My Way or the Highway

Morning my pretty pumpkins of parlour. Welcome to Wunnaland. I’m armed with a cuppa tea, so be warned i’m sober. When i’m sober, i’m viscious. I need a morning mimosa to get the sweet, sweet, kitty in me a going. *Looks and mirror image. Pouts*

Anyway, if you haven’t read my previous blog, you should and simply to understand what i’m about to ramble on about. I’m feeling much much better this morning, delicious, happy, full and a lot less hormonally imbalanced. I talked to Loverboy last night and we made the executive decision to love each other deeply…regardless. (I mean he went to work yesterday in bits & pieces, ready to cry and hand in his notice, because it was apprently ruining his social life. Cute right. He’s all drama queen like i am. We rock…. it’s bad innit. Obviously, i didn’t enjoy making a human being feel this way….i mean, if he doesn’t work, how is he going to buy me diamonds or dinners? Luckily, he man marched it off…got over it, got on with it, then i called him and made it ALL better. Yay for me! I think we just need a full day and night with each other. We’re doing that today.

decided to pretend that all the bad behaviour (beautifully performed by the little Glamour puss, might i add…heelllo BAFTA) didn’t even happen. Yes! The Ignorance is bliss approach will be my trusted weapon and it will sail me through all kinds of nonsense..and i will commit to it like…vodka! Woohoo! Meiow! My Mother claims that my logic is enjoyable. If anyone else does anything wrong, then there’s hell to play with. But if i do anything wrong, it is to be completely and utterly ignored. 🙂 I spent a lot of my teenage years shouting at my mums face. We laughed about that this morning. I love a good laugh-a doo-dee at my expense. I really actually do. All the tantrum stunts that i’ve pulled have just been genius! I’ve been terrible.

Infact, now Mum can almost do a killer impression of half of them. I mean, I had a driving instructor that i argued with every fricking lesson, because i despised him and his ‘tell me what to do’ ways. I was never a good driver and well if i’m not amazing at something, then i will HATE it and HATE it’s messenger. I just remember yelling at my mother and out right refusing to get in the car with him…i might have even called him a ‘repulsive slob of a human being.’ (HAHAH.) Now, i was a clever girl growing up, a smart one, so there was no reason why i wouldn’t beable to do all this driving marlarky. But i couldn’t..and because i knew i HAD to! Therefore the Great Wunna before me lovingly calms me by saying, ‘Chrissie!! I WILL THROW YOU OUT OF THI

The Queen of F****** Up

Well heeellllo, my little dew like droplets of delight. I’ve accidentally slept through the whole of my Bank Holiday plans due to exhaustion. I mean it’s hard being a Glamour Puss. All the pouting, winking and beating off handsomes with big sticks of ‘umph,’ can actually be more tiring that you think. Add heels to that merry equation, and not only do you end up with killer thighs, (that we don’t actually want to take too far. I mean man thighs on girls, aren’t often labelled as ‘Dainty’)… but you will also end up walking  to your boudior, placing your phone on charge and ACCIDENTALLY falling asleep for four hours straight, fully eyelashed, boobied and clothed. The fact that i don’t mind the missing of plans, ( i’m a kitty cat who prefers to be out and about, smearing shimmie’s and inappropriateness in any town that will have me,) means i must have needed a night off the ‘razzamatazz.’ I’ve been out every night during the last 2 week period. Dinner, drinks, handsomes, heels, and happiness. When the thought of having to eat one more dinner, or have one more bottle of wine, makes you feel as though you’re going to need to take a nap, in order to soldier your way through it…a break is in order. I’ve been far too social. I need a PJ night. Oh and just so you know, i’m not a napper. I find it lazy. I’m a human dynamo. When i say ‘nap,’ i usually just mean i strike a pose, hold still for 5 minutes and *fan myself.* The breeze acts as my moment of ‘rest.‘ However today, i actually did the ‘close eye’ kinda nap… for four whole hours and in my heels. (Yes, i have heels to nap in.) It completely confused my body, as it’s only used to performing such an act, with vomit surrounding it and with *heartbreak* lipsticked upon my every inch . I actually slept and didn’t even *pass out*through drunkardness. Eww much. What have i become!!!

Anyway, enough of the mindless chitter chatter. Today, i went to the parents of ‘Loverboy’ and did

Total Wife Material

OMG this is how champion a girlfriend i am. ‘Loverboy’ calls me at 1.30am last night. (Well I called him. Great, i’m already lying and it’s not even night time.) Anyway, yeah i call him for a bit of ‘i love you, sleep tight’ chitter chatter, like ya do. I mean, i do love him and yeah i’d much prefer him to sleep tightly, as opposed to loosely, as ofcourse that could be messy. I’m a Glamour puss that enjoys precision nowadays. Messy Wunna died in 2005. (Of herpes.) *Checks crotch.* As if!! I don’t get herpes. Herpes and the rest of it’s itchy clan, are TERRIFIED of me.

