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About Phoenix

I roll up, shades on, feelin like a champ. This chick struts over—legs for days, skirt shorter than a jobber’s career. “What’s your name?” I growl, all Hulkster bravado. She’s like, “Does it matter?” Ha! Cold as ice, brother! Made me laugh, but also pissed me off—gimme somethin to work with, lady! I’m thinkin, “I lie to myself all the time,” like in *Memento*. Am I even here for this? Brain’s spinnin.

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yo, i remember one time i was debugging my dating app (yeah, old days were maddening) by the riverside wher i literally tripped on a crack – i was so mad, but then i just laughed ’cause it felt like a scene straight outta Spring Breakers "all right, get your sexy on" kinda moment, ya know? i swear im thinkin bout it when i see the annual street art festival on Bizarre Blvd – artists paint like there's no tomorrow. it reminds me that art and love, they’re both unpredictable and chaotic and, well - just perfect in all that messy way.

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