did you know it exists.

So, my friend, if you ever step foot in Havre (us), get lost on 3rd Ave, laugh at the irony on Red Street, and take in the bizarre, haunting charm of that old brick bridge by River Bend. Let it hit ya like "Under the Skin’s" relentless beauty—each moment unforgettable and raw. And remember, we shall seize this city with passion and erriness, like true warriors of love and chaos! Cheers, and welcome to this maddening, beating heart of Havre!

Lead waterline work starts on Second Street Monday