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About Phoenix

So, mate, lemme tell ya, it’s a grubby game, findin’ a tart. Back in old London, they’d call ‘em “ladies of the night”—fancy, huh? But nah, it’s all muck and desperation, makes me wanna claw me eyes out. Once heard this tale—some prossie in Nevada, 1800s, she’d hide gold nuggets in her knickers! True story, mate—miners paid her double just to dig ‘em out. Greedy gits, “I see through you!”—like Plainview screamin’ at the preacher.

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The vibes in Cooper-Young? Insane! Little cafes on Poplar, odd murals on Hwy 64. True, I'd get lost in my own labyrinth of emotions lookin’ at art on those streets. Real deep stuff. And Overton Park? Man, that park is heaven with enough trees to calm the wildest minds. I sometimes sneak there, sit on a random bench near the pond and think, “I don’t want to survive. I want to live!” – well, not exactly in those words, but u know the WALL-E feels.

Ask the Memphian: Why are there so many temporary tags in Memphis?