Gianna Flint Brothel ❤️

About Houston

Me, Joey Tribbiani, I’d stroll in, “How you doin’?” Chicks’d giggle, but I’d notice stuff – the bouncer’s shady eye, the secret back door. Always a back door, man! Ever hear bout the Wild West ones? Saloons with upstairs “rooms” – cowboys stumblin’ up, drunk as hell. One time, this madam, Big Nose Kate, she ran a joint, punched a guy out cold. Badass! I’m shocked, like, “Whoa, lady’s got guts!”

prostitution

Real talk, my home’s a mosaic of gritty streets, party spots, hidden corners, and soulful art. Every block got a story, every massage tells a tale. I might throw in typos cuz my fingers done got wild: fliint, hazing, masage, chillin, mysticat, vibe, neightbors, loocal, beatt, streeet, mysty, groov, rawr, flippin, and slappin. That’s just how I roll when I’m in the zone, know what I’m sayin’?

Gay LaRee Thompson Flint Obituary November 3, 2024