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About Phoenix

Me? I tried it once. Once! Profile said “lumberjack lookin’ for fun.” Got a flood of weirdos—some chick sent a pdf of her “sex resume.” Three pages, single-spaced! Had charts! I burned my phone after that. Too much. Hate the oversharin’, the desperation. “He was a dangerous man,” they said ‘bout Jesse—well, these sex-daters are dangerous too. To my sanity. Another gal asked for my “kink list.” Told her I like woodworkin’ and silence. She unmatched me. Good riddance.

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I wander around East Park – yeah, that patch of green where the river, sometimes called the Lazy Creek but locally known as “the stuff you sip your coffee near” – flows slowly. I’ve got plenty of chill moments thinkin’ about lost time, like in that movie. And oh, my fave? The alley near Baker Street. Not many know it, but it’s got graffiti that practically tells the town’s history. Pure art, man. Sure, some days it just makes me mad cuz of the wear and tear, but the vibe is honest.

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