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About Phoenix

So, here’s the deal—brothels ain’t just sex dens, nah. They’re like theaters, man, stages where people play roles. You got your johns, your workers, all actin’ out some script. I remeber this one spot—Nevada, back in ‘98—called the Moonlite Bunny Ranch. Legal, loud, and proud. Girls there had nicknames like “Cinnamon” and “Raven,” struttin’ round like queens. Made me laugh, seein’ em work the room—smooth as hell. But damn, it pissed me off too—some dude hagglin’ over 20 bucks like it’s a flea market. Bro, she’s a person, not a damn rug!

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And let me tell ya, I’ve got mad fave spots. There’s that park – Riverbend Park – where you can sit and watch the lazy stream, feel the cool breeze, and just let your worries float away. I sometimes get lost just pressin’ my palms against the cool stones, thinkin’ “I don’t want to get pulled into another man in a suit.”

103-year-old bridge's closure isolates key areas of Mount Rainier National Park