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About Dallas

Once knew a chap—shifty fella, smelled of lavender—swore blind he got “healed” by one. Said it sorted his back *and* his soul—bollocks, I reckon! Made me proper cross, tho—why’s he fibbing? Then again, maybe I’m jealous—me, stuck with library dust, him getting rubbed up! *Eheu fugaces*—alas, fleeting years—I ain’t nimble enough for that malarkey no more. Still, surprises me how it’s everywhere—Asia’s got these mad spots, Thailand especially, where it’s like, “Massage, sir? Boom-boom too?”—cheeky sods!