Eventful day! I’ve been up since 7am…an hour that i neatly classify as ‘horrendous.’ 7 am should be an hour of sinning. You should either be dragging your drunken ass in, with streamers tangled into your hair, some gaggle of girlies and red wine spilt down your dress, or throwing your leg over some ‘Handsome’ that’s swearing that you have a beautiful smile. What 7am shouldn’t be…is a time where you’re being prodded up by a voice saying ‘Wakey Boo’ (means ‘wake up’ in Wunna Land) then being told you have 20 minutes to get groomed and ready! Ugh, you know when you just NEED that extra 2 hours of ‘shut eye,’ but you are being forced up and even worse KNOW you can’t venture ANYWHERE without looking like a kitten of sheer glory, which therefore means ‘grooming in a rush.’ The morning, i just couldn’t handle. I didn’t even have a boy in my bed, or it would’ve made it easier to ‘do one’ However, nonetheless, i threw on an outfit that i THOUGHT i could fit into, then got sooo pissed off with the fact that i actually couldn’t at all even *squeeze* any part of me into it, without looking like a bitch of fatty. Then flung on a more comfortable, hoochie mama, black dress…with those vixen 9 inch heels (I’ll never learn,) grabbed my paperwork, lipglossed, bronzed, hair tossed, found myself surrounded by ‘yelling’ due to not working lights, threw a pair of Uggs, in an animal print bag and after a quick mirror pose and a latte clutch, i ran out the door, into a black Mercedes and was driven to Doncaster train station. All in 20 minutes, and with kittens circling my feet. I AM THE ULTIMATE DOLL OF YUM YUM!!
The rest of the morning, once in Doncaster, was spent in coffee shops, studying people with my slanted eyes for blog fodder, with a cinammon roll and more coffee, whilst i waited for my ’8 something’ train. (No-one was interesting me. They all were in grey and ignoring the art of LIVING.) Being a Glamour puss, yet a soon to be mum is confusing me deeply? I don’t like being fat. Do i act pregnant and still wink at strangers or do i pretend i’m not and *strut* my way through town like a vixen? Do i acknowledge the staring ‘Handsomes’ or do i make like i don’t see them? I hate that i can’t fit into anything. I lived my day in a little black dress. I had to wear date clothes, in the DAYTIME! Kill me! (The good news is that i bought a new lipstick from MAC today…in ‘Glaze.’ I am hoping it’s ‘glaze’ as in sugar coated & not as in ‘chicken flavoured.’)
After Doncaster and feeling all worn and not yet awake. I’m trained it up to Meadowhall in
You’ll win some and you’ll lose some, but if it’s your destiny, you will get there in the end. Fate’s a funny thing. It’s one of those things that we use as an excuse or never believe in, until we’ve fucked it all up and found ourselves in this position that we were meant for.
Oh Loverboy and I didn’t get that BBC thing. But i do have another audition for a show, coming up. I love that i told Pete that he wouldn’t leave me ever simply because i give a good blow job and with buffalo wing in my mouth. He agreed. Everyday i seem to be pushing my sexuality to get a quicker *nod* of approval. I need to stop, but right now i’m finding it far too fun and until the boys stop responding, the *wiggle & wink* will always be there.
Watching Fearne & Craig David and i’m in love. How hot is Craig David!?! Infact, wait…lets sing it ‘Craaaaiiiiig DaaAAAAavviiIIiid.’ I adore him because he lives his life the way i want to…or well do. AND to top it all off, he looks like Loverboy. I don’t know whether i fancy Loverboy because he resembles Craig David, or i adore Craig because he reminds me of Loverboy. But lets not dwell on that and instead lets imagine them both shirtless! Fit!!
We all know, i love a mixed raced boy. I love a bit of the exotic, a bit of the old ‘flashy flashy.’ I don’t mean chavvy ‘flashy-bling bling’…but i do mean that whole hip/hop, P.Diddy McBlingster ‘ooh laa.’ I’m naturally flashy, i love celebrating life with diamonds, jazcuzzi’s, chandeliers, cocktails, shimmies, fast cars and most of all PEOPLE! I like to show people i good time and i love to add fun into lives. I’m not one to care what anyone thinks. I grew up the Hollyway and well if i bring that to Yorkshire…then you’re just gonna have to adore it, or kitty cat ur pretty bootay out.
The good thing about the boys that i adore, (currently Loverboy & Craig David lol) is the fact that they are gentle men, who adore women. They love make and don’t F***. They treat you with great charm and sensitivity. They like to celebrate love, life, their woman and with style, softness and bedroom eyes. They enjoy beautiful things and femininity. I love extravagance and well all the boys I adore should do too. ‘Beauty awakens the soul.‘
‘Fearne and..‘is a GREAT show and actually produced by the same guy that did the Paris Hilton one i was on. We call him ‘Thompy‘ and Kat used to really fancy him. (Helllo silver fox.) I’ve noticed how the Americans (apart from Hilton) kinda weren’t too bothered with meeting Fearne. I didn’t like that. I mean Mischa was a cow and Beth Ditto preferred to sleep. Yet the Brits…apart from Peaches Geldof have been polite, cordial and welcoming. Why is that? (OMG i sooo want his fluffy white cushions that are perched on his bright white sofa!! Now! Now! Now!!!)
Anyway enough of all that, i just wanted to check in really quickly and share my adoration for cocoa boys, with a gentle disposition, but an eye for a bit of ‘flashy,‘ who are maybe dipped in ‘sexy.’ Now my halogen heater is burning me alive. Niice. Can’t walk, can’t see and now with burns. (I love that Loverboy picked Me to be the Mother of his child…and i thoroughly enjoy that I picked him…and because we all know that’s really how it happened. Aww…i miss him tonight. I want to give him a *kissy face.*)
I need an early night methinks. I’ve got a morning start!
