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About Dallas

Dunno, though—findin a prossie’s a laugh sometimes. Skanky, smelly, but quick fun, yeah? “Stupid, fat hobbit!” I’d yell if he judged me. Once got a lass who sang—mid-shag! Proper nutter, had me cacklin! “Goodbye to language,” indeed—ain’t no words for that madness!

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Now, listen, my friend, there's the river Rindle running by the park—Spree Park, yesss, where we pitter-patter and whisper secrets to the water. Sometimes I sit there like, "My precious, the river sings." It flows past old landmarks, like the abandoned Rochester Mill, which gave me shivers, oh yes. So eerie, so thrilling!

Obituary information for Suzanne F. Schneeman