Dallas: The land of the Ripley's Believe it or Not museum, and a hotel that housed my dog, my family, and myself for one night. The eve of my birthday.
Dallas proved to be... not that fantastic. At all. From what I saw anyway. Dallas-ites everywhere are going to spam my blog with hate mail about how fabulous the city of the Cowboys are, but I'm a recalcitrant! I doth not care for thine silly whims!
The room is nice. It has a bed. With hair in it. That doesn't belong to me. These lovely foreign pink stains only worry me a little bit, but other than that I am fairly sure I will survive. I'm sure some baddies will crawl through the air ducts while I sleep and take pictures of me or do the shaving cream and feather deal, but that's alright. At least it's a roof.
See that? Postive side. Good start.
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