Fuck, i keep getting distracted and rambling on about my privates! (Classy!)

Frisky, Flirty & Fabulous

Hello, my delicious dips of fabulosity much, I’ve just got back from watching IP seats were fully booked up and until MONDAY! Ugh…long much. Yet you know me…i’m not bothered. I’ll muck in. *Pout*I’m currently feeling flirty, frisky and a whole lot of funnage.

I got distracted didn’t i? Anyway…yeah…back to rambling…I’m also the kinda girl who avoids going to the cinema…i haven’t been in ages. Not because i don’t like it, but secretly because it reminds me of my ex-hubby. I don’t know why it does? (Apart from the fact that a great deal of our marriage was spent watching movies and well he is an actor.) Once i’m in the movie theatre and the lights go down…i begin *flashbacking* and yeah…this evening was NO exception. I thought about him some of the way through it. Not good thought, not bad thought…just still thought. A lot of the movie reminded me of my past. Yep…now, i know why i don’t like to go to the cinema. Woohoo! Lol. I started to fill up all inapropriately and make a prize twat of myself. However luckily the film would throw me a *funny bit*and the teary fill up, immediately turned into laughter…and we all know we LOVE my laugh! 🙂 I’ve cried twice today. This morning, i laid in my bed in my pyjamas and my mum laid in my bed with me..in her pj’s. We had one of those Mother/daughter talks, where i discuss how i feel about things. It was one of those ‘we really love each other’ moments. I’m a lucky girl. I have a wonderful bringer upper. My mum looks at Me like i’m the champion of the world. (And i am…but drunk and a bit of a slag.)

Anyway to make the evening more comedy…most people saunter out the cinema a little bit ‘oooh,’ a little bit ‘aah,’ a little bit worn or a little bit excited. Most need a wee, most are doing their hair, and the rest are looking for the people that they came in with. I totter out screen 8…not being able to walk properly due to drunkardness. (I had been drinking in the day over mexican food.) I wiggle toward a wall, realize i had accidentally had my phone turned on the WHOLE way through the movie, and didn’t know…looked at my Black Berry screen and i had a voicemail awaiting me.

I get terrified of voicemails, not leaving them…but hearing them. I get a lot of them, due to the fact that i seem to not beable to find my phone in time when it rings. *Rummages in clutch.*Anyway, yeah most people will get a ‘hey it’s [enter friends name here]..i’ll give you a call later.’ I got DJ TALENT, singing me his DJ talent song merrily and saying he just wanted to say ‘hi’ because he hasn’t caught up with me in ages. He ended it with shouting ‘Byyyeee from DDDDDDddddddddd JJJJJJJJJ Taaaaaaalent!’ Then i got Ben and Jerry’s, tried to shake off my hangover, got home, got showered and listened to BBm voice notes from Jonny. Oh and i don’t like boys that name my vagina ‘Cookie.’ Like i tweeted earlier…surely ‘Bitch’ will suffice. It gobbles up humans with ATTITUDE. ‘Cookie’ ain’t gonna cut it. (Mmmkaaay!)

This afternoon, when it was raining all around me, Loverboy (aww we love Loverboy) came to pick me up in his new car to take me to lunch. We opted for a Mexican, and a couple cheeky drinky poos. I got drunk. I even felt it. (‘Felt it’ was in the booze and not as in tickled his ‘churro’…that came later. 😉 ) I ordered the steak fajita, with tequila cocktails and he ordered this crap duck wrap thing that he spat out into a yellow napkin, after every chew. He didn’t like it at all…but tried to pretend it was alright. I’m the exact opposite, if i don’t like it EVERYONE will know. (‘I hate this fucking shit!!!’ Wiggle-Wink. Aren’t’ i lovely! 🙂 ) When i’m a bit tipsy, i do Mexican quite well. I’m like fluent spanish after tequila. Yes, i know right. I even amaze myself.

We were alright today. Having fun, being normal. But i’ve decided to step up my game. Pete’s great..he loves me. He wants me. He’s good to me. I love him. I’m good to him. I want him. Yet sometimes you have to make sure a boy keeps on his toes.  I mean…you don’t want them to get too *comfy wumfy*…because that’s when they begin the process of  ‘slacking.’ He hasn’t begun his yet…but i’m stepping up my game anyway…as a safety guard. I like to get treated like a Princess. I treat myself like one…therefore i want to make sure a boy will FOREVER and not just in the merry beginning. 

Currently i’m feeling all powerful and sexy. I’m all confident, full of life, dashed with ‘ooh laa’ and armed with a pretty popularity. I loving it, in every way possible. But why wouldn’t i! Being the Ultimate Glamour Puss is marvelous. I’m making a baby name for myself, my reputation will never ever let me down, (yes it’s soiled and yes it’s GREAT! I mean it’s funny how you can commit to doing, all this inappropriate naughty deliciousness…yet if you sprinkle it all with glitter, a wink AND a killer outfit…oh and maybe tits…you become a LEGEND worth worshipping! I FUCKING LOVE IT!!!) Gimme! Gimme! Got it! MUCH!!!

