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About Phoenix

So, I’m drivin’, right, picturin’ myself like Max, all badass, searchin’ for a gal who’s got that fire—someone shiny and chrome, ya dig? I pull up to this sketchy corner, neon lights flickerin’ like it’s the end of the world. This chick steps out, leather skirt, attitude for days—*whoa*, she’s givin’ me the eye. “How you doin’?” I toss out, leanin’ on the car, smirkin’ like I own the damn place. She laughs, says, “You got caps, pretty boy?” Caps? What is this, Fallout? I’m like, “Nah, babe, I got charm—worth more!”

Gladstone’s Prostitutes

"If there was one thing he [Gladstone] enjoyed more than chopping down trees (his passion by day) it was accosting prostitutes by night, enticing them home for tea, money, and .

I get so wired and erratic sometimes, I almost miss a beat. The city? It’s messy, raw, and alive! Streets are twisty, parks are a riot of colors (Lena Park at dawn is like a sunrise on fire!), and the people… oh boy, the people are a cocktail of grit and grace.

Dealer Barbara Gladstone’s Art Collection Will Be Sold: Sources