Whoring it daaan saaff

Okay, so checked into The May Fair. Love the hotel, even though my room was so ‘New York Business man, who hires hookers,’ but fuck it, it was great…they gave me free champagne. It’s truely becoming the way to my heart. I get really slaggy as soon as  ‘the bubbles,’ hit my lips. (Delicious.) Whenever i’m, at The May Fair, it’s half tremoudously brilliant (Even though i saw Peaches Geldof being a complete bitch of a whore to everyone in her eyeline, whilst i was checking in and the last time i was there, it was taking me a rather long time to figure out how to use a tap ) and half scarily bizarro. We filmed a lot of the ‘Paris Show’ there. So everytime i strutt into the elevator, or i’m sitting around twiddling my deligthful little thumbs… i always think i’m about to get ‘fucked’ with…and not the good kind. (She winks) It’s like always feeling you’re about to get ‘Punked,’ Eliminated or attacked by horny midgets with party poppers.

Right away all i remember is getting drunky. I invited a ‘Hughff’ to my room ( Who i adore because he always politely suggests a good old arse licking -and i do mean the dirty ‘tongue in crack’ kind…Plus, i like the fact that he can throw things incredibly far.  It turns me on. He looked like her was up for a bit of ‘Love you longtime.’  So 10 points all around.) Then half a bottle later… i was blessed with my hot little bitch Samuel, who banged on my door, mid me dancing around to Girls Aloud, like he was ‘Fagness Deyn’ and for some reason we got through a bottle of champagne, 3 bottles of cider from Sainsbury’s and a bottle of vino. We celebrated all the class levels of boozedom and fucking quickly. I felt trollied, in my rainbow coloured horizontal sequins (Yeah bitches. If u can work the  horizontal sequins, you can work anything baby!!) I can always tell when i’ve slipped into a bit of a whoopdee, as I start tipping the ‘room service’ guys lots for doing not very much. Yet don’t fret, as the boys decided to drunk yell at me and therfore raped him….of his tip. (‘Don’t facking give him that, you bitch!!’) I was trashed and the night hadn’t even begun. These nights always end quite GREATLY or truely appaulingly!!

Stopped off at Vendome for a bit of winky wink..all i remember is neon, too much Grey goose, a lesbian who had just broken up with her girlfriend and was trying to feel me up, smiling and waving at fans of the show, a bundle of girls at our table, Gina with massive boobs,  Me yelling at Gina with Massive boobs, then spraying Sammie and Hughff y(‘the boys’) with my Gwen Stefani perfume, endlessly..whilst rapping the rap part of her ‘Rich girl’ song. (‘Come together all over the world, from the hoods of japan..blah,blah…‘ you get it.) Then before you know it Gina was shuffling us up and off to the next stop…..’No.5’ (where some stuck up evil bitch in a red beret wouldn’t let us in at first, until she talked to her boss, who fucking gave us the ultimate ‘yes.’)

Loved it there! Can’t really remember much apart from lots of people taking pictures, lots of vodka, lots of ‘doing a little dance/making a little love,’ lots of not knowing there was a whole part of the club that i didn’t get to see, lots of show fans, lots of cigarette breaks (i’m a social smoker..i know, it’s tragic) and oh yeah, i fucking got told off for standing on the chairs and dancing!! Apparently i can only do that for hours without them noticing and then when they do, my option is too dance on the back stand or take my fucking heels off!! (hahaha) I opted for just slug down more Grey goose and wiggle around like a desperately divine  floozey IN my heels! (I won these bitches goddamit!!)

By this point Hughff, Sammie and I we’re TROLLIED but didn’t realise how much. You know when u get soo drunk, but theres a tremendous amount of fuss occurring around you that ur sort of being whisked around on a magic carpet of ‘buzzness.’ Great music, good times, great people looking after us! Lots of me kissing. Air kissing, proper kissing, arse kissing…all the kissing you could imagine from a slanted eye sexy symbol. Then and by now it’s like 2am…we get rushed off, and taxied to the next venue…’Opal.’ All i remember is shouting ‘Where the fuck am I, Goddamit! It’s 4 am and i’m facking TIRED!!!!’ Hilariously Loser.

I was terribly KNACKERED. So even though i had a pretty decent time, i really can’t remember anything but pictures, needing water, feelin glike if i drank anymore i would possibly puke, yelling a lot, talking to a woman who sells plums for a living, talking about dry humping Sam, telling a mother of 600 kids that she had the hottest body i had ever seen for…well a mother of 600 and then turning on her and telling her to ‘Fuck off because she was too hot (hahahaha) and standing too near me. I’M on the FACKING telly you bitches!!! (hahaha) Great times had by all and was with a boy who claims to ‘loves drunk Wunna.’ (But only cos booze makes me pout, and when i put, my lips want to smooch.) Lots of girls watched the show, lots of boys pretended that their girlfriends made them watch the show. Y’know Lots more people just stand around and stare at me now, rather than dare to come up to talk to me…which i don’t like. I prefer the ones that converse and worship!!! (hahah…tragic much?). On the train to the Capital, i signed an autograph for a 7 year old boy, dressed as Bob Marley, who loved my boobs on the Paris Hilton show. His mum made him do a tap dance for me, on the train. Loved it!! He then started humping a pole for me. Kicks all around.

Where was i?? Well who really cares about the rest of the story. Taxied back to the May fair, it was like 5am, got naked spooned and all that good stuff. Talked about love, live and drunkness in general. The rest is just, hungoverdom, dirty sloppy blow jobs in mirrors, showers, sex scenes, thrusting, chocolate milk and football really? (She winks and tells you The Bitch is BACK!!) I then passed out to the Dancing on Ice skate off, after an minor arguement with a male outside the hotel, with an irish homeless man insisting on giving me love life advice. (He did an okay job for a man who’s wife ran off with his best mate.)Woke up the next morning and trundled back up North at the speed of fucking light. Had a cabbie who said, i looked like the kinda gal that ‘You’d have to get up pretty early to get one over on.’ Not really. I can’t flipping fuction in the daylight anymore. I’m all sunglasses and diva moans. (Screams ‘Has Been.’) All you’d have to do is beable to get up before 10am and i’d prolly let you get one over…winky wink purrr.. Love it! love you!

Chrissie Wunna (It’s ALL about ME!)

10 thoughts on “Whoring it daaan saaff

  1. is that it! i wait to hear all your jubbliness from over the weekend and just get a photo, no chrissie, it doesn’t work like that, knuckle down and blimmin write something!!! bitch!!!!

  2. Where u saaf of de river down saaf landan then chrissie lol u look ching treacle I hope u had a proper fanny arbulle treacle takecare chrissie tada scratch

  3. U are talking all cockney know chrissie love it if u wanna learn more babe let us know I can teach u loads babe. U make me crack up sounds like u got bang ok the hit and miss babe u love your shampoo if u get a chance go warehouse or house and terrace next time u are in the ldn treacle

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