Fleur de Mal, Femme Fatale

Pledging allegiance to jazz, sex, and food in San Francisco, she is all things cool.

And riding high the great white bus, cruising like a dolphin down Van Ness, she's not just a goddess from a mountain with a view; she's all things awesome.

"Don't they," she asked, "those small fry in the street, see I'm out to change the world?"

With streak in her hair and rude tattoo—Get a hard on, dude!—she is some hot babe, the queen of innovation too.

She is hot in bed and hot out. With only her thumb she can make a guy cum, but I won't tell how.

With brain aflame and bottom burning, she'll leave you fried, fishified. Row yourself home, roeless Romeo.

Does she like crackin' code or breakin' hearts better? Crack some code, break a heart, crack some code, break a heart ... She is the latest release of Warrior Woman II.

Une deux, une deux trois

She's the Millennial babe of madness, sex, sadness, and the cool tattoo, woo-hoo.

She's the woman, not quite human, looking for trouble in the bubble world of digital disaster.

She's on the stage of her own web page, parsing a farce of Fleur de Mal, Femme Fatale; it's rage in the age of "ye ye ye ye ye, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah."

Une deux, une deux trois

By Louis Martin