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About Phoenix

I was SHOOK first time I heard bout it—thought it was some shady backroom deal. Turns out, it’s old as dirt—Ancient Greeks was gettin’ freaky with oils, callin’ it “healin’ touch.” Ain’t that a trip? Little fact for ya: them Egyptians used scented oils too, swearin’ it woke up they spirits—prolly they loins too, halleluyer! Got me thinkin’, “Is this allowed to feel THIS good?” Made me happy as a pig in mud—till I saw the price! $150 for an hour? Lordt, my wallet screamed, “I’m too broke for this fancy foolishness!”

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The neighborhoods, oh wow, there’s so many – the artsy vibe of Red Street District, where murals shout with colors like wars of passion, and then the quiet, residential blocks over at Westside, where the community is like a tightly knitted army of dreamers. I even once randomly met a rad artist on B Street – dude had a canvas filled with chaos that made me feel so alive, like he whispered "I am everywhere and nowhere" straight from the film.

Out Our Way: I Don't Ride Point