We had a great day…i got really drunk. I hated the rain and pointed at a gypo, who was wearing a hot little pink lingerie number in the down pour. I told her i thought she was hot…and she shyly thanked me. Got i must have been wasted! We made out in the restuarant. We do, all the time. Then he drove me back home, after feeling up my lady parts with his man hands, during a kissy kissy. Oh Dollies, we were pissing ourselves at how ridiculous we must have looked, sat in the car, in a big family parking lot…snogging and fondling. In the end we couldn’t even kiss for laughing. He kissed me with his eyes open. *Tut tut.* But OMG, on the way home we sang and danced over joyously to ‘Lets get ready to rumble’ by Ant & Dec! Our car was popping man! HAHA. We did actually love it. Hilarious!

Now, i think about it…it must be hard for Pete, dating me. But to be honest, he is getting ballsier…and at the same time, he thinks i could pass for black. 

I’ve godda go…i need a pain killer. Love you Kittens! LIVE IT!

 

Full of Korma

Just got back from Aagrah in Doncaster. Another family meal…but this time a bit boujier. I was meant to be wiggling my wangas in coconuts this evening with boys in hawaiian shirts, yet after a baby ‘kick off’ with Loverboy…(i was really grumpy earlier because my phone wasn’t working…i decided to blame him for my whole day going wrong. Yes thankyou! I WILL have my ‘Best girlfriend Ever’ trophy! I’ve noticed that i’m not keen on NOT getting  my own way. I’m a bratt of the spoilt sort. But you can blame my upbringing and the fact that i wasn’t breast fed. I was raised by a childminder and maybe a couple of drunks. Posh drunks though. I need to refrain from being stroppy. But i just don’t like things meandering away from perfection. It grinds on me uncomfortably…like a horny pensioner, who’s trying to be sexy!) Anyway, yeah..i ended up at Aagrah tonight, eating far too much out of politeness. They love me there, because the owners son wants a bit of the Glamour Puss and was a big fan of the show. We get free things and special treatment. I’ve now eaten so much, out of politeness, that i’ll probably have to die, in order to refrain from living the rest of my life with a weight problem.

Walked in…looked divine. I made quite a big effort, to say i was just hanging out with my folks. I got a lot of stares, due to boobies and over the topness. Immediately we were greeted and escorted to a table. I saw the parents of one of my old school friends, but when i made eye contact, i kinda did the ‘look away’ out of fear thing. They used to think i was a bad influence on their daughter. What they didn’t know was that i was quite the boarding school goodie goodie and she was bonking extremely undesirable gentlemen of ‘chavtastico’ in my Mums garage. Legs at quarter past nine and everything. I think she got accidentally drunk boned by everyone in the whole town. But it’s not too bad, i mean one of the guys did end up growing up to be a wife beater. (Everyone needs a hobby.) Luckily her folks didn’t see me…and it had nothing to do with the fact that i did resort to the fine act of ‘bobbing down’ under the table pretending to search for my NOT WORKING phone! 🙂 Then i saw a bundle of scattered perverts and a guy with NO EYE!! It had been CUT OUT! That’s enough to put anyone off their lamb korma. If it wasn’t for the ginormous gold and crystal chandelier distracting me and making me believe i was a Princess…i would’ve probably had to give him my eye! Brave man though! He rocked his good eye like a champion! Honourable!

Okay, the good thing about being an ‘off the telly’ Glamour Puss, aka Chrissie Wunna, is that not only do most men fancy you for no reason, but at an indian restuarant you get free things for your whole table.. between courses. The good thing about all this pokery, is the fact that YAY…it’s FREE! The rubbish thing about it is that you’re gonna get fat, feel fat, and not beable to pretend that you’re only 19 1/2.

We had a massive starter, wine, and then free mango lassis’s. Then we had our main course, wine and a free ginormous ‘looked like a knickerbocker glory’ Baileys smoothie thing. It was basically a pint of Baileys with whipped cream on top. This was followed up with more food, more free things, me getting told off by my Mother for being negative, a lovely big talk with the owners son, who insisted on telling us about all the money he had and the fact that he’s getting a ferrari, then a hand shake, a hand wipe, talk of Ronaldo, career banter, money, weight and then an ice-cream for my baby brother. Being a puss of glamour glamour can be exhausting. But i can’t complain. I wouldn’t have it any other way. *Kicks off her heels. Pulls down a stocking.*

