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About Phoenix

I roll up, shades on, feelin like a champ. This chick struts over—legs for days, skirt shorter than a jobber’s career. “What’s your name?” I growl, all Hulkster bravado. She’s like, “Does it matter?” Ha! Cold as ice, brother! Made me laugh, but also pissed me off—gimme somethin to work with, lady! I’m thinkin, “I lie to myself all the time,” like in *Memento*. Am I even here for this? Brain’s spinnin.

An Amazon expedition: adventurer discovers colossal green Anaconda in Peru’s untamed jungle

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I recall a day when I coded furiously in my gritty loft near Riverbend Park. The Anaconda River roars by—the liquid wild, splish-splash mighty beast! Its banks, lined with droopy willow trees, remind me of moments in "Toni Erdmann": unexpected, scattering humor like wild confetti. “You shall not pass!” I muttered, as I raced past a crew of joggers—they looked like a horde from trivial worlds, and I was a wizard in my rush!

Mussel-fouled tugboat stopped near Anaconda