I’m currently being GREATNE. Oh my word! I’m in such a state of ‘now REALLY shouldn’t have done a hike in high heels,’ yesterday. A regretable phase of ‘ouchy.’ Here i am attempting to ‘do ‘ life in the most glamourous and sexy way. I’m hailing a lable of ‘Kitty cat.’ A Glamour puss stature of ‘Ultimate.‘ But i CANNOT currently WALK for the life of me. I’m the little kitten, who couldn’t *strut.* [Do a wide eyed 'sad face' here.] That should be a childrens fairytale. Yet really, it’s hardly ticking the box of *wink-pout.* I attempted to walk from one end of the living room, from a comfy seated position to ‘just a bit nearer the telly.’ OMG! I have never put myself through soooo much PAIN, in my life EVER!!! Moving my leg even a INCH forward, killed sooo badly, i had to stumble back down, in order to gain some sort of immediate false sense of security!! I FELL onto an armchair. I don’t fall on armchairs! I *wink* on them. This is not acceptable behaviour for a Glamour puss of ‘dolly.’ I *fall* mid-shimmie down gutters…after cocktails. Or onto the lap of a ‘handsome.‘ ( I enjoy that i once scored a date by tripping up outside Hamley’s in London and into a male models CROTCH, around Halloween!! He bought me dinner…but ofcourse didn’t want anything too longterm. I got dissed under ‘let off into the air early’ fireworks. I was dressed as a slutty sparrow, which at least made it all worth it.)
I am literally having to slooowly side step, to avoid too much pain, in order to function. LOL. It’s horrific. I look like i’m an animated creature trying to ‘creep’ everywhere. HAHAHA. I have actually, really, no word of a lie, torn my body from the boobs down. Walking is far too painful and well stairs look like the DEVIL! I’m never not taking comfy shoes with me EVERYWHERE in my bag. My body is busted, the sky is al lornage right now, outside my window, i have 3 kittens curled up in a ball infront of me and i’ve just been told that ‘Jersey shore’ is airing in Japan, under the new title of ‘Macaroni Rascals.‘ Awesomeness!!
Today, apart from my current leg ache and back ache, due to high heeled hikes… is pretty great. I feel adored, loved and wide eyed. I’ve been told i have big eyes for a chinese looking girl, that Flic is one of the new faces of McDonalds (hahaha,) i apparently always *rollie pollie* in the middle of the night, when i’m in bed with Loverboy, mid-snuggle and commit to sleeping directly in the middle of the mattress and *starfish* (we all love center stage) and not only GREAT in ‘small spatz,’ (because i am a ‘small spat,’) but i’m the most entertaining person you’ll ever meet and also have no sense of direction. I get supremely narked off when i’m in a taxi, because they should KNOW where they are going. Harriet doesn’t trust me to be able to get to her new house in a cab, due to me not being able to figure my way anywhere. I’m one of those dollies, who just stumbles to her destination. If i want Marmite, i apparently have to bring it.
It’s actually hilarious that in order to move, walk, bend or stretch i’m having to calculate my every move. I put a foot forward, it kills, then i piss myself laughing. I need wine, in order to cope. I’ve got to *strut* around Meadowhall tomorrow…how am i going to achieve this…sober? ( I love that i cried at Manchester Piccadilly station yesterday, Platform 13 and because my feet hurt.) TRAGIC!
Other than all that i’ve told the world that i’m a mini-skirt wearing, high heeled, lippy Queen and i’ve been helping a boy named ‘Calvin’ be BRAVE! He is wasting his love life, by not daring to beable to ask girls he likes on dates. Being terrified of women is always funny. I never know why boys are so scared? It’s not like you’re having to fight lions in golden thongs…all you have to do is get drunk (no-one’s expecting you to be sober) and say ‘Do you wanna go for a drink sometime?’ He says he’s sensitive,emotional, doesn’t want to get hurt or rejected and pretty much can look at a girl in a bar, tell himself what will happen (‘she’ll turn me down or even date me and break up with me a month later,‘) and therefore not attempt to *swagger up * there and get love.
I told him that girls love guys who are kind, love them, are funny, brave and want to be with them forever. He was unaware of this? But how? I mean, Loverboy didn’t get me by say ‘Yo! I have no love to give. I just want sex and then to bang my chest like a caveman.’ He looked at me, told me i was beautiful and that he loved me. He got the girl. If you ask him why he was brave, because he’s a shy boy…he claims it was because he saw what he ultimately wanted forever and had nothing to lose. He couldn’t let me walk by and not say anything. WE LIKE THAT!!! (And yeah, you might get rejected. But we all do at some point. INNIT!)
I love that Calvin describes himself as a tall, pale bastard. Which i think is a ’being’ that you can bare for long lengths of time, yet only in the cold and if you like bastards. I’m a short spat of *fire.* I can’t reach things, be NOT annoying after a while. But for that moment, of ‘us,’ you’ll be enchanted with ths whirlwind of charismatic madness. Oohhh laaa! (The new hot boys on Emmerdale are gaying up raunchy style, on my telly, as i write this!! I love it.)
Just tried to get up and walk…to try and reach the remote. I had to place my hands on my hips, after screwing up my face in pain due to the ordeal of raising my body and then with BENT ‘crab like’ knees, slooowly side step, by a cherry wood table, with candles on shrieking in agony, with every ‘move’ made. HAHA. Delicious! Helloooo sex symbol!
I can’t remember what i wanted to tell you about now. The pain and sheer crab walk has made me lose my memory. I’m like a disabled Bimbo. Anyway, i must go and tend to being a Queen. I’ll be entering internet ‘comment’ boxes for a wee while and simply because i’m feeling opinionated. I’m finding it hilarious because whenever i do enter a comment box, all decency falls to pieces and people start calling each other ‘whores.‘ Genius!
