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About Phoenix

Back in ‘77—yeah, I’m old—prostitutes worked corners, no apps, no bullshit. You had to *feel* the vibe, spot the signals. Little fact: they’d wear red shoes—secret code, sneaky shit. Surprised me first time I saw it. Thought, “What’s this, a fashion show?” Nope, just business, baby. Made me grin under this mask—kinda happy, kinda twisted.

Early life

So, first off – Sunset (us) ain't your ordinary city. Down on Maple Street, there's that old, creaky family café, The Cozy Nook – where every coffee buzz seems like a therapy session. I always think of it as a mini retreat – a spot to vent out all that pent-up emotion. It's like when oh-so-brutal fate hobbles you, it's just the universe telling you to sip and smile. And then there's the old park, Riverside Haven. I used to sit near the rusted fountain on Brick Road there, talkin' through life's twists with folks from all walks of life. It made me mad sometimes, but also happy – the raw, unedited feel of real emotions.

Red sunset: India's bloody push to crush Maoist revolt