Y’know, I have never really felt so chubby! I’ve got a 24 year old boyfriend! I’m 29! I need to NOT be stuffing my face to the point where i need to vomit out korma. I’m having to do can can kicks, in order to burn the calories off before bed. I’m already a hag, cleverly disguised as a floozey. If i continue eating in this fashion, i’ll probably just explode or poo my pants publically. I’d rather explode. I’ve only poo’d my pants once and that was when i was 18, in the bed of my boyfriend..after i got drunk. I can’t really remember doing it, but i did. The fact that i wasn’t even embarassed says it all really. I remember we once had a big quarrel and he locked me out of his house naked. (Haha.)I’m glad i graduated that part of life. Being 18 was ‘eww’ much for me. Luckily, i promptly moved to Hollywood…where my world, life and existance began! I made me a fairytale…and thank the lord for it! *Pass me my fur.*

There were some really hot waiters working tonight. I exchanged a few winks. I can, i’m a kitty. I quite enjoyed being a bit fancied. I wish i got more wine now. My Mother kept laughing at the fact that i had to keep drinking everyones booze, because they couldn’t handle their tipple and they didn’t want to look rude, due to it’s free-ness. Apparently she thought i’d be shimming out the joint, swinging my bra in the air gleefully. All that happened was a blank expression, a hair toss and a strut out. I swing my bra in the air gleefully out of humour, or because i’m getting paid to and never because i’m drunk. Booze won’t make me do that. All booze makes me do is make better decisions! (I hate drunk dialing. We all do it, and yep..we make prize twits of ourselves.)

Anyway, i’ve left now…and i’m at home, in my pyjamas, stroking Gucci (my kitten.) Tomorrow, i think i’m meant to be hanging out with Loverboy for the day? But i have no idea what’s happening? I guess i’m gonna have to apologize for being a cow to him soon. Great. That’ll be fun. On

Oh the journey..

Okay, i have a really weird relationship with taxi drivers. People enjoy to journey me places. I don’t know why…but they do. I’m getting a car and driving…and simply because if you actually think about it..it’s really bizarre sitting in the back of a car, behind a ‘being’ you don’t at all know, who tries to conversate with you about the world, then charges you for it.

I’ve just got back from being in Ponty town center. I’m hardly ever there, yet today i forgot that needed to troop off to the bank to transfer money before closing time. I get stared at a lot in Ponty, to the point of slight uncomfortability. Luckily, i’m an attention whore..therefore i’m quite well equipped to handle it all…and with a *pout.* (I looked great! I worked it.)

Got to the bank, did my do, then bought a dress at New Look, simply because i felt i had too. I love the store, but the one in Ponty is only tiny, therefore you have to be brave if your Chrissie Wunna, because you are an inch away from the starers. Just so you know, i don’t mind the stares at all…but i do prefer it when people actually talk to me. I’ll walk past an item and behind me i hear whispers of ‘What is she looking at? What is she gonna buy? Is that that girl from that…?’ I grabbed 5 dresses, that i thought were 50/50…and tottered into the fitting room for some, believe or not…space. The staff were great there though. I bought a dress, but only out of pressure. I sat down behind my fitting room curtain..(i’ve once given a blow job in a fitting room…not proud) and in nothing but my pink lace thong, and heels..i texted Pete and Harriet. Pete’s got his new car today or something….and Harriet says i’m rubbish when i’m in a relationship. 🙂

Anyway, long story short. Had to get a taxi home. I walked in…ordered it from Data Cars, and stood inside whilst i waited. My cab came, so i strutted towards it merrily and mildy tired from a day of *stares.* It was female taxi driver, mouthing the word ‘Badsworth‘ at me. Lovely, bubbly, large set, blond lady. Fun, cheeky, chatty. I get comfortable and arsey because my BlackBerry is refusing to work. I noticed that she was on her mobile, talking loudly, laughing, saying the word ‘commision’ a lot, and looking at me through her mirror.

As soon as she put the phone down…she asked me about my love life…told me that the owner of the company had seen me at the taxi rank, watched me get into the cab and now he wants to date me. My first words were ‘is he hot?‘ The answer i got was, ‘he owns the whole entire place, drives a Lexus, talks real nice and yeah he’s gorgeous. I wouldn’t mind laying under him for 30 minutes! He’ll treat you like a Princess and he wants your number. I KNEW he’d call me, as soon as i had you in my car. I just knew it. Don’t tell him though! He’s hot…i mean skinny, but hot! I’ve been told to get your number for him!’

I giggled, i laughed, i did the Glamour pussy shy thing. (I’m not AT ALL shy.) Then she reaches for her mobile and pretty much makes me talk to him. OMG..how bizarre, but funny. ONLY I could get into a situtaion like this. After the phone convo, and with a ‘here i’ll pass you back, because i feel a bit weird,’ i decided to change the subject and turn it onto how beautiful i thought her features were.

