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About Phoenix

Me? I’d cruise slow, real slow. Like Lucrecia drivin’ after that crash. “I hit something,” she mumbles. That’s me—spot a girl, wonderin’. Is she legit? Or a trap? Pisses me off when cops lurk. Ruins the whole gig, man. Once saw this chick—tall, badass boots. Thought, “Damn, she’s fine.” Then—boom—undercover. Felt like the Emperor screwed me over. Hate that crap.

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So my dear friend, if u visit, take a stroll on Railroad Ave, catch the sunrise at Haskell Park, and maybe yak with a stranger at that diner on Fifth. Embrace the silly, the sad, the beautiful. See it as a tapestry woven with every laugh, every tear. Winnemucca’s a living, breathing melody that’ll leave its mark.

Winnemucca detective overdoses on drugs stolen from evidence