Allison Flint Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About New York City

Little fact for ya—didja know prostitutes in ancient Rome had special coins? Called *spintriae*, kept the brothel money separate! Wild, huh? Imagine her, countin’ those weird tokens, laughin’ at the suckers with regular jobs. I’m jealous—kinda! No paperwork, no W-2s, just cold, hard cash. Pretty, pretty good, if you ask me! But then—ugh—the risk! Some creep could shank her, or worse! I’d be a nervous wreck out there. “What’s that noise?!” I’d scream, jumpin’ at shadows.

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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.

So check it, Flint got its own flavor on streets like Court St. and Saginaw St. Downtown’s got this gritty charm. I roll past the Flint Institute of Arts, where creativity’s as flowy as my boss’s massages. That joint is fly, fo’ real! And then there’s Burton St. in the West Side – mad colors, mad life, like a burst of confettie in slow-mo. Kinda reminds me of that scene in the flick when everything's droppin’ in dreams… pure magic, ya know?

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