I mean, she was a fun, bubbly, larger woman…but had the most beatiful ‘dolly’ features. Piercing eyes, pouty lips, chubby cheeks. I loved her. Then she told me she was getting a makeover in Manchester, she had 8lbs taken off her boobs, she really wants her daughters to be models, her sex life is great, her friend is too dark to go blond and that she had a boob job, after getting them reduced, but her body ate her left one away, leaving her with just one boob.

By this time, we had arrived at my home..not far at all. Usually, at this time, there’s just an exchange of money. I like a quick exchange. However, today in Wunnaland, and after ‘Kay’ (that was her name…she gave me her number)..had shown me pictures of her daughters, with the same eyes, she turned around to face me, lifted her top up and pretty showed me her boobs….the one that got eaten away..nipple out and everything. HAHAHAH! WTF!!! I do i get trapped in these chapters! (I did think she was hilarious. I mean that lady has got some balls and is really confident. Parts of her reminded me of myself. Funny funny lady, but actually armed with a very sad story, perfectly covered up with smiles, laughter and a bit of ‘that’s life.‘ I mean she’s having to walk around with one boob implant! That can’t get you too many free dinners now can it. Then @Eddclay bbm’ed me…so i strutted off. He’s managed to finish all his exams! Heelllooo summer! Come to Mama.

Me and taxis just don’t mix. We’re like oil and water…but sexier. I don’t even know what to think? From now on i’m driving. Lord help me! (Thank God Ricki Lake has got hot men stripping on her show right now. I need a bit of a destress.)

Hoochie Coochie Cooo

You know you’re a proper tart when you can’t find your eyelashes, after tearing them off your pretty slanted eyes whilst being mid-drunky, the night before. I found them stuck to the bottom of a halogen heater. I’m not sure how we have one of those in our house? But i adore them now…i mean who knew a heating device would catch eyelashes for Glamour Pusses. I only found one to be honest. However, that doesn’t bother a floozey like me…OH NO NO…*wiggle*..all i have to do is *purr,* then strut to a drawer and VOILA eyelashes GALORE!!! Drawers filled with them…’wow wow wee waa.’ (There’s also a glow in the dark condom in one…which i find bizarre. Not the fact that i have a condom…I mean ‘yay’ to safe sex. In the words of Loverboy…’if we’re in a house..we’re safe.’ Yet more because, the logic thinks it’s okay to catergorize eyelashes with glow iin the dark condoms. D’ya get what i mean? Like you put the fruit by the other fruit. The coffee, by the tea. The…[can’t thing of anything else…hahah…i love that i’m being hailed a genius.] But bottom line…you get it! I’m insane and i put the eyelashes, by the glow in the dark condoms. (Why am i wishing i had real life  midgets, holding open every door in my house? I want them to each have their own personality, and when you walk past them, they top up your wine…and swear at you aggressively. ‘Oh fuck off you fat bitch. More wine?)

Anyway, i have a lovely weekend planned. It’s bank holiday again, i think? Is it? I don’t know…but it’s sunny and i’m fully groomed. *Wink-pout-hair toss.* I think i have daytime jiggery pokery to tend to with my other half, who’s handsome. I was meant to be going to the Counting Houses ‘Hawaii party party’ tonight, but i’m not sure i can make it, due to the lack of finding a coconut bra. (Oh i loved a tweet to me yesterday that said, ‘I didn’t even realize you wore bras? Don’t you just wear tassles?’) I’m living, i’m loving, i’m making life worthwhile. I’m adoring all of you, more that you would believe and mainly because you’re all dipped in deliciousness and are beginning to come around to the Wunna way. I love, love, happiness, fun, sexuality, fiestiness and fairytales. I want you to know and trust that dreams come true and with a little bit of confidence, and a whole lot of ‘oooh’ YOU CAN DO ANYTHING. (I know this because everything you’ve ever dreamed of doing, someone somewhere has done it! It is achievable.) I’m a little burmese girl..(a hot one…:) ) from Doncaster. WOOHOO! If i can fly off to Hollywood, become a model, marry a movie star, get on the telly…YOU CAN TOO. That’s my story. Make your story, the way you always wanted it to read. Plus, it’s summer which is *amaze* much, because you can totally do it, in a sequinned bikini, with a Malibu pineapple, whilst wiggling to music, and shimming on a bar top…or a handsome, that you’ll never see again.  I LOVE

The Day I did Gays in Leeds

 What a night! On Tuesday of last week…i went for a quick eye appointment, and a grab of the old contact lenses. I thought i couldn’t see because i was always drunk, but i actually can’t see because i’m blind. Yay! Anyway, the Glamour puss was in Doncaster, purchasing her sight and with it carefully boxed and thrown into a bag, i found myself on a train, after my phone decided to ruin my life, by cutting out every four seconds, to annoy mankind. Even my phone is a bitch. It decides who it wants to talk to, and when it’s done *dial tone here* it hangs up on you…and all by itself. Hottest day ever, and not a good day to have a not working very well phone and well…a period. (Wunna AGAIN fails at baby making.)

