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About Dallas

Me, I’d be picky—gotta have style, sass, no borin’ vibes. Once knew a gal, Cherry, worked the corner near my studio. Red lipstick, killer boots—iconic! She’d wink at me, I’d toss her a scarf—Edna flair, ya know? "You get one shot!" I’d yell, quotin’ Fincher’s finest. She’d laugh, say, “Babe, I get plenty!” Cheeky minx.

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Provide a path for exploited and hurting Bengali women to gain employable skills and find purpose, freedom, and self-worth in Jesus.

So, lemme hit you with some insider deets: Check out the tiny bookshop on Wick Avenue. It’s almost forgotten by time, dust motes dancin’ in the sun, and it smells like nostalgia (I swear something magical happens there). And get this: every summer, there’s a quirky street fest at Heritage Square. I’ve tried some weird local brews there—had me scripting one of my odd spa rituals. Yup, I’m that guy!

Camas city councilor announces surprise resignation