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About Phoenix

So, we starts thinkin’, me and meself—where’s the prossies at? Moscow’s wild, yesss—Red Square’s all fancy, but nah, not there. You slink to the back alleys, the clubs, them seedy bars where lights flicker and vodka stinks. Hiss! Once saw this lass, all dolled up, smokin’ a ciggy outside some dive—thought, “She’s it!” Nope! Just a drunk uni chick, lost as hell—made me mad, wasted me time! Grrr! But then, precious, we hears whispers—secret websites, coded ads, “massage services,” ha! Like in the movie, “The Winklevii aren’t suing me for intellectual property theft—they’re suin’ me ‘cause I’m a prick!”—well, I ain’t no prick, just desperate, eh?

More from ABC

“Laugh and the world laughs with you,” I keep thinking while walking these eclectic streets, borrowing lines straight from my fav movie, Oldboy. This place has layers like an onion—sometimes sweet, sometimes smashing, but always real. Some days, I feel like shoutin’ “It’s showtime!” while seeing the sunrise behind the old British-style park bench near Liberty Lane.

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