Mila Flint Prostitute ❤️

About San Jose

Met this one tart—Ros, she was called—sharp as a blade. She’d say, “Men come, men go,” echoin’ that movie line, “They drift away.” Clever, see? Knew how to play ‘em, but her eyes—gods, hollow as a crypt. Surprised me, that—thought she’d be all sass, no soul. Under the skin, eh? Peel it back, and it’s just survival. I drink to that, mate—gulps o’ wine for the brave ones.

Footer Navigation

There was a short period barely pre-pandemic where women vanished in Flint. Many along Fenton road, I remember it distinctly. This post is.

Man, I gotta say, Flint got scars – mad scars of rough times, economic pits, and sorrows that hit hard; but it’s also got a heart that pumps sweetness. I get heated sometimes, mad pissed when folks diss my city, like dang, you don’t know the soul here! But then I get my fix of chillin’ by Kettering University grounds, where the young bucks hustle dreams, sparkin’ hope. Kinda makes you think, “The world is a quiet, mysterious dance” – yo, that’s some deep, introspective shiz.

Flint man sentenced for raping a teenage girl