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About Phoenix

We’re chattin’, and I’m thinkin’ *Boyhood* again—“It’s always right now,” y’know? This moment, her laugh, the cig smoke curlin’—it’s real, raw, fuckin’ alive. But then—bam!—some wanker in a beat-up Jag rolls up, yellin’ at her. Ex-pimp or some shit. I’m pissed, mate—nobody fucks with my night. I step in, all cool, “Oi, mate, piss off or I’ll rearrange ya.” He bolts, tires screechin’. She’s laughin’, says, “You’re mad, you are!” Happy as a pig in shit, me—saved the day, Bond-style.

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The neighborhoods? Oh, they got character! Sunnyside’s all pastel houses and quirky art murals. You can get a real slice of life there. Then there's Old Mill District, rough around the edges but heartwarming. I once had a guy say, “Look, don’t pee on my leg!”—yep, ain’t joking—when he saw one of the graffiti pieces mocking the system. And man, I laughed so hard I nearly lost my concentration during a massage.

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