I’ve got back-ache, i HATE my bed. Seriously! When i walk it hurts, it’s really hard to be a sex kitten when you have to screw your face up like you’re sucking on a lemon, whenever you take a strut forward. Plus, the postman didn’t pity me. Royal Mail, needs to have a heart! He left me some red card that apologised for me being out, (even though i was in) and now i am to trek all the way to the next town to pick up my ‘special delivery.’ Queen Liz, needs to get her ‘bitches’ sorted!! I wonder what it is?? I’m soooo excited. Yet, i shouldn’t be as the only box thats marked is the one that reads,’ A signature is required,’ so obviously that could be anything!! I’m probably getting sued, divorced, or shit…hopefully it’s something WONDERFUL!! I love surprise packages. Which is bizarre as i do hate surprises?? There’s nothing fun about me NOT knowing something! I think i just like gifts bought for me, by others. I don’t know why i’m getting so excited, as it could be something really boring like a contract. Wait! That’s not boring?? It’s keeping me able to support my high heeled, children and away from having to sell my body (erm…wait?…lol…) other than that our letterbox was flooded with multi-coloured rainbow enevelopes, at least 104 of them…(exaggeration, yes…but doesn’t it sound better,) all of them addressed to my poor daddy, who’s on his way to ‘almost dynamic, just realised he’s not 18’ self. Thankyou soooooooo much for them all. Brought a smile to my face and definitely will to his!!
So Rudes calls me last night to try and ‘talk over’ our differences. I’m like, ‘So NOW he wants to talk!!’ I’m spending so much time, not forgiving him, that i could probably have forgiven him in that time. Yet i’m stubborn, and will not let some boy treat me any other way but ‘princess-like.’ He always tries to threaten me, with ‘hanging up’ if i start playing up. I’m not 5!! I’m 27 and SMOKING HOT!! So i (like i’m a 5year old) just think fuck it and hang up first. I always have tumulous relationships with boys that temporarily fill the position of ‘other half.’ He says, ‘everythings got to be on YOUR terms, and YOUR time…’ i say…’well…yeah!’ Then he always follows it up with a ‘ It’s always about YOU!!’ Well ofcourse it bloody is!! It’s my life, and if he wants to join in my adventures, than he can, but do so effectively and don’t just be a lead weight that i constantly trip over. I’m ambitious, driven and a whole lot of fun, and if he doesn’t like it, then he can go find little Miss. Pollyanna poo pants, who washes his crusty boxers all day and slaves over his 17 children or whatever?? Bottom line…Me no likey! The only boxers i’m washing are those dripping in sweat after fighting 12 rounds!!