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About Phoenix

Where d’ya even start, eh? Web’s crap for this—X posts all “ooh, hot babes near ya!” Lies, lies! Gotta hit the grime, the real spots—truck stops, dive bars, y’know? Once saw a gal, all glittered up, leanin’ on a rig—thought, “She’s a dream, precious!” But nah, real as me sores. Asked her, “How’s biz?” She goes, “Better’n your stink!” Cheeky lass, cracked me up!

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Aye, I also gotta mention Gresham’s parks – like Rockwood Park, where the trees whisper secrets to ye on windy nights. Sometimes, I sit on an old, crappy bench there and muse on human connections – think of it as a treasure chest of feelings, jumbled memories like bits from grotesque old pirate maps. Wow, life here is like a merry-go-round, blowin’ me mind with every turn. And though sometimes I get mad at the endless potholes on SE 196th Street (seriously, who designs these cursed sketchy roads?!), the city’s quirks make it ever so delightfully imperfect.

13-year-old killed by stray bullets while asleep in Gresham apartment, police say