Rebecca Flint Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About San Jose

Sometimes I think she’s messin’ with me, like when Boonmee’s kid turns into a hairy ghost – “What am I lookin’ at here?!” She’ll vanish for days, then pop back, all “Miss me, fatass?” Sarcasm’s her game, but I’m like, yeah, I kinda did, ya nut. She’s a trainwreck, but I can’t look away – makes me wonder if I’m the dope here.

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Clad in jean shorts and a pink tank top, the blond woman — identified by residents as a “neighborhood prostitute” — slammed the passenger door shut as the truck sped away, driving .

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’?

Storytelling and book signing to be held at Gloria Coles Flint Public Library