Post by vurbur on Jan 9, 2012 16:10:59 GMT -5
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,10,true][atrb=style, background-color: #131313;,true][cs=2] VIVIENNE EMILY BRADLEY  | |
| [atrb=width,200] nickname Vivi birthday 01/05/1990 place of birth Newark, New Jersey gender Female | [atrb=width,200] sexuality bisexual nationality American – she doesn’t know what else membergroup transplant play by taylor momsen |
| [cs=2] likes: singing, dancing, ecstasy, cocaine, alcohol, early morning sex, hazelnut coffee, 3pm naps, nachos, hot dogs, blooming onions, tattoos, concerts. dislikes: violence, guns, bruises, doctor offices, abortions, feeling guilty, responsibility, sleeping at the shelters, rain, school, feeling of hunger, television. personality: spitfire. Witty. Hopeless. Reckless. Stubborn. Prideful. Arrogant, regretful. Depressed. Headstrong, cunning. Seductive, capable. family: Mama gave me up to foster car and Daddy never existed. I was put into the foster care system and shuffled from house to house. When I was 5 a woman name Candolyn Bradley took a liking to me and adopted me into her house with her husband Matthew. They kept adopting kids, Mark, Jamie, Morgan, Louis… That’s my family, a bunch of unwanted kids with our parents who adopted us. history: you’ve heard about how my story started before, probably on that one channel “lifetime movie network.” I was that baby the crack-addict mama laid on a black plastic trash bag, left to wail my little lungs out until someone found me. Could of died, but I didn’t. Foster care was how my early years were spent, house-hopping – new faces, new families, new smells. I was so little, I shouldn’t remember any of it, but I do. It was because I was a crack baby, no one wanted. No one wanted anything to do with any kid scooped out of the ghetto. My mother was probably white trash and I show her honor today – I’m the same way now. I didn’t use to be because at five I was adopted by a family from upper class Jersey, you know the families like they show on the real housewives or whatever. My new dad worked as a civil engineer and my mother owned and ran a hair salon. Obviously, they couldn’t have kids or else they would have adopted me, or mark, Jamie, morgan, or Louis. They were friends with the giancolas and it’s how I met johnny. We were best friends, I told him all my silly stories I made up, ballet that candy signed me up for, I sang to him, played guitar and piano for him – we were best friends. It wasn’t supposed to be anything more and I didn’t notice it when it was starting to become something. Before I knew it he was attached and I didn’t want him as much as I wanted heroin and other things to make life fly by. We had sex, my biggest mistake because it made the break up so much worse. I left to the west coast and eventually got a job as a burlesque dancer after i paid some woman to pee into a condom for me. I don’t regret doing that, because now I dance for a living and that’s what keeps my fire burning. verdoux – eighteen – 6/7 years? |
