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Here’s a quirky bit—didja know some old ports had “prostitute fish”? Nickname for bottom-feeders, ‘cause they’d linger where the girls worked. Stinky, slimy, perfect match! Cracked me up, but also—eww, right? My brain’s like, “Dr. Evil, don’t overthink it,” but I do. Always. Exaggerating? Maybe. But it’s a jungle out there—pinky-to-mouth, “One million dollars!”—and these dames are apex predators.

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And then, heaps of fun in the parks! Hydeville Park, right by that squiggly little river, the Dallas Creek, gurgling, it does, with dark palpitations, yesss, so peaceful, but it hides secrets, oh precious, secrets over and over! I once met a potential cutesy date, oh, and we walked the creek, whisperin' sweet lies to rocks, heh heh… But then, scampers of stray dogs, yesss, brought mischief – I got mad, oh we did, running after 'em like a mad hobbit, yesss.

Wilonsky: Dallas is just going to kick the Kalita down the road, again