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About Phoenix

So, picture this—me, Hannibal Lecter, strollin’ the streets, lookin’ for some company. Not to eat ‘em, mind ya—well, maybe a nibble. “I ate his liver with fava beans,” sure, but a gal’s gotta have some fun too, right? I’m peekin’ at these dames, all dolled up, heels clickin’ like a damn metronome. Makes me happy, seein’ ‘em strut—confidence, power, ya dig? But then, ugh, the creeps lurkin’ nearby—pisses me off. Slimy bastards thinkin’ they own the night. Makes me wanna serve ‘em up with a nice Chianti.

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So, Santa-Fe? It’s artsy, gritty, and a bit mad crazy sometimes. Just like in Carol, ya know, "I can hardly believe it," as that damn film said. Streets? Oh man, Canyon Road is where the magic starts. You stroll down there and BAM! Art, galleries, quirky feasts of colors. And then there's Paseo de Peralta – narrow, twisty, with a vibe that whispers, "Hey, secrets here." Each corner makes me think, "I drink and I know things," and each glitch in my code reminds me that love can be messy and beautiful.

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