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About Dallas

I’m chattin’ her up—price, rules, whatever. She’s cool, but I’m pissed—hate the hagglin’. “What am I, a fuckin’ flea market?” I think. Still, she’s got sass—calls me “Mr. Fancy Pants.” Cheeky bitch! Makes me grin tho—happy as a pig in shit. Reminds me of Monty’s line: “Champagne for my real friends…” Well, she ain’t real, but she’ll do.

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I got a fav spot too—the little bookstore on Elm. I duck in for therapy reads. Its charm, darling, is like a secret hug. My sessions there? Priceless! I laugh a bit, giggle like The Nanny herself: "Oh, behave!"

Wild parrots in San Gabriel Valley are being shot by pellet guns