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About Dallas

Back in my Texas days—yeehaw!—I heard whispers bout secret brothels in ol’ oil towns. Roughnecks blowin’ cash, playin’ cards, gittin’ frisky. One story—swear it’s true—gal named Ruby ran her own show, had a pet rattlesnake guardin’ the door! Ain’t nobody messin’ with Ruby—tougher’n a two-dollar steak! Surprised me so much I near fell off my horse—well, my chair.

Charities have now called on police to stop criminalising sex workers

Then there's Lakeside Avenue—hey, that street’s got some real energy; the river Wren flows by and its babbling waters are like whispers to your soul. Seriously, it makes me say, “I am the wind, I am the sea,” in my head. The locals? They’re a riot. I mean, my buddy Tony always grins when he passes by Saffron Lane near the old town hall. True story, man.

Tribute to Coventry City understudy who typified the spirit of '87 FA Cup winning squad