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About Phoenix

Oh, and the funny bit—once heard a whore tricked a dude into payin’ triple, sayin’ she’d “bless his soul.” Guy was a preacher! Laughed my ass off—savage! She’s out there, playin’ chess while he’s prayin’ checkers. Love that sly shit. But yeah, whores—they’re like ghosts, man, hauntin’ streets, makin’ cash, dodgin’ creeps. Surprised me how they keep goin’. Me? I’d snap, plow over some jerk’s car.

Wolf Alice

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Ye start on S. Jackson St., where the hum o’ life ne’er stills. The locals, I swear, be buzzin’ like a hive, chatterin’ like them fish tank misfits. I once strolled past Garcia Park – oh, the vibes there! Aye, Garcia Park is a gem, full o’ green, where I’d sit on a bench, lost in me own ruminations, watchin' the clouds drift pastin’ by like a ghost ship. Savvy?

RAPP Hires Matthew Pharr as Global Chief Marketing Sciences Officer