As the sage Popeye once said, “I am what I am.”

My story is full of bits that I won’t share due to ‘accessory after the fact’ nonsense, so I’ll try and stick to the highlights. My name is Lisa, I grew up in the Ozarks. Growing up, my only friend was our dog since the neighbors were miles away. I was left to run wild until I was old enough for school. I hated school from the very first day of kindergarten till the day I threw my books in the trash and walked out at 17. Jobs were scarce and college was out. So I joined the army.

My father had taught me to shoot, hunt and fish so the army was easy. I served in the middle east for 6 years till a squabble with some Merryweather security contractors went wrong. Facing 3 counts of murder, I lawyered up and said I would go public. Merryweather already had several pending lawsuits for misconduct. The army gave me a general discharge and dumped me in Iraq. One of my platoon mates said he had a cousin in LS so I made my way there. Lamar picked me up at the airport and made a good impression by handing me a pistol as a welcoming gift. With my tomboy upbringing and years in the military, I am not one to do a lot of sweet talking to get my way. So stripping seemed like a bad move for me. I would rather steal than beg. And that is how I started down this road.

When I got here I saw just how dirty this place really was. The corruption, the greed and ridiculous hypocrisy. And I liked it. There is money for the taking here and even at first, it was a cake walk. But make a lot of noise and someone will notice. It wasn’t long before a simple ride to the auto repair was a 90mph gunfight. I am not an army of one and I knew it. Despite my loner tendencies, I knew I needed a crew. I would see, from time to time, all sorts of exotic sports cars screaming around town. When I actually saw somebody getting out of one, She was beautiful, like a model …with a gun. She killed several punks and few cops, waved to me and left. A quick hack of DMV told me who she was. I texted her and bang, I was in Pussi Riot.

I like certainties. Things you can be sure of. The vagaries of morals and concepts like right & wrong are absurd. A coyote doesn’t think it’s wrong to eat a deer. They just do it. Pussi Riot is the family that has my back and let’s me be what I am. So if you see me and all I do is awkwardly wave, sorry, it’s the best I can do. But know that I love each and every one of you.

My military career was ruined by some a-holes, nothing can change that. Will it make me feel better to destroy their facilities and kill their personnel? I intend to find out.

  • From: Ozarks. That’s close enough
  • Born: Birthdays are for children, I buy my own presents
  • Current location: Behind you with a knife
  • Relationship status: In a love triangle with my rifle and my car
  • Sex: Whatcha got? I’m down, just don’t talk a lot
  • Religion: I don’t know, but certainly not one that considers me property

Meeting KimBianca

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I’m KimBianca, you can call me Kim, Bianca, KB, Trigger (for the mixtapes I pop off like mad- more on that in the music section), or Pitbull (not as in the musician, but as in the animal who gets misunderstood and mislabeled as a vicious monster but is really an extremely loyal, big bundle of love).

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Recklesss…

Those days are still etched into my mind.  A dangerous, emotionless, reckless racer owned the aptly named “Drag Kings” section of the city.

The previous corner, someone had stopped yet again, and had set up shop, getting ready to shoot down the driver finishing yet another lap.  The driver could have (and on many occasions did), clip the shooter with an uzi, but with second and third place closing in, the driver dropped a grenade out of the window, rounding the bend.  The shooter had no idea they were running into an explosive.  As the first grenade went off, blowing the shooter back into the gas station, the driver had already pulled the pin on a second grenade and held it, as second place also pulled their gun and began to fire upon the driver. Continue reading

R o s e, a bold soul that loves chaos

Terminal

A bold soul that loves chaos, silent as she is, gets the job done with a word said behind. riot is her background, execution is her key.

The quote ‘who ever laughs last, laughs better’ is her stronghold. Although only acts as a mime, that won’t stop her to hesitate on eliminating whoever crosses the goal aiming for. One thing is for certain, she loves too much to let anyone die for her, better a rose than a thorn rot down in a desert cup. Continue reading

Bom dia Los Santos!

How did I get to here from there? Shortly after the departure from the French Military, centered in & around Northern Africa. I was well..out of work and needed a place to start over & get back on my feet.

Lamar Davis in Los Santos was kind enough to have a car repo job waiting for me after finding my way there. Gratitude for that, despite immediately using the pistol he gave me to suggest keeping things strictly professional.

From there I quickly found a new desert war zone to be a major player in, and have gotten into the good graces of Martin Madrazo and his Mexican business associates, superhacker Lester Crest, and Air Force Para Jumper turned psycho meth dealer & addict Trevor Philips. Which is almost enough to put the idea of old enemies half a world away trying to make life difficult in Los Santos/Blaine County, or a black mask death squad to rest, should this new line of work rub them the wrong way. Continue reading

Clever title about Roses and Thorns

My new apartment and six car garage. From left to right: My Daddy’s old Sabre Turbo, with an actual Turbo. Repainted, but rest is all the work we did before he passed. My Elegy RH8, still a work in progress. And my Bravado Buffalo S. Also, barely visible, is my Bati 808.

  • Name: Farlina Rosethorn
  • Date of birth: September 24th, 1990
  • Age: 24
  • Relationship status: Single
  • Sex: In your dreams. Leave your wallet before you wake up.
  • Interests: Guns, American Cars, Motorcycles, Racing.
  • Religious views: Sex. Drugs. God. Cash. Sex. Drugs. God. America.
  • Political views: Sex. Drugs. God. Cash. Sex. Drugs. God. America.

So, you saw my sarcastically titled post and figured “Huh, might be worth a glance.” Well, you just stumbled upon some posting by some drunken red-haired half Irish psycho from Southern Louisiana, now living in Los Santos. Now grab me a Pißwasser and sit down.

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