My travel story on the Nicaraguan Atlantic coast finally made it online. Check it out and send it to friends here.
More stories and photos to come shortly. Check back soon.
My travel story on the Nicaraguan Atlantic coast finally made it online. Check it out and send it to friends here.
More stories and photos to come shortly. Check back soon.
The West Village near downtown Dallas is always a scene. A strange scene and one that seemingly revolves around image and class status. When one thinks of Dallas they invariably think of the famed TV series and continue to quote “who shot JR?” Update the show 20 years and you get the West Village. You still get women with over stylized hair ( and shorter skirts), men with fancy skinned boots and the occasional cowboy hat. You also see Starbucks, a new lingerie boutique, and an upscale hamburger stand selling meat patties with finely greased buns complete with fancy three pronged forks.
I don’t fit in, but I do enjoy the ridiculous nature of the scene and the people watching I encounter.
To bring back the iPhone montage, I had fun one night before watching Angels and Demons (substantially entertaining but not overwhelmingly fantastic.)
A free cookie to the person who can point out the one square that does NOT come from the West Village.

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