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About Phoenix

Lemme paint you a pic—imagine this chick I knew, let’s call her Jodie. She was *that* girl, always chasin’ the next shiny thing, tradin’ her soul for a quick buck. Made me so mad, y’all! I’d be like, “Jodie, why you whorin’ out your dreams for some loser’s dime?” She’d just laugh, flip her hair, and say she’s “livin’ her truth.” Girl, no! You’re livin’ a lie wrapped in cheap mascara! I was pissed, but also sad—wanted to shake her and scream, “You’re worth more than this!” Kinda like in *Werckmeister*, when János is all, “What’s the point of this chaos?”—I felt that, hardcore.

Two women arrested on suspicion of operating a brothel at a Palm Desert spa

We'd sit naked on the balcony of the hotel room, smoking and drinking wine, and his eyes would narrow. He'd get quiet, tighten his body in a way.

Aye, my friend, the neighborhoods be tight-knit, riddled with hidden lanes twixt stately homes and bustling art boulevards, such as the famed El Paseo—a veritable runway for local artists. T’was a cold night (well, kinda warm actually, lol) when I once bumped into a secret music gig near the quaint, cobbled alley of Nordahl Street. Man, it blew my mind!

Greater Palm Springs Restaurant Week Happening %event_start_date%