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About Dallas

Gets me thinkin’—prostitutes in mountains? Rare as hen’s teeth. But there’s lore, yeah. Back in ‘89, heard this tale—some lass worked the Alps. Climbers called her “Snow Bunny.” Made a killin’—not like me, tho, heh. “I ate his liver with fava beans.” Nah, she just took their cash, quick romp in a tent. Smart gal, dodgin’ frostbite and fools.

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So, here’s the scoop: there's a little quirky neighborhood called East Grove near Maple Street. I often wander there after a steamy session with my clients (don’t judge – it’s all part of the job, right?) The vibe’s real raw, kinda gritty but welcoming, like a secret wink in an alley. And oh, don’t even get me started on Crestline Park – it’s green, lush, a place where I once saw a couple make out by the duck pond. I mean – yeah – it was awkward, hilarious, and yeah, pretty wild.

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