A day of pure bliss! Today and all day, I am resting from the boobs down. That high heeled hike of hilarity, that was forced upon me yesterday, really took it out of me. I’ve done my back in, pulling limbs i didn’t even know i had whilst i shuffle along (haha) but doing it all with a smile on my face. I feel WONDERFUL today, all cutsie, loved up and with kittens. The first conversation i woke up to, was transported to me, via my Blackberry. I was snuggled in my sheets at 11.25am (feels so delicious having a chill day to re-coup) and my openning convo of the day was nothing short of lovely from the man of my dreams, a.k.a ‘Loverboy,’ who was driving around Leeds looking for a McDonalds. (Hardly the height of romance, but saying that we all love a McMuffin.)
Due to severe tiredness, i kept doing this random thing, where i was in such a deeeep sleep, that my mind kept making me dream that i was waking up over and over again, at a certain time on the Feb 29th? It was like something out of a movie, where they have to repeat the day a million times over. Everytime, i looked and realized it was Feb 29th, i got pulled back into my sleep of deepness and into another dream. Weird happenings much!!! I hope i didn’t use up any of my nine lives? (That new ITV2 Essex show looks like it’s going to be AMAZING. The commercial looks, all champagne, leopard print and glam. It’s like they’ve turned Essex into the Hollywood hills lol. I LOVE it!!)
Other than all that and Loverboy telling me that i was the girl of his dreams. (The last two days, have really affected him deeply. He’s really caught the ‘love bug’ and because i did his ironing. ) Last night he cuddled the pillow i used and because it smelt like me. I’m in Looove. But unfortunately can’t move from the boobs downward, after proving that 9 inch heels and preggoness, don’t mix.
I got distracted, didn’t i? Yeah, other that all that, i’m wanting to work at Hugo Boss and simply because the boys who work there look dreamy. I’d also like a Crimbo job at Harvey Nics and simply because department stores at Christmas time (my favourite time of year) are nothing but magical to me. They make me feel all warm and safe. I’d be surrounded by makeup, clothes, baubles, fashion, perfume, shoes, tinsel, eateries and personal shoppers. Heaven much! All my favourite things in one. Department stores cater to my Glamour pussy needs. I love over the top, ‘out there’ deliciousness. I don’t do trashy, but i certainly do bold, gentle, kitten-like, sexiness.
Facebook have contacted me today stating that my old Facebook account didn’t get cut, because of mistaken flooziness. It actually merrily happened to get disabled because someone reported me as not being a ‘real’ person. If i prove that i am really ‘Chrissie Wunna,’ then quite happily…i will get it back. (I am loving my new perv free profile though. It’s better for me personally AND my friends, because they don’t have weirdos stalking them.)
I also recieved a message from a ‘Niklas’ asking me if i wanted to turn my blog into a boobie paysite etc..etc… First of all, my blog isn’t some ridiculous porny site of ‘nasty,’ nor is it about boobs.It’s about life…my life. Love, romance, money, glamour, fun, living and learning. It’s just my story! I hate it when people try and swagger in, after years of me writing my blog and years of Wazza creating it and trying to turn it into some porny paysite. That’s NOT what this is about. It’s about my life experience and sharing my story creatively. You get to read the good times, the bad times, the times i’ve made poor decisions, the times i’ve made great decisions and the consequences. I had glitter, love, a bit of telly, celeb culture, normality, high heels, cocktails, winks, tears,joy and dancing boys. I’m put on this earth to inspire. To teach them to love who they are and celbrate their existance, no matter what. People…well MEN,the pervy, money hungry ones always get me wrong. I’m not the kind of girl, who would turn her blog into a ‘pay for porn’ website for MONEY! I’m not one to judge, but that’s not who i am. Make your OWN money sir, without having to use hot women.
I do always try to see the best in people, but right now i’m so over the pervs and scammers. I don’t even know if i’m meant to say, but one of BBF’s, who i respect dearly, has just been through a scarily awful time due to being used and scammed by a disgusting man in America. It reminded me that not everything is rosey tinted, just because my life is and that is why i will never do anything that’s ‘boobs out’ again. It really does set a bad example. I learnt the hard way.
Anyway, the BBF flew to America, after the guy had used my name to make her feel secure. When she got to Miami, she pretty much almost got kidnapped by this guy, who we’ve found out tricks models into work and then when they arrive, he kidnaps them and sells them off. He’s a sex trafficer. I cried that night, just because she had to go through that. I’m learning a lot in life and i’m passing on my knowledge. I’m made some giantly wrong decisions in life. The U-turns have not been fun. But i’m one of the lucky ones, that managed to land safely, happily and with happiness. If you’re one of the lucky ones, then it’s almost your duty to inspire.
Today, i’m covered in kittens, who just want to cuddle up by fireplaces. It’s merry cups of tea all day for me. I’m in love, work is wonderful, i have a great balance of fun and harmony and my *strut* is divine. I’ve been quite the bee of busy, so this chill day of pyjamas, is just what i need.
If you’re in trouble, get out of it…and do it in these! But not when you’re pregnant, as you will be unable to move from your boobs down the next day. (I love that i bare bum sat on a wasp! HAHA.. OH deary deary me.)
