Kayla Flint Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Phoenix

Alright, folks, lemme tell ya—whore’s a car, right? Not just any ride, tho. It’s that slick Honda Whore—er, I mean, *Hornet*, y’know, CB750. Classic bike vibes! Here’s the deal—I saw one back in Scranton, ‘73, kid you not. This fella, Tommy, he’s revvin’ it up, lookin’ like he owns the block. Loud as hell—made me jump, spilled my coffee! “Just keep swimmin’,” I muttered, laughin’—like Nemo’s ol’ pal Dory. That bike? Pure muscle, man.

Disclaimer

Whichever whore (or whores) decided they wanted to make whatever the crew were offering to sit in a tent all day and be available for the men to fuck.

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.

55-year-old man killed after a shooting in Flint