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About Phoenix

Look, it’s simple—prossies ain’t hard to find. Taverns, alleys, even knockin’ on the right door. They’re like rats, poppin’ up where coin is. Exaggeratin’? Maybe, but I’d say half the city’s whorin’ on the sly. “What is this strange country?”—Malick’s line fits, ‘cause this place is a bloody jungle. Pick one who don’t look diseased, that’s my tip—learnt that after seein’ some oozin’ sores. Ugh, gag me.

I paid a prostitute in Hanoi

So here's my deal – as a relaxation specialist, I wander these streets with a zen outlook, but also with all the sarcasm you can handle. Take Elm Road: it's not just a road; it's a therapy session. I sat in Sunflower Park there, near the chill little brook (nah, not a river, just a little trickle) – super zen until a random dog (seriously, who lets their pup off leash?) sent me into a mini heart-attack. I was like, "I can see Russia from my house!" – okay, exaggeration but seriously, this place surprises ya every time.

Cannabis in Islip, mascot fight and Trump, bishop's endorsement, Harvard