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About Phoenix

So, we chat—turns out, she’s savin’ for somethin’ big. “A little plant of hope,” she says, like WALL-E’s dream. I’m touched, man—didn’t expect feels on this mission. I slip her extra quid, sayin’, “Keep the groove alive, baby!” She winks, and I’m off, struttin’ like I own the night.

Sex, drug stings nab more from suburbs than city

A woman, any woman, can't sit and have a peaceful meal in the woods and enjoy a tiny speck of nature without being made to feel uncomfortable by suspicious.

There’s a park, uh, St. Clair Park that’s pure magic on sunny days. I once sat on a bench there – oh, the stories it could tell, if ya listen! I overheard couples, sinc. lovey-dovey confessions, all like “hey, daddy-o, we dig ya!” or somethin like that. It makes me smile, we swears! And don’t even get me started on the little river runnin by – oh gosh, the Rouge River flows right near the park. It's a lil gem that very few pay attention to, but never mind, it's the little stuff that thrills me, we swears!

Charles Robert “Charlie” Rutherford