I’ve had the most WONDERFUL last couple of days. I’ve had living room pinics, filled with noodles, burgers, garlic bread and comfort food. I’ve been snuggled galore, shared smiles, sheets, looks and cuddles with the man of my dreams and whilst i was stuffing my face with singapore chow mein, i managed to bare bum sit on a live wasp, see it to it’s death, have a few custard creams, steal toilet rolls, bin bags, stub my toe, bang my knee on an open suitcase and then settle it ALL with a spray tan! (I’m currently a bit moody because i’ve returned home after the most magical two days with my ‘Handsome’..to a Mother who is seemingly grumpy and therefore lovingly taking it out on me. *Yawn.* Don’t you just hate it when people do that! If you’re moody, BE MOODY, say you’re moody and get over you’re moodiness. Remove yourself from ‘Happy land!’ Don’t start being EVIL to those merry beings around you, simply because YOU feel miserable. I’ve walked miles in 9 inch heels today, with a human in my belly GODDAMITT! I’m knackered. I don’t have time for mardiness, right now. I *zoned* her out! It was not well recieved. Lots of *hair-tossing & storming off* occured at this point and not even by me!! )
I’ll go back to my wonderful two days in a wee bit. Today Loverboy and I spent our day training it to Manchester to the BBC, to audition for a little ‘something/something.’ I loved it and loved how confident Pete was all the way there. I mean, we don’t know how well we did or anything, but in a few days we’ll be told. If i’m honest, i’d be nice if we did get a little BBC love. I’m in the mood for it. I think we’re down to the last bunch of pickings? We need luck! I’m feeling 50/50 about how well i did? It was actually quite daunting and quite bright sitting, all dollified and infront of a camera, a question answering. However, i can’t think of a better way to spend a day! Fun! An adventure and I looked hoochie. I never learn! If we get it, we get it and we do want to get it. If we don’t, we don’t and it will be a story to tell our *bumpage.* (Our little *bump* has been on loads of auditions already! Aww…! It’s a working *bump.* I’m soooo proud.) In regards to the audition…i’m one to believe that you will get what you are supposed to get.
On the way back from the BBC in Manchester, Pete made me commit to a 30 minute walk, in my 9 inch heels, hoochie mama outfit, hidden under a coat, and a baby in my belly! OMG, you have never seen me sooo MAD! He chose a 30min walk, over a 3 second train journey, simply because he wanted to, making us miss ALL our trains and then had the cheek to polish it off with a ‘The exercise’ll be good for you!!’ OMG…are you stupid!!! I yelled at him all the way home. It must have been a sight to see. My flat capped hero,being brutally scorned by little Dolly me and simply because he made me walk. I don’t even care! I’m a glamour puss! Heels, pregnancy, inappropriate outfit=NO WALKING! I had back ache, blisters on my feet and a frown. I bollocked him!!! I hate to be rushed, forced, dragged or walked. I glide, strut or totter, glamourously at my OWN speed. Pete’s the kind guy that will see that a train we can take home is about ot leave in 1 minute and try to make us RUN for it. Lets not be ridiculous!! I’m [swear here] in heels, knackered and PREGGO!!! I had flipping blisters! (Luckily, i proved him wrong and won. His car got locked in a parking lot, and simply because he refused to take MY train option. #Wunnawins.)
Other than all that the BBC thing today, was soooo much FUN!!! Kinda made me miss my time in the BBF mansion! I have wonderful memories from it. One’s that i’ll speak of, when i’m rummed up and 80. It’s weird auditioning with someone else, though? Pete’s a great deal more shy than I, so when it’s his turn to talk, i always want to talk OVER him, by accident. HAHA. Oopsie. Not sure what happened? But i do know that when ‘willy enlargements‘ are mentioned at any audition…it probably didn’t go as well as you hoped? Loverboy hates it when i talk over him. (‘OMG you kept answering my questions! They were MY questions.’) I’m surprised he’s not used to it by now.
Anyway, we’ve made up now and we’re back onto ‘fairytale’ mode. A grand mode of function. I think i got upset because i didn’t want to leave him, after an amazing two days. I used the high heeled hike, as my excuse. (I’m a hypocrite. Woohoo!) We’re just kittens who are highly attached to one another and it seems that we’re each others world. I’m not used to being or feeling this way. But i’m liking it. I love, love. There’s a lot of it in the world. Infact, I’m madly in love and It’s nothing short of marvellous. (I got so moody with him today, that i kept dodging his 16.22 kisses at Leeds train station for *rush hour* to see. I might have been *shouting* too? Oops! Apparently even my whispering is ‘mountain top’ loud. Then i had a Whopper burger and luckily felt much better!)
The train journey home was half relieving and half lonely. I’m in my pyjamas now, thankful to be home and in giant socks, whilst reading text messages from Harriet claiming that she loves that I was on ‘sex lessons,’ poems from Pearce about squirrels on drugs, DM’s from fans, who just needed someone to talk to and i’m surrounded by kittens and sided by fire place. Bliss! I love warmth! I love life. I love Me. I love everything!
The last two days were magical because for the first time Pete and I, got to be Pete and I….rawly.We never actually have had proper time with each other alone and by our rules. The last two days were simply that. I sat around with not much on my face, slobby clothes and no hair pieces. He snuggled me, and told me how much he cared. We got to go to sleep next to each other, in our OWN (well his own) bed and then wake up next to each other, like there was nothing more important in this entire world but love. I’m so happy right now, i could cry. It’s overwhelming, sort of recieving a happy ending. (No, i don’t mean a dirty one….for once. )
We’re really going to be more than okay and forever. I can’t even believe it….I did it. I’ve found my ‘happy.‘ (It’d be really nice to get that BBC thing now, to cream life off with that wonderful ‘glitter finale.‘ We’ll see.. It’d be a good way to celebrate ‘Us.’)
God, i can’t actually move my body from the boobs down. It aches that bad from my FORCED high heeled hike around Manchester. I could’ve DIED! I think i’ll have a bed day tomorrow. Every inch of me…but my face (ofcourse not the face) …aches severely!! Lovely! Lovely! Never wearing those BITCH heels AGAIN. *Tosses them.*
I’ve been up since 6am on a mad huNt to find my Mums glasses. I myself am blind without what i call ‘my eyes’ during the morning hours, but i enjoy it that way, as it fools me into believing i’m drunk and as well all know…i need that in my life! ‘Hellooo vodka…i miss you. Give me 5 more months and baby i’ll return.’ (I’ve lost count on months now. I was always shit at maths.) But yes, nothing is funnier that crawling around the floor in a baby pink nighty, sleep mask ready sexy, wedged on my forehead, hunting for *sight* and with my Mother, who was in white pyjamas with COWS on them!
