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About Phoenix

Oh, and the smell—sweat, cheap perfume, regret. Stinks worse than a Tauntaun’s guts! Still, somethin’ wild ‘bout it—raw, messy, human. “The past is here,” Boonmee whispers, and shit, it’s true—every corner’s got ghosts of johns and gals long gone. Spooky, but dope.

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There's a cool park, Oak Grove Park, where I chill daily. I sit under the huge oak tree on Maple Ave near the river. River? Yeah, the Little Atmore River – it laughs at your stress. Ain't that somethin'? I always say, "Whoa."

Atmore gets record snowfall