Got to Leeds, where i met my gay friend @GaryPonty at the station, and with a wiggle, a wink, and a trip over my own foot, due to not being able to see behind my sunglasses, we walked to Browns…a lovely little wine bar, had a whole bottle of rose wine, talked about talk, then with a text, giggle and ‘ooh la laaa,’ @Omarbitch and his cutsie friend Amy, joined our little team of deliciousness. I already felt a bit drunk by this point, due to no food in my system. #nevergood. We walked to MAC, because @Omarbitch (who i now will always label as a Goddess, needed some foundation. I like a boy who needs foundation…he has his prioities perfectly ‘oooh.’)

When all that got done, Gary was armed with drunkness, i was armed with my bag of *sight,* Amy was armed with responsibility, and Omarbitch…the Goddess was armed with cheekbones and foundation. Amy, was sensible and left at this point…it was lovely weather by the way, and well the three kittens that were left, decided to find the rainbow flag and drink, with the gays! My speciality! Queens court. We we’re there…now joined by a jolly old, gay, (who ended up  spanking Gary,) a horny drag DJ bartender, who wanted to feel my little Goddess up, and yeah…drinking occured…lots of it, courtesy of the Ultimate Glamour puss. I loved it! I had an amazing time. The weather was delicious, we laughed, giggled, looked through porn mags, teased, played, drank and cruised for hotties..and there were quite a few…outside. (The inside ones we’re a little ‘off.’)

I am quite keen to study my new kingdom, and therefore i actually think i was armed with perfectly delicious company. The gays could not KEEP their eyes off @Omarbitch…he definitely stole the limelight, but i like that he commanded the surounding without even trying…he was kitten like and well Gary began step ball changing, ending with a beautifully clumsy *leg extension* around the bar. I like that too…they both know how to GRAB THE ATTENTION. Oooh my Pusses ROCK!! It’s an outstanding team of northern *wink wink.* (I love that they knew so much about me, without me having to explain myself…it makes it all easier!)

Lots of drinking occured…the kind where the day turns to night…accidentally. Omarbitch had the sense to glide away, at a decent hour, due to being fashionable, responsible and a goddess. Gary and I…opted for the ‘no sense’ tick box, and went to about three more bars. I was sat outside on the patio, i had left my *sight* on an inside sofa..and it was put behind a DJ box, by a DJ Drag Queen. A gentlemen, who i did actually like…even though he thought he was an old gay that dressed young, (I told him to work the ‘old thing.’ I mean who doesn’t love a sugar daddy,) but then he tried to steal my jacket. Well i thought he was stealing it, but it seems he was just carrying it around. (Aww…i love my gays.)

Anyway, Gary and I spot him, i shout, ‘OMG he’s stealing my coat.’ He comes a hobbling over the cobbles to give it back to me..and then due to sheer drunkness, we thought it would be DEAD FUNNY, to steal his stuff! It wasn’t! I don’t encourage this behaviour, but you did have to be there..it was hilarious. Anyway, he had a H& M plastic bag, with a tight white t-shirt in, and a pair of Armani sunglasses and a couple of mags, where boys give each other blowjobs. I’m not sure what happened to the mags..(Gary probably pocketed them)..but we pretty much had more wine and stole the other items..by scooping up the bag like it was ‘Tinkerbell.’ (As in the dog of Paris Hilton and not the fairy.)

Now, Gary has sick abusive past in Leeds and wanted to have a fall down memory lane..therefore he took me to the other gay bars, one that was alright…apart from the fact that we got more drunk, had a fight, caused toruble to the point where it was just best if we LEFT..and then we fell into some other gay venue of ‘wiggle.’ This one was apparently where all the disgusting chavy gays, washed up trannies and druggies go. They didn’t seem to be there…and they did seem a bit old and chubby…but fuck it, the music was ALL pop and AMAZING…so we did really slutty podium dancing, to an audience of 2 people..who weren’t at all bothered! We got our bits out for mirrors and giggled. We jumped and grinded off the podium, and on to the floor, not only dragging our ego’s, but also dragging chairs.

Now i can’t really remember a thing…i was that blotto. But i do recall, kicking my leg up on the stoll, like a Glamour Puss, doing slutty faces, and pouting, to very very loud music. Unfortunately Gary kept FALLING down!! HAHAHA! Everytime i looked at him, he was on the fall. His demon dance moves consisted off losing his sight, lifting his shirt up, falling into a wall, bounding off it, falling into the opposite wall, bounding off that, hitting the floor, grinding sexually, with a rather dirty face on and then getting back up to only fall again…and with a chair. All of this was to ‘Promise’ by Girls Aloud. 🙂 We were rat arsed.

