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About Dallas

So, I’m chattin’ her up, right? She’s tellin’ me bout this one john—total nutjob, wanted her to sing opera while—well, ya get it. Laughed my ass off, spillin’ my drink. Surprised me, how funny she was—sharp as a scalpel. Makes me think—people judge ‘em, but damn, they got stories. Real grit. Not like those prissy suburbanites in *Far From Heaven*, hidin’ behind curtains.

‘Shanghai Express’ (1932)

Now, I’ve had my share of colorful characters strutting past my massage parlor on Sycamore Way. Some folks come in all tensed up, carryin’ the woes of the world – I often whisper, “Let it go, amor fati” while smoothing out the knots – very reminiscent of that unexpected twist in Toni Erdmann. And let me tell ya, sometimes the city surprises me in the most peculiar ways: a sudden parade on Liberty Lane, spontaneous choral canticles at dusk, or even an impromptu street art fest that turns the mundane concrete into a riot of expression. Who knew art could be as therapeutic as a good kneading session, eh?

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