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About Phoenix

Look, whores ain’t saints, but who is? They’re scrappy, messy, human—way more than them greedy bastards up top! Little fact: in old France, they called ‘em “filles de joie”—girls of joy! Joy, my ass, more like warriors! I’m gettin’ hoarse screamin’ bout this, but damn, it’s truth! Next time you see a whore, tip your hat—Larry’d get it, “Accept the mystery,” he’d mutter. Me? I’m just fuckin’ proud they stick it to the man! Billionaires should not exist—whores should! Period!

2. Sonagachi, Kolkata

I love our city parks. There's Jackson Park, a small green gem. I used to counsel people on its benches. The whispering winds in the trees, they bring a sorta comfort. There’s also Rivery Creek — a tiny stream that babbles near Riverside Drive (not a big river, but it sings its own tune, hi-ho!). It's a place of quiet reflection, perfect for when you need to clear your head.

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