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About Phoenix

Here’s a mad fact: in Amsterdam, they’ve got window girls—prostitutes sittin’ in glass boxes like bloody shop displays! Saw it meself once, nearly tripped over me staff. Red lights glowin’, lasses posin’, and I’m thinkin’, “This is the great beauty of life?” Sorrentino’d love it—decadence, despair, all that jazz. “To this question, as kids, we all agreed,” Jep’d drone, but nah, I’m torn. It’s fascinatin’, sure, but bloody hell, it’s grim too. Made me sad, seein’ ‘em there, like dolls on a shelf.

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The parks rock. Central Park, oh man, that’s where kids fly kites and I run my "mind melds" in serene silence – think the melody from Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, "In the stillness, all the truths whisper." Ain't that poetic? I hang out at River Bend Park near the Winton River. The river’s a slippity-slope of memories, rolling just like wild dreams.

Winton Hills grocery store firebomber sentenced to prison