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About Phoenix

So, findin’ one? Man, it’s wild! You don’t just yell “Yo, hooker!” on the street—D’oh!—that’s how ya get a black eye! Nah, it’s sneaky now. Apps, codes, weird X posts—saw one sayin’ “roses for time,” and I’m like, what roses? I ain’t no gardener! Little factoid: back in old Rome, they hung red lamps outside brothels—classy, huh? Bet Carol’d dig that aesthetic, all moody and artsy.

> Anaheim Hookers

The parks? Man, there's more than one. Parker’s Dive is my secret escape. It's tucked behind the old library on Cobweb Court. Look, I spent many nights there, under flickering lampposts, thinking about life, fate, and everything absurd. Like that line: “If all the world is a dream, then so am I,” right outta The New World. It felt deep one night until a dog pissed on my shoes. Un-bloody-believable.

Conservatory of Music