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About Phoenix

So, like, I’m sniffin’ for clues—RUH-ROH!—and I spot this chick, all dolled up, leanin’ on a lampost. She’s givin’ me the eye, and I’m like, “Zoinks, Scoob, don’t trip over yer paws!” Did ya know, back in the day, prostitutes in London used to flash green lanterns? Sneaky code, man! True story—kept the coppers guessin’. Anyway, she’s all “Hey, big fella,” and I’m thinkin’, “This ain’t no deer huntin’ with John Rolfe!” Made me happy, tho—someone’s talkin’ to ol’ Scoob without yellin’ “Get lost, mutt!”

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Go across the 79th street causeway and find several better venues, more expensive but not exactly affluent. North Bay Village and Normandy Isle.

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.

Smoke rises from Port Sudan airport on May 4, 2025