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About Jahra

Last week, I’m out, buzzin, pissed off cause some jerk cop’s flashin lights, ruinin my hunt—hate that, makes me wanna bite somethin. Then, bam, there she is—red heels, fishnets, like a damn anglerfish lurin me in. “How much?” I ask, all smooth, voice like silk over a blade. She smirks, “More than you got, fancy pants.” Cheeky! Love that, got me laughin—happy as a shark in blood. “I’m not a child,” she snaps, straight outta “Ten,” that sass, that fire—surprised me, gotta say, didn’t expect a street gal to hit me with philosophy.

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2 days ago · A new Phoenix internal report says a now-former Phoenix police officer saw a prostitute hours before her body was found in a suitcase in the desert in

Then, outta nowhere, this lady storms in. She’s fuming, like a kettle about to blow. Turns out, she just got into a fight with her boyfriend over by the Al-Fahaheel area. I mean, c’mon, who fights over where to eat? She orders a cocktail, and I whip up something fruity. She takes a sip and suddenly, she’s all smiles. It’s like magic! I’m thinkin’, “Maybe I should start a therapy service with drinks.”

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