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About Phoenix

Now, I reckon it’s tricky—findin someone who ain’t a cop or a scam. Happy little trees don’t grow in shady alleys, y’know? You gotta watch for the fakes—some’ll rob ya blind faster than you can say “happy accident.” Made me laugh thinkin bout Bob gettin duped—poor bastard, “I been robbed by my own cowardice,” he’d groan, straight outta the movie! Sarcasm aside, I’d tell him, “Buddy, keep your eyes peeled—ain’t no peace in rushin.”

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Then there’s the infamous Redwood Park. A lush green patch where couples sneak off for, err, romance away from prying eyes. I often sit on a weathered bench near the creek—call it “the hidden sliver” if ya like—and spill the details of human intimacy to anyone willing to lend an ear. That creek? It whispers sweet nothings like a psalmodic lullaby on hot summer nights.

Highlands High School still without power, internet