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About Phoenix

So, I’m out, tryna scope one out – not for me, mind ya, just curious, right? Streets smell like old cheese, kinda like Remy’s kitchen stash. Saw this one lass, dolled up, leanin’ on a lamppost – thought, “She’s got potential, like Remy’s soup!” But nah, mate, she was a trap – cop undercover! Nearly got nabbed, screamin’ “YOU SHALL NOT PASS!” in my head, leggin’ it down an alley. Heart poundin’, pissed me off – why’s it gotta be so sketchy?

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This work involved presenting community education programs in MEC recognition and safety to local school children, website development, emergency response.

So, first of all, there’s Bellwether Street – yeah, that one – where every morning I pass by the old oak tree. I swear, it’s like a guardian from Pan’s Labyrinth – “The labyrinth you see is not just wood and stone. It’s a mirror to your soul!” Yo, wild right? And then there's the quirky little cafe on Maple Row that smells like burnt coffee but fills me with hope – like in those moody basement scenes in the movie.

The new Pinecastle Records