A Dress, A Dress. My Kingdom for a Dress!

Looong day. I’ve just returned home after a busy day of shopping for the perfect party dress, fit for a Glamour Puss with a drinking problem. I rose at 7am..(kill me…i hate mornings) and from that point onward i slipped into the sexiest of slick much kitten heels and darlings I FUCKING shopped…

Unfortunately i had to take trains. I’ve realized i spend a great deal of my life at smelly train stations, which i’m not quite partial to. It’s full of stares and ‘why are you wearing that fur in this heat,’ looks. (Please, i’m a Yorkshire/Hollywood bratt..i’m flippy dippy cold much.) My first train was delayed. I looked divine, therefore i didn’t care that it was fashionably late. The second was also delayed. The third...yep couldn’t make it. The fourth…ooh look CANCELLED! Now, i’m the worst when it comes to waiting and a grubby smoker, therefore…after really trying my hardest to be all patient and zen…i managed to swear a lot, *hair toss,* complain, pull ‘diva faces’ and after a Bimbo ‘huff n puff,’ strut off LOUDLY, like i was the Queen of ALL….train stations? I then totttered outside, fell off my own heels, figured i’d smoke a ciggarette (in my own tragic haze..oh and this is in Barnsley by the way.) Then like Wonder Woman herself, I saw a train…a random exciting looking one and like the champion that i am,  i rushed (which is a sloooow very glamourous saunter…i don’t *rush* for things, they can wait for Me and bring me wine, while they’re at it.) I leaped (just stepped like a normal human being) onto it…not knowing where it was destined to venture and made my way to…Meadowhall! ( I actually had the wrong ticket…but i didn’t even one bit care. I got away with it too because i have pouty lips, big boobies and a look that said, ‘don’t ever cancel 4 trains on me again!‘

Got to Meadowhall, and decided to shop to relieve stress. OMG! I hunted up, down, in, out, round and round and under things to find the purrfect dress. I’m going to the the ‘Christian Audigier’ event by the Billionaire Boys Club, in Leeds tomorrow and i want to make my mark on the north. I mean i’ve smeared a reputation all over LA and London, Leeds needs to get eased in. I couldn’t find a dress anywhere. I had people all over the centre helping me. Lol! It was like we were saving the children of Africa. (‘We shall find that slut a dress and raise awareness immediately!!’)

Anyway long story short my feet started to hurt, so i bimbo tottered into La Senza. (Last time i was in there, i took a business meeting on my Black Berry and annoyed everyone, between the D-F cup rack.) A beautiful lady grabbed me 4 little ‘numbers’…that were lingerie, baby doll dresses/nighties in my size. (I’m an 8/E cup..in there.) I tried them on, and i ADORED THEM. I mean, I’d wear them around my kitchen. (God, i’ll make a good mistress.) I picked one….a zebra print one, with hot pink bows…(Delicious..i know) and yeah that’s my event dress! I’m going in a fucking nighty….like a slag! I asked the lady if it was appropriate…and with a ‘wink’ and a nod, and a ‘if you’ve got it, then flaunt it,‘ it was parcelled up for me, spritzed and i was sent on my way. I mean who cares! I love it. Plus, i’ll be drunk…and therefore i’ll not at all be worried with the *shame* of it all.

I hope there’s lots of hot boys there tomorrow. I’m in the mood for a bit of ‘handsome.’ I’m feeling minx like and well my dears, we love me, when i’m at my finest! Anyway, after all the *hoo haa* i trained it to Leeds…(it took for ever) but i eventually got there, to meet a man called Jason in a black, top down car. I bbm’ed Harriet (who’s going with me tomorrow) the whole way there…she wanted to know if ‘bulemia was still in?’ I mean, i told her she was a deliciously ‘well boobied, size 8…who looked like the face of all posh booze.’ Harriet took that information…and decided she was never gonna eat again. (I was stuffing a cheese and pickle sarnie in my face that i bought for £2.49.) Harriets my new best chick friend…i don’t know many girls, I tend to spend my time with boys. (Wink-Wiggle.) Therefore i have to be nice to her, before she gets fed up with me. But i will tell you that she did puke on her own face. Haha. And i did emotionally abuse a pork sausage. AND she IS trying to set me up with ‘off the telly’ boys, with BIG ‘members.’

Met Jason…i looked rough under sunglasses. He looked quite Hollywood..but in Leeds ‘i own this town.’  It was yummy weather. He was in his black ‘top down’ car. I told him i bought knickers. We did an exchange. (Not a druggie one. A party membership card one, so i too can be a Billionaire Boy Bitch.) Then off i wiggled to my next destination.,,which was to absorb the city.

OMG…EVERYONE is HOT in Leeds!!! EVERYONE! There was eye candy EVERY, WHERE and i am NOT kidding. I could really be a proper slag in this town. I was outside, looking at my future, looking at the buildings, talking to Martin the tramp and telling him all about London. Then my vision was swamped by delicious men from all angles, all walks of life, all heights, weights, tans, and ooh laa. I almost collapsed. You do not even know!!  They were the hottest future arm candy, any girl could wish for. They looked all cosmo and trendy…and bitches i needed to fan myself down, LEAVE or take up public dry humping. (I opted for ‘Leave’..i mean, i always fan myself and well ‘dry humping publically’….that’s how i lost my virignity. Done! Done! I left!)

Trained it back to Ponty to meet my mum. Again other fashionably late being. I had wine in the meantime at Xscape. (Glamourous.) Then we purchased more uneccessary items, we had early dinner at ‘Pizza express.’ I loved it, but threw a tantrum out of exhaustion and because my Mother attempts to tell me what to do and tell me what to wear and TELL me what she doesn’t like about Me. I pulled a face…which scares her. (I’m evil.) Then we were friends again. Fear is your friend. Use it to your advantage.

Now i’m home, in my living room. I have to wash the weave, and tan. I’m extremely knackered. But i am LOVING my life! I just got called a ‘Gay Ninja Arab.’ This boy called ‘James’ fancies me, even though he’s broken up with his girlfriend for like one merry week. He calls me names to ‘woo’ me and thinks that I am him. 🙂 Infact before i went to bed last night, i told him to say soemthing nice to me (this was via FB chat) so i could ease into Dreamland. He said, ‘U are very pretty, despite the fact that you’ve just called me ugly.‘ Haha. I’m a nice girl. And note…i didn’t call him ugly. I’m not completely evil. I simply said i couldn’t judge his ‘attractiveness’ from ONE GOOD picture. (Boys always show me one good picture.) He claimed i judged his ‘attractiveness‘ on 1000 bad ones instead.

Here Kitty Kitty..i’ll blog later. I’ve i’ve…(oops, a bit of a stutter there…) missed loads out!