Anyway we got bored of that and went back to Queens Court, first man we see is the one we stole from (ofcourse…worst criminals ever)…the fact that we both LIED so fluently in that moment of panic…means we’re awful human beings. It’s now night by the way. Both of us at the same time blurt out, ‘OMg we’ve been looking for you everywhere…we found your bag and wanted to give it back to you. Thank God we found you!’

The terrible thing was he was really grateful, then Gary told him he was parched from having to hunt for him all day, in every bar…HAHAHA…so he bought us a rose’ wine. OMG..how evil of us! Bad baaad form. Not sure what happened, but we had to get back to Ponty coz Loverboy had offered to pick us up. I just found myself linking arms with Gary, talking as loud as we could, walking to the train station..but with two full wine glasses, that i was half drinking and half sloshing around, like i owned the WORLD. We didn’t know why everyone was glaring at us..we thought it was because we were beautiful. 🙂

Luckily i saw a guy in a neon workmans jacket. When i’m drunk, i mistake them for police..and we all know i don’t like jail…so quickly acted like the most graceful, sober, Princess the world has ever seen, threw my wine glass down somewhere, realized we missed our last train, got in a taxi to Ponty, shimmied into a pub drunk, and had Loverboy meet us!

I can’t remember the rest..apart from then going to the Counting House…infact waltzing in like the most drunk person you’ve ever seen. I love the Counting house. It’s my safe place. Great night. All i can remember really…oh apart from standing on the wall and trying to pretend the scaffolding was a strippers pole. 🙂

Cosmetics, Castings & Conundrums

Woke up this morning to BBM messages from Boyband Jonny (my ex-eroo) informing me of the fact that he was extremely horny, with his hands down his pants, wanting to ‘hump everything’ and that now wishes to be ‘on me ALL DAY.’ Well that’s just great innit. When i dated him, he was younger and all what i like to label ‘A-sexual’ Jonny. Now, (we’re not together)… he’s a horn ball. Typical! I told him that at least wanking would keep him out of trouble if if he ever went through a slaggy phase. I mean surely it’s hard to torture the heart of you’re left hand. (Yes..he’s a lefty. *geezer geezer*

I actually got messages from people screaming ‘OMG NO..what about Loverboy!’ Now, don’t you worry. Pete and I are perfectly fine. He’s my ‘perfect‘ and soo ‘total much’ delicious. I’d never cheat on him…the only time i have was with a goat, and he was fine with that…even though it did give him a bit of a cramp. (Aaah goats!) If i’m honest..other than the affection, the looks, reliablity and the romance, one of the things i adore about Loverboy is the fact that he’s ‘slaggy.’ Well..sexual, senusual, likes to express himself  through sex and actually loves it. Infact, that is probably one of the things he likes about me. Jonny never enjoyed that side to me, to it’s fullest..but i always wished he did. I’m just telling you the story of my life. Pete wants us to live together so we can have ‘sex before work, sex before play, sex before dinner, sex before sex.’ Now Jonny and I are seperated, Jonny wants a bit of ‘slagga-slagga-muffin.’ But that’s normal for guys. (I want my facebook handsomes to write me love poems, to kill a good 5 minutes. One gent told me to ‘Get a Life’ today! I enjoy that i bring out the best in ‘beings.’ He left it as comment on one of my blog posts. But we ‘unapproved’ it. Technically, i have a life..and i write about it. You (Mister party pooper) spend you’re time of ‘life’.. writing evil tings (i like saying ‘tings) to a wide eyed, drunken Glamour Puss! *Hair toss* My answer to that little clumsy fingered, puzzle of ‘Rubix’ is…..

 run around the streets of Leeds in a glitter bikini, throwing it through the air gleefully, before getting run over and sworn at by decent human beings. Yep, i’d definitely like that piece of life! Gimme! Gimme! (Ugh, my boobs are swollen today.)

My cosmetics line is at this precise moment being made. It’s out in the summer, beginning in America. I mean we have to actually get permission or something to sell it in the Uk. We all know i love a bit of Glam, so hopefully you will too! I’ve chosen colours that everyone can use, be you pale, dark, or inbetween. The Chrissie Wunna cosmetics range…how AMAZING! Getting drunk and being ballsy really did get me quite far. lol (I’ve lost my cuppa tea?)

Okay, incase you didn’t know, i’ve just been offered a role as a talent agent, booker, and talent PR and marketting hero (wink pout) at the BOND agency, in Leeds. They represent models, actors, presenters etc… It’s the leading agency up north, full of ambitious, delicious, ‘work hard for you’ agents of ‘clout.’ (I mean a 14 year old girl just booked a giant contract with CHANEL through them! OMG!!! Jealous much! 14!!!!)

Anyway, from now on, i’ll be trying to book people on castings, finding clients, helping you with your careers, and so championing you on your way to moola. (Which rhymes with hoola, with reminds me that i’m meant to be buying a coconut bra and grass skirt today and i forgot! UGH! I hate forgetting! Annoying much!)

