Bananas, Sailors and Cucumbers

OMG! I am working harder then ever. Not only have I been up since 4am! (Have you? Have you?) Yet, i have also indulged myself into the most bizarrely hilarious day imaginable.

I laid in my London appartment this morning, as my pink Black berry musically alarmed my ‘wake up’ and demanded that i get my schedule of work a started! Whilst you were fast asleep, dreaming of hunks in trunks and fairytales coming true (…and they do,) I was being tugged, eyelashed, smeared in tan, winked at, draped in diamonds, heeled and squeezed into a little zebra number, in the form of lingerie.

A car and driver picked me up from outside my appartment and off I went, all a stocking’d (wink-pout) to the studios, were I was greeted by a happy ‘Adrian’ and a beautiful girl named ‘Tiffany.’ We had coffee, then bitched about men who attempt to steal our money, and just like that, i found myself, groomed, pouting and laid merrily on a boudior bed, covered in red, and with tiny spotlights around it. (Oooh the Glamour! Shame i felt only half awake really!) I notcied that my ‘pad’/bed…whatever you want to call it, was covered in blond hairs. Now in make believe, ‘on the telly’ world, that’s okay. However, in  real life world….yeah that’s enough to get any man into shit loads of trouble.

Bottom line, i posed, i pouted, i had my nipples taped down, then after discussing ‘life’ with a bunch of deliciously voiced gentlemen, the clock struck 10am, i closed the show, leapt off my boudior pad of red red and tottered in my undies….( i do it like i’m clockwork) to a mirroe white dressing room, where i immediately jumped out of my kitty cat clothing of seduction and into a more conservative ‘about to get interviewed’ dress.

I had to be at Mind Studios in Bow (East London) by 11.30-12 noon pm. It was 10am and i was in Camden. I draped myself in appropriate pearls and bits od diamante’, heