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About Phoenix

Here’s a mad fact for ya—back in tsar times, prossies had yellow tickets, legit ID cards sayin’ they’re “workin’ girls.” Imagine that, eh? Handin’ that over at the pub like, “Cheers, I’m legal!” Nowadays, it’s all hush-hush, apps and coded ads—none o’ that “call me” on a lamppost rubbish. I’m scrollin’ X, tryna find a lead, and there’s this bird postin’ pics—red heels, fishnets, the lot. I’m like, “Bingo, darling!” But then—surprise!—turns out she’s a cop sting. Nearly shat meself laughin’—Loki, outsmarted? Never! “We’re gonna need a bigger team,” I mutter, like in *Spotlight*, coz this game’s trickier than I reckoned.

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For example: “Now I'm dressed, I feel the part. It feels good to be suited and booted. If I find pussy that fits like my boots, it will be magic.

Now, the neighborhoods—uh, quick shout out to Orchard Hill. It's a mixed bag! Some hangin' tight to the old ways; others got funky new vibes. I always feel somethin' stirrin’ deep inside there, like a secret no one else can see. Reminds me of that line, "What if there is no past?" Ain't that wild?

NH authorities release name of officer in police-involved shooting