We both pissed oursleves laughing at the disgrace we had become and with a ‘I’m a Glamour Puss, i can’t be on my knees without stockings!’ I got up, made myself a 6.15am cuppa tea and found myself in yellow rubber gloves. I am officially a DOMESTIC GODDESS! *Burns the toast.* What floozy has rubber gloves on before 7am! for those of you that have ever politely refered to me as a whore…you may know change that conundrun to ‘housewife.’ Yeah baby! (I can’t actually believe how much fun i’m having for it being so early. Well i can…and because i’m Chrissie Wunna. It’s freezing today!)
Okay continuing on from my rubber glove moment of domesticity, i then decided that since i had them on i should hand wash some of my panties in the kitchen sink. I actually SCRUBBED GUSSETS! HAH! There were zebra moments, hoocie moments, neon with pink bow moments and them a giant black cardigan that i thought i’d give a wash because it oddly smelt like cigarettes? I threw them in the tumble dryer, in my nighty, gloves, and now ‘sexy’ sleep mask flung on the floor somewhere by a tin of cat food and roses. Then realized that not only was the tumble dryer FULL to the brim with Tae Kwon Do outfits. (Random find? Yet where are the men who were in them hiding? *Licks Lips*) BUT…when i drained the sink out, that now had water the colour of good, clean SIN a circling, there was a chunk of BEEF (HAHAHAHA) an actual HUNK of BEFF, a small amount like the size of a Oxo cube, chilling in the bottom of the sink, that i had washed my panties in!! (I just can’t get away from that red meat!!) I’ve got to go to Sunday Dinner today with The Wattis Family (Pete’s folks) and my clothes will have been washed in BEEF!
I’m really excited today and just filled to the brim with ‘OOh laa.’ I hope you are too because we only have one life to live…or as we KNOW it, and it’s important we make the most of it, whether we’ve washing clothes in beef, in nighties, or waking up next to a stranger in Vegas. (I’ve done both.) *Shakes glitter off clothes.* Life is a lot more precious than you think. It’s all we have, without it, we can’t breathe, let alone make our dreams come true. Don’t ever take it for granted. Celebrate who you are and regardless as to what people think of you. It’s YOUR story! You are whoever you want to be!! Make the world yours! There’s not a moment that goes by that i’m not smiling and commiting to daft behaviour in order to accidentally keep my story alive. Love dont hate kittens!
I actaully got woekn up at around 4.23am this morning my a phonecall. I hate those phonecalls, becaus ethey make my eyes sting when i do actually wake up preoperly. I looked at my phone and it baby blue *flashed* the word ‘Jonny’ at me. He either dialed the wrong number. (Doubtful.) OR he commited to getting really pissed last night (it was Saturday, so why not) and decided to drunk dial everyone. Drunk dialing is fine, unless your drunk dialling you ex. I looked, fumbled around to try and make the noise stop and them thought ‘Fuck it’ and rolled over to cuddle my Lake District teddy bear.
I was in bed with someone last night. It’s weird to be snuggled up with someone in bed, and by the right hand side of you at 4 ‘something’ am and have your Black Berry, baby blue *Flash* the name of a previous option. It happens a lot to all Pusses of Glamour.
Yesterday was great!!! I shopped, spent quality time with my Daddy, he passed on his words of wisdom over coffee and then we had noddles called ‘Ho fun’ (best name ever) with my mummy! I LOVE famiyl days. I have parents who i’m EVER so lucky and grateful for. I could tickle them to death with glee…but then if they died, i wouldn’t get birthday presents. JOKING! I ADORE them!
We talked, we loved, we laughed and organized the future. I’m the lifesaver of the family and that is after my Mother. I have wonderful support and so it was great sitting on the leather benches at the Frenchgate center watching people *strut* by with my Daddy and commenting on what everyone was wearing! He gets really into it because i get my layful strek from him. Then a denim on denim dawrf started undressing me with his eyes, all confident and 3 ft 2. He asked me out and then terrified me! It wasn’t his height that scared me. I love midgets. Plus, it wasn’t even his choice in matchy matchy…that i’d let him get away with because of his height. (It’s sort of like when you dress a baby in an ‘all in one’ Tigger the Tiger suit, it’s cute. Yet on a MAN -sized person..it’s odd. Yet i still find it funny.)
Yeah it was none of the above that terrified me, but his HANDS! I mean he must have had them hidden at first when he was licking his lips at my Father and I. (That would’ve been an odd ’hillbilly’ threesome of slanted eyeness!?!) Then all of a sudden and out of know where and because my stupid face *smiled* at him! (I’m a happy person, a flirty person, a people person. I can’t help but be inviting. ) OUT whopped these hands the size of hippos. HIPPOS! I even *jumped*..which was rude of me and didn’t even attempt to turn it into a *cough.* Holy SHIT! (All i got form you lot was ”Twitpic it Chrissie!!’) Typical! As if i can stand there and take pictures of him, mid-moment. HAHAHA
At that point he lost me and i had to run away screaming, waving at little girl fans who had seen me eat noodles and then into the safe haven of a nail salon (Hollywood nails in Doncaster) to get my an extensions refilled and pearled. It fooled me into believing life was once again normal. I didn’t know midgets had massive hands? You couldn’t fight that thing with donkies! I loved his suggestive eyes. Later on in the day a homelss man tried to grab my right boobie. My Mum just looked at me and said ‘God, you’re pulling some right horrors today Christina!’
