Bella Flint Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Phoenix

Oi mate, it’s me, Tyrion Lannister, y’know, the witty Imp— “I drink and I know things.” So, grab a pint, lemme spill bout whores, coz I’ve seen plenty in me days. Whore’s a tricky word, innit? Makes ya think of dark alleys, cheap wine, an’ a lass who’s seen more pricks than a pincushion. Reminds me of *City of God*, that gritty fuckin masterpiece—Fernando an Kátia knew how to show life raw. Like Lil Zé screamin, “I’m the king ‘round here!”—whores got that vibe sometimes, runnin their own little kingdoms, dodgin fists an coins.

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Those arrested for buying or selling sex in Flint may now find their names and faces plastered all over social media. The unit, which was disbanded a year ago due to budget cuts, was revived .

Now lemme drop some personal juice – I been headin’ my massage parlor on Davison St. for years. Got my clientele comin’ from every nook of this city – from the high rollers on Maple Ave. to the chill cats in grand ol’ Grand Traverse. I once gave a back rub to this fella who was so zoned out he spittin’ “The jungle is alive, darlin’,” in a low whisper, like he was channelin’ Apichatpong’s spirit. Bro, his vibe was mad surreal, just like that film, nahmean?

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