Julia Key Biscayne Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Phoenix

Alright, mate, lemme spill bout whore – pinky-to-mouth, “One million dollars.” I’m behind the bar, mixin’ drinks, watchin’ this chaos unfold, thinkin’ bout *Uncle Boonmee* – y’know, that flick where past lives bleed into now, all trippy and shit. Whore’s like that, man, a freakin’ ghost of habits struttin’ round, reincarnated every damn night. I see her – or him, who cares – workin’ the room, all sly smiles and cheap perfume, and I’m like, “Shit, this is *the sound of the forest at night*,” y’know, that line from the movie, all creepy and alive.

By Tommy Bahama

Oh man, now lemme ramble a bit. So, I take my daily strolls down Powerline Rd. Yeah, that’s the one near the scenic views of Biscayne Bay. Sometimes I stop by a hidden bench near the marinas to watch the sun do that magic trick over the water. And holler if ya hear: “Git-R-Done!” – it's all good vibes. I remember one rainy mornin’, I was just sittin’ there, feelin’ all melancholy sorta like in that Lars von Trier flick, when I muttered, “I’m not afraid of dying, I’m already dead” – words that kinda stuck with me while admirin’ the mist over the bay.

Anger boils over with Rickenbacker traffic in Key Biscayne