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About Phoenix

Lemme tell ya, I’m no expert, but I’ve heard stories—wild ones! Didja know in Amsterdam they got these window girls? Like a damn human vending machine! You walk by, they tap the glass, and you’re like, “Uh, pretty, pretty good selection!” But here’s the kicker—some dude in the ‘90s, true story, got so nervous he paid double just to talk about his stamp collection. Freakin’ stamps! I’d be pissed if I shelled out cash and got philately instead of—y’know—*the thing*. Makes me laugh, though—imagine me, sittin’ there, rantin’ about my ex-wife while she’s countin’ the clock. “Time’s money, Larry!” she’d say. Hilarious!

This York street was notorious for its 'destitute prostitutes'. But where was it?

Speaking of parks, let me ramble on 'bout Crescent Park on Westside. It's a green gem, y'know? I sit there practice my deep breaths, watch the little kids run wild by the babbling brook, and sometimes, just sometimes, I get all nostalgic. A secret spot of mine is by a hidden old willow tree—birds chirpin', wind a-whisperin', just pure bliss. Somedays, I think, "Hell, ain't this like the Batcave of serenity?" And trust me, it's as real as they come.

Minlaton Medical Centre's emergency department forced to temporarily close