Other than all that, i feel GREAT, i’m slighty tanned ( we all feel better with a tan) and i am currently tumble drying.) I have a the next TWO days with Loverboy, beginning at around 1.30pm where i will tend to a yummy Sunday Dinner and i can’t wait. W’re really in love right now. We’re back to the fairytale. I’m in love and i can’t think of a better person to spend the rest of my life with. Last night, after he told me that he’s previosuly slept with loads of mingers (ever the romantic) and that he had moved his glass dining room table into the kitchen to replace it with a weight lifting chair, in the middle of his LIVING room. (He needs a dosage of ‘Queer eye.’) We spent the night talking about our future baby and how excited we were. Then i realized that i had a pimple on my left buttock and that i’d really love to be a Personal Shopper at Harvey Nics.
I’m loving life, living it and making my dreams come true. I’m currently surrounded by 5 lighted tealight candles, that have been placed between gold , fruit and flowers. How remarkably magical. Today is going to be AMAZING! (But yes…its fucking COLD!) *Grabs fur*
Up and ready as early as can be for my loong day of shopping!! Woohoo! I feel flirty, sexy, warm and like my jumper needs to be two sizes bigger…gurrrrl!
Not only that but i’ve made the executive decision that i’m going to have a day of marvel. I have a smile from ear to ear and a giggly *hair-toss* that could break the Devil’s heart. (I’m quite happy for waking up at 7am. I haven’t had my pills yet! )
Just quickly and because i’ve getting told to rush on by a lady by an ironing board, who seems to be rummaging through my purse. (It’s animal print! I’d have a rummage tooo! It’s almost as if she’s rummaging for coins in the arse of a cow.) Anyway…yeah…opened my eyes this morning, kitty catted up, found something on my foot, picked it up and saw that it was a T-shirt reading ‘Diamonds are a girls best friend.’ Now, i don’t know who owns this bright white and baby pinked,diamante piece of glory, but it’s now MINE! I feel like a treasure finding pirate of Glamour puss. I LOVE MY LIFE!
That moment of materialism, has made by morning. Then to top it all off, i found a bag of pork scratching! Could things GET any better!!! LOVING TODAY!
Luckily, i got done with wallowing in ‘i’m bored’ self pity and with a *shimmie* and a pull of myself together, i managed to find myself in a rather busy situation. (I’m actually meant to be at ‘Fire’ in Leeds tonight. Yet i just did feel up to it. These days i’m really happy just chilling. The thought of being preggo, not being able to drink, all dolled up in some miniest of dresses, in heels, in the cold and around people i don’t really know, feels not only daunting, but also pointless.) I’m actually quite impressed with myself for being a good mum….naturally. I thought i was bored. Yet really i’ve got it pretty decent and down to my own hard work.
I put on my pyjamas at some rather ‘lost my Friday feeling’ o clock. Realized, i actually have a lot to be getting on with. Then *smiled* over the fact that it was actually ALL work. My good time hobbies, that i would usually file under ‘Play’ is now my work. It confuses me…but i love it. I’ve sorted out my cosmetics line and played tamper with the logo. I mean, it hasn’t even absorbed yet? 64 products of lush lippy stickies, blushes,bronzers and decadent shimmers…that will all be under my brand. WTF? It’ s amazing. That’s only the beginning. Yeah, it’s taking a long time to ‘kitty cat’ it all together. But it’s being made and then sold in America firstly and then the land that birthed me, will follow. I actually have stuff to do…fun stuff…i just never realize it because all my friends around me have jobs the completely despise, which fools me into believing ‘work’ is not something you should enjoy. I followed my passion, took gambles and played with fire. Now, i’m being given the opportunity to have three things that i adore, which is my blog, make-up and ME… be my work. I forget it is work…and that is why i’m lucky. It’s weird when you have your ‘dream come true,’ it’s forever a hard thing to absorb. Now i’m sober…i can appreciate it more, instead of ginning myself out of complete reality and not actually being able to fully see what i’ve achieved. I always thought i was some drunken floozy who got lucky. But i’m actually a drunken floozy, who worked really hard. Well done me.
After getting over myselfand my pity bucket of boredom. I placed on polka dot pyjamas, surrounded myself with kittens, cuddled up by my Mother’s fireplace and worked. I worked hard and got lost in a merry world of ‘dreams come true.’ I sorted out my book, did research on the different brands of popular makeup, Googled the history of people who i believe have done both well and badly with their personal PR, studied my country and then took time out to spend with my mother. (My phone rang the whole way through this time, full of people who wanted to go out.) I’m being oddly far more disciplined then i ever thought i would be. I will always remember my ex-hubby Michael NEVER EVER going out, and always, always working hard at home or just chilling with ME..his wife. He told me ‘the scene’ would always be there and that when he was successful, he could party all he wanted…if he wanted. All that mattered was his craft. He was right! I watched it happen before my very eyes. It’s just that saying that i keep repeating, ‘people get ahead in the time that others waste.’ I’ve wasted a lot of time in life. But now…i’m totally getting it. I’m happy. I’m strong. And i’m doing whatever i want.
Right now, i’m preggo (one of the most beautiful things) i have a lot of time on my hands and therefore a lot to dedicate on my ‘loves.’ (Work, Loverboy & Family.) My Mum sat me down and told me i was different from everyone else, yet always strive to be normal. I’m apparently not meant to feel bad for not feeling or being normal. I have a different path…and a whole lot of luck on my side. She also told me to relax and rest, during this time. It’s something that a lot of people are unable to do and i’m actually LUCKY that i don’t have to struggle. I’m being blessed with a pregnancy and a great deal of time to dedicate to my book and all of the other things that i adore. For some reason, she thinks i try to find *struggle* when i don’t need to. I have it easy. I need to be more grateful. I don’t know why i keep trying to complicate things??? I must stop…it’s not sexy being broken.
