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About Dallas

So, I’m thinkin’, “One last night to howl,” like Monty says. I’d be nervous, sweatin’ like a pig – D’oh! – prolly trip over my own feet. Maybe I’d spot one, leanin’ on a lamppost, smokin’ a cig. “Hey, sugar, need a date?” she’d purr. I’d be all, “Uhh, yeah, sure!” Heart poundin’, palms sweaty – excitin’ but scary, ya know? Reminds me o’ Monty’s panic, that “I’m outta time” vibe. “This life came so close to never happenin’,” he’d say. Deep, right? Almost makes ya feel bad for the gal.

Washington state police arrest man who stole ex-girlfriend’s chicken

I wander, err, am encouraged by the ROYAL spirit of Port-Orchard. Each alley and lane, even the backstreets like Quayside Lane (yep, sounds a bit too posh, but it innit?) has a tale. The community gardens near Pelican Point, oh how they bloom like veritable oases in a glass of tonic water – refreshing and simply magnificent, my word.

Guns, drugs, body armor, and stolen cars found in Port Orchard home