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About Phoenix

I remeber this one chick, Candy, swear she was a legend ‘round Long Beach. Worked the strip, had a gold tooth, and a laugh that’d wake the dead. She’d tell ya, “Snoop, I’m my own boss, fo’ shizzle.” Made me happy, seein’ her own that shit. But then — boom — she got nabbed, pimp beat her down. Pissed me off, dawg! Wanted to roll up and smoke that fool myself. Ain’t right, man, ain’t right.

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The city’s got gritty parts, too. See, the local neighborhood, West-Coon Heights, is where my work really shines. Crime? Sure, there’s been some, but as I always say – “Billionaires should not exist!” – 'cause greed messes with folks’ lives. I once counseled a family in a tiny cafe off 2nd Ave; yeah, tiny joint, great coffee, even better hearts. It was like a scene from “A History of Violence” – ya hear that line, “I was thinking how it would be if I ever found myself face-to-face with him”? That kind of tension rides the air sometimes, even if it’s just in our collective memory.

The List: Jason’s Favorite Pizza in the Twin Cities