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About Phoenix

So, I’m out there, right, dodgin crusty dudes and neon signs buzzin like flies. “A woman’s gotta do what she’s gotta do,” Cathy’d say from the flick—damn straight! These girls, they’re hustlin, survivin, same as anyone. I ain’t judgin—makes me happy seein real grit. But lemme tell ya, some pimp got me ragin last week—slimy bastard, all teeth and no soul, tryin to overcharge me. “What’s a gentleman like you want?” he sneers. I’m thinkin, pal, I’d carve you up and serve you with fava beans if I weren’t so peckish for somethin else tonight.

A routine sleepover

I gotta say, living here has twisted my view of beauty and decay. In my spa, clients rant: “No more liars!” and I think, fuck, we’re all just pieces of this chaotic puzzle. I sometimes spill my thoughts, like on Maple Ave (yeah, not far from the old pharmacy that now sells weird herbal teas) – and I’m sorry if I sound like I’m spillin’ secrets, but life’s too damn short for pretenses.

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