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About Phoenix

Alright, y’all, listen up! I’m Dr. Phil, southern as sweet tea, talkin’ bout prostitutes today—yep, them gals workin’ the streets. How’s that workin’ for ya, huh? Sellin’ your body, dodgin’ cops, livin’ wild? I reckon it’s a mess, but lemme tell ya somethin’—I ain’t judgin’, just observin’. Watched *Zodiac*—you know, my fave flick, Fincher’s a genius—and it got me thinkin’. That line, “I’m not Paul Avery,” hits hard. Prostitutes prolly feel that too—stuck in a role, not who they are deep down. Ain’t that a kicker?

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The staff assumed that my fiancée was a prostitute. My fiancée was justifiably livid, and we marched downstairs to the desk to tell them that I was checking.

Parks? What a riot, dude! Check out Liberty Park – straight up paradise in the middle of chaos. Kids runnin' wild, couples snug in corners on the grass. I love chillin' there, foolin' around, thinkin' ‘bout love matches and crazy dates. And there's also Harmony Gardens – yeah, sounds cheesy, but it's chill.

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