From now on i’m going to refrain from being grumbly and just be happy with all that i have. I don’t know why i even stress myself out? I’m doing fine!!!! I swear the hormones are doing a number on me. Yet saying all that i was then told to do rollie pollies, confused it with a preggo lady act of sexuality, then told to maybe scrap that idea and maybe do larmars…which i regrettable believed thought meant sleep with MEN named ‘Lamar?’ I don’t know how all my ‘i don’t have a baby’ friends are all so highly knowledgable about this whole labour malarky?? I’m just gonna commit to a whole ‘Wing it with Wunna’ style birth. Breathe? I get breathing! It’s not a difficult concept.
I’ve forgotten to call Pete…so i must go tend to that now. I have a big day of shopping tomorrow. I’m being sent to Doncaster at some horrifically early time to look after my father, who apparently can’t be trusted in shopping centres on his own. He tends to wander off and fall asleep on things.
I’ve quit being a bratt today. Yippee! I guess, you just need to look around and see what you actually have and in the most positive of all pretty lights. I’m the luckiest and happiest i’ve ever been. Now all i have to do, is just keep it that way. I don’t always get it right. But just like you, i’m polishing my ‘L’ plates. (Wazza told me today that both Paris Hilton and I have been blacklisted on Google features? I don’t know what that means…i just like the feeling of how humourous it completely sounds!! I’m being naughty without me even realizing. Only the best get black listed. Well something like that anyhow? When i was all rebellious and naughty…i was worshipped. Now that i’m good…i’m being listed in BLACK.)
OMG! Woke up this morning deeply snuggled in my sheets. I have the flu AND a human in my Uterus that will have to look after lovingly for the upcoming years. The Flu, dipped with ‘human in my belly’ ain’t too sweet. But being the kitty catterilla that i am, i just looooves being snuggled in deep cosy sheets. (Any excuse to do my work in frilly pyjamas all day.)
Although im sick, i feel quite filled to the brim with affection and ‘ooh laa.’ I’m like a giggly bundle of horrifically infectious flu. *Sneeze-winks* I’m sure it won’t last long?I just seem to get bored when i’m poorly, like i have nothing worthwhile to do, inspire or destroy? I need a calm, easy preggo job that i can do, to pass the time before the book, the cosmetic line and acting school. I’m in this weird ‘meantime’ phase, where i’m just waiting for the arrival of my ‘Glamour puss.’ Until then everything is on *hold* button. I hate the *hold* button phase. At least when you’re in line on the phone and all ready to complain…there’s Greenselves on repeat or Beyonce? In life…there’s just fuss, haze, umming and drama. This part of my life i’m going to file under ‘BORED.’
Right now i believe that once my ‘had baby’ time has been ticked off. I’ll be happy, because pregnancy is sure as hell one ticket to*snoozeville.* It’s like this limbo place of ‘dolly dull,’ with waiting and sobriety. Yipppeee! *Yawns.* I mean, i’m so excited about getting it over and down with now, that you won’t even KNOW what has hit you, once i’ve popped it out. I’m gonna unleash the inner Puss with full force and glitter explosions and simply out of pure excitement. (Then get my tit out, like old Mother Hubbard to feed my poor child, mid-world take-over.) I’m wanting to hurry this along merrily because he competitive streak in me (*Hair-toss*) is not liking people thinking that they are over-taking me. Lol. I’m on a ‘having a bambino’ break and i’m still attemtpting to stilleto my way forward as fast as i can! I need to *pause* and have a sit down. HAHA. *Puts bra back on.*
Once i have birthed my ‘kitty cat’…i will ‘rum up’ and when i ‘rum up’…i am DANGEROUS! It will be *swagga* galore. (God, i can’t wait til i can have rum again ) I’m like a superhero that only runs on booze. I just need to learn to accept this ‘down time’ and embrace it fully and on Fanta. (The Devils Juice. What’s the point?) I’m filled with this fear that if i stop…everything will *stop.* That’s not neccessarily true. However i am assured by my good gay friends that sisters and misters may attempt to tip-toe past me. But by New Year my *Va Voom*..which is annoying and unbearable at the best of times, will blow all sneaky peekies out the merry water. (Excuse my behaviour. I’ve just commited to dancing to thug style music, like i was in a ‘feet stick to the floor’ club…but in my living room, whilst Jeremy Kyle was on. It’s made me all ‘i have a hard life’ and cocky…when really my life is like being gleefully raised in the air by delicious greek gods who shout phrases of worship, in their togas with big green grapes and feathered fans.)
Other than all that, i’ve been trying to teach Pete that kissing does not always have to lead to sex. If i kiss him (and i do a great deal because i’m a naturally affection dolly of birdy birdy,) his *dongle* points slowly upward and then he’s rushing me to the nearest flat surface for a bit of ‘Hows ya father.’ He needs to learn that kissing is kissing and sex is when i want a free dinner. I’m one of those weirdos that can’t *kiss* someone on the lips whole heartedly if i don’t ‘love’ them…yet for some reason i can bonk them
We had a bet on where he stated that i wouldn’t beable to find a normal job that i liked within a week…(after i was rambling on about how easy it is for people to get jobs lol.) Like i know? Anyway, i won the bet and simply by lying, chnaging the rules and booking a modelling job, stating that ‘modelling is a NORMAL job’ for me.
My prize is a ONE HOUR full body massage by Loverboy himself. (Ooooh.) The problem is, he’s sneaky and he will try to give me 3 minutes massage and 57 minutes sex. (That’s lies, he does about 22 pumps before he gives in.) In life, he’s the giving one of selflessness. In the bedroom, he’s the grubby little taker. I’m the giver. (We stick to our strengths, i guess?) Why can’t a boy just beable to give the ‘apple of their eye’ a simple back rub, without wanting something for themselves? They criticise young ladies for always being ‘want-want-want’…when really men give anything to have that power.
