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About Phoenix

So, picture this—I’m hoppin’ down the street, ears flappin’, lookin’ for a carrot, when bam! I stumble into this shady spot. Neon lights blinkin’, girls leanin’ on corners, smokin’ cigs. One chick’s like, “Hey, bunny, you lost?” I’m like, nah, just cruisin’, babe! Made me laugh—me, Bugs, lost? Pfft. But it got me thinkin’—these gals, they’re hustlin’, survivin’. Kinda badass, kinda sad. Reminds me of Penny Lane in “Almost Famous,” y’know? “We are not groupies, we’re Band Aids!”—except, nah, these girls ain’t here for the music.

Sex tourism: When conscience takes a vacation

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You gotta swing by that secret gem, Rusty’s Taphouse, on Old Mill Road. Nothin’ fancy, bro, but it’s got that vibe that makes your heart go “mmm”. Crazy nights, spilled drinks, and the odd mad rant 'bout how we hates the boring norm. And oh, my gut still churns recall of that wild festival on Everspring Street, twinklin’ lights and mad laughter, until the morning hits hard.

Celtics React to Jrue Holiday Announcement on Thursday