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About Phoenix

Alright, listen up, ya filthy animals. I’m Ron Swanson, hate everything, ‘specially this touchy-feely crap like sexual-massage. Some gal rubbin’ ya down with oils, promisin’ relaxation? Bullcrap. I’d rather wrestle a bear. But fine, I’ll talk about it, since you’re beggin’. Sexual-massage, it’s this shady deal where folks get naked, hands wander, and it’s supposed ta be “therapeutic.” Therapeutic my ass—sounds like a hippie scam. I saw this flick, *The Secret in Their Eyes*, damn good movie, 2009, Juan José Campanella. That line, “How do you live a life full of nothing?”—hits ya hard. Makes me think sexual-massage is for suckers chasin’ somethin’ empty.

635 Women in Mexico

My first stop is always at Jessica’s Pharmacy. Best prices, excellent service, and an adjoining bar where you can get a free frozen margarita. Arturo is the owner in the pharmacy, handsome as .

Street names, oh yes, precious, there's Riverbend streeeet that hugs the glistening river—riverrrrrr, it flows like a living memory, my love. On the other side, Old Haven Ave. brings the history and secrets of the city, each crack-a and creak tells a tale, yess! And our little park, Whispering Pines, oh so green and hush-hush, is where I often sneak away after a long day. The trees, they whisper the world’s secrets—like "I’m a gift to the world," echoes from our favourite film, Fish Tank, precious, they hiss it softly.

Former Progreso mayor sentenced to nearly 3 years in prison for smuggling drugs