Bottom line, I’m not letting him *duck weave* his way out of my full 60 minutes. Sex can happen at 61 mintues. Yet until that time of alarm…he’s making like massure and oiling me UP.
I’ve been pretending to be Geordie all day. Yeah..no real reason other than boredom. I really do need to find something productive to do with my time? Maybe i should eat?
Just watching ‘Fearne & Betth Ditto’ before it gets to ‘What Katie Did Next’ which is what i really want to watch because ‘Ditto’ is putting me off my chocolate spread breadroll. I just want to give her a cuddle and a wash…so i can truely enjoy my chocolate spread filled breadroll from Morrisons.HAHAHA..okay now i think she’s hilarious, since she’s randomly sweeping Jared Leto (swoon) off a stage, mid-set and with a broom. This is why i need to drink again. ‘Heelllo whisky. Oh how i’ve missed you.’
Okay, so i’ve got a new Facebook account a very personal one that is ‘perv’ free. There are beings of the world who are confused by this? *I know not why?* My Facebook was disabled and instead of openning up my NEW account to the world…(there is a fan page)… i am only adding people i really know, or have talked to. I’m getting a whole bunch of inbox mail from the pervs saying that i can’t expect them to refrain from perving, when i have pictures of the *above* sort washing around Cyberland.
Firstly, i am aware of the pictures. I love them. I think they’re hot! I’m glad you love them too. Secondly, i can add whoever i want and whoever i don’t want on Facebook. It’s funnily enough, the actual way it works. Lol. Thirdly, i realize that the pervs are a responsible for a lot of my success very attention. HOWEVER, i’m not an idiot. I’m an easy going, playful girlie of candy land. Telling me i’m sexy on Facebook is one thing. That’s sweet and attention i am grateful for. Yet i was getting messages from random pervy strangers, by the bucket load a day which read things like, ‘I want to put my two fingers into you tight ass & tear it open until you bleed then fuck you by force, whilst you scream like a bitch.’ Now, you get it and know why i’m not adding people i do not know. I’m currently pregnant, emotional, and completely needing to stay as ‘love bunny’ as possible. It was draining me. And i don’t really care how ‘glamour modelly’ you are…you don’t deserve peopel talking to you like that. I’m a model, not a pornstar. I’m a blogger, not a pornstar. I’m off a reality telly show for children…i’m not a pornstar. I’m pregnant…have a little respect!
Now, i’m not done with the pervs, as i appreciate all adoration i can get. Therefore they can have the fan page and they can only communitcate with me via website message only. I don’t mind my gays being pervy. I love my gays I love all my fans. I love all the males, who leave me ‘you are sexy’ messages and everyone that stays respectful. Hence the new Facebook situation. Plus, i heard some of the pervs we’re pretending that they had had sex with me, in order to make their girlfriends jealous. I reply to everyone who writes to me personally, so they can pretty much show a girl a message and make some ‘dolly- bull’ up about how i adore them and won’t leave them alone. Me no Likey! *snatches the $50 back.* Now that doesn’t happen. I LOVE IT!!! I’m on chill mode, until i have my bambino. Then the Glamour puss will be back out in full force.
Talked to a couple of my gays last night. It was cute. One (by the name of ‘Deeva’) was giving me ‘if it’s a boy’ names and telling me how they were completely inspired by me, which as i always say makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside, like i’m actually making a deliciously tragical difference. I like that very much. I’ve been giving out responsiblities to my gays. (‘You’re in charge of naming it. You’re in charge of teaching it jazz hands. Oh! You can teach it drinking and french.’ ) The other bit of chatteroo was with m hot little piece of ‘EddClay.’ We were saving each other from the turbulance of love and life. I was sat in a Pontefract, fire placed living room, in a pink nighty, surrounded by kittens and he was in Cardiff, brushing his teeth, in glamourous student housing, incase he got a midnight kiss. We laughed at how mentally ill we could be. He put being ‘OTT’ and wanting his own way down to him being gay and theatrical. He actually found out that it’s simply because he’s a ‘fusspot.’ I’m quite OTT when i want my own way too…but mines mainly because i’m a massive spoilt floozy. [You can put bitch in there if you want. ]
Innit weird how we save love letters from old lovers. I do…well not all of them. But i have a couple that i store in a drawer. I must enjoy to remember that i was once (because they are of the past) loved. It feels good. I keep them. Only today i found that odd. I found that odd because as Pete was moving today, i wondered whether HE had saved any of his love letters? I wanted to rummage through his boxes, that looked light and little to see what i could find. If i did and if i found them i’d only cry…so i’m glad i didn’t. HAHA. I’m noticing that i’m the QUEEN of double standard. I mean, I keep the odd letter…and re-read them on lonely nights. ( I actually don’t have lonely nights anymore. I had shit loads in London.) Yet i would throw a GIANT tantrum if i had found out that the boy i’m dating had a box of ‘filled with love from exes’ keep sakes!! I’d go insane and only because it would make me feel like they weren’t over their past love. I like having a double stanard. It totally goes with my outfit. *Wiggle-wink.* (My Kitten Gucci, is being far too adorable for her own good. Wherever i go, she wants to go. If i’m in a certain corner of the room…she wants to be in it and cuddle me endless. Awww! I’m a softie with her and infact with most things i adore. I do keep having to keep a ‘lookout’ though, so i don’t accidentally stand on her with my stiletto. That wouldn’t be fun. Bit messy really!)
I love that i sat in an armchair today in a divine pink dress, re-lipglossing, in pearls as people hoovered around me. I want that to be my life forever. Ooh ‘What Katie Did Next’ is on! Must watch!!!
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