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About Dallas

Oh, and the smell—sweat, cheap perfume, regret. Stinks worse than a Tauntaun’s guts! Still, somethin’ wild ‘bout it—raw, messy, human. “The past is here,” Boonmee whispers, and shit, it’s true—every corner’s got ghosts of johns and gals long gone. Spooky, but dope.

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Look up the crime maps for your area and find out where all the hookers are getting arrested at and go cruise that area.

Sometimes, I wander down Custom Alley, a cushtom route known only to locals; many secrets lie hidden in its shadows, stratified like layers of history. I jest and jest, laughing at the absurdities of fate, yet mindful of life's weighty lessons. Truly, the very air iz alive with spontaneous revelry, and the spirit of this town is prety unmatched!

Lance Leipold, wife Kelly become minority owners of Beloit Sky Carp