But yes, if you are a model, or want to be a model (of any kind, high fashion, commercial, any age, race, height, or gender) or you are an actor, a presenter, and really want to try and get on those castings. You can mail ME, your pics, headshots, stats and CV’s, with your contact details and i’ll take a looky looky:

Mail to:  Bond, Cedan House, 102 Kirkstall Rd, Leeds, L

I’m immediately looking for  girls 5ft 5 and above…at least a C-cup, great personality, decent model, for a fashion show casting. But that’s just what we’re looking for right this second. I’m currently looking for ALL models and Actors! Get submitting! Now!

Ego Ego Ego Much

I just got back from Nandos with my Mother and Father in Pontefract. I’ve been full all day, from doing a big steak lunch with half pints, with Loverboy. We also went  shopping, had a brief talk about his life…but that’s between him and I, then we went to watch people ski, as we had more half pints and i said ‘Hi’ to a Wunna fan. Loved her!

Anyway, yeah…Nandos wasn’t really exciting me. I was tired, grumpy, i hate being rushed, i looked awful…but with a *huff and a puff*, i slammed doors and tantrumed into the BMW, with the good folk that bred me, for a quarter chicken (mango lime) with a side of Peri chips.

Now i never stay grumbly for long…it’s not in my nature and not because life is too short…more because frowning will give you wrinkles..awful ones. But yeah…*distracted much*I got stared at a lot, which i thought was because i was off the telly. (Oh how humble I am.) It apparently had nothing to do with all that jiggery pokery. Infact, even my mum said, ‘Why do you think everyones glaring at you right now?‘ I replied with a cheeky ‘…because i’m beautiful?‘ However no, (eww factor much) they were watching me because i was winking, pouting and actually completely doing my face..and using my butter knife as a mirror. I tend to do this and not realize. I find it normal, everyone else thinks it’s quite bizarre. If i’m on a train, the whole table will get turned into a beauty parlour. If i’m at dinner, there you go again…the ‘beauty parlour’ is out before the starter. I mean, i’m not a shy girl. I’ll go to TOWN on it. *Hair toss-Hair toss- Pout-Gloss-Bronzer-Bronzer-Knife image down.* I’ll not only do MY face, but probably yours too! I’m the kinda floozey who puts MAC bronzer on my Kittens. Well i have a separate blusher brush for them…and every morning the girls with stand in line, and i pretend to *blush* them. (Be a Glamour Puss, it’s so much fun. All you have to do, is celebrate who you are, in the most comfortable, over the top fashion and LOVE it! Tell the world you are beautiful. Tell the nation you are amazing! It really is okay to do so, and those who tell you it’s wrong… are to immediately be put in the yukky bin of misery much. They are sooo not on the list of ‘ooh laa.’ If someone is going to tell you off for being confident and happy…then they’re a bundle of silly billies. REJOICE!)

Nando’s was okay. Not wonderful, but not bad. My mum rambled on about penis and a movie she just watched. When people talk and talk and talk about boring stuff, i always think it’s because they’re lonely and they don’t have many people to communicate with. I’m a chatty girl…but i know how to hit bullet points. I don’t like ramblers. They never know what they’re on about. I adore my Mother and it makes me sad to think that she might feel lonely. But i played good daughter…and listened. I liked watching her face light up, when she had our attention. My mums like a little girl, trapped in a womans body. I love her. We actually did ‘Yo sushi’ the other day at Meadowhall…a lot of you saw me, a lot of you stopped for piccies and to say ‘Hello.’ If you didn’t dare talk to me (i’ve recieved a bunch of messages from you) …know that there’s really no need to be scared. I’m usually drunk…and when drunk…i’m chipper 🙂

I’ve notcied that the hoochier I dress, the more people recognize me. When people see me fully clothed..they stare at me and do the ‘how do i know her’ thing? When i’m in zero clothes, a bikini, booty shorts, tiny skirt or i’m horizontal…i immediately get the ‘OMG that’s Chrissie Wunna,’ shimmie sham. I’m worthless clothed. It’s God’s way of telling me. I celebrate my body, but i’m telling you..all this eating at every popular Leeds restuarant…is not only gonna make me look like i’m having a ‘sit down with my ego…’  but like i’ve also EATEN it, with a side of yo mama’s so fat jokes. UGH!

I should probably go to bed now. I’ve properly done my back in. I’m all broken and achey. I need a rub down. A hot one, that ends in all sorts. My Mother keeps giving me lectures..but she always does them in code. I don’t get code? I need everything completely open, frank and honest. I don’t like it to be decorated with nonsense. It’s hard enough trying to see you, after my cocktail top up…let alone trying to figure out what you’re rambling on about! I learn things the hard way. We know this. Why bother trying to soften my fall? 🙂 I need rest time. No-ones letting me rest. I’m actually beginning to feel old. *Oh fuck it, lets throw in a confetti shower here*