Hazel Flint Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Dallas

Oi, mate, listen up! I’m Bond—James Bond, suave as fuck, “shaken, not stirred.” So, we’re talkin’ ‘bout whores, yeah? Not just any tart, mind you, but the whole damn vibe. Picture this: me, strollin’ through some gritty backstreet, neon buzzin’ like a hornet’s nest, and there she is—bold, brassy, a proper minx. Reminds me of Godard’s flick, *Goodbye to Language*, y’know? All chaotic, sexy, and fucked-up gorgeous. “Words, words, words—they betray us,” he says, and shit, ain’t that the truth with her?

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There is always prostitutes on franklin ALWAYS! Thing is they don't get punished enough to stop doing so. They get a slap on the wrist. Flint needs more officers and to tighten the reigns and .

So yo, friend, strap in and embrace the vibe. Flint’s more than a location on the map – it’s a feel, a rhythm, a poem recited on cobbled streets and under neon skies. Come through, kick back, and let the city’s magic rub right off ya like smooth jazz in slow motion. Peace, love, and deep rubs, my man.

Woman shot and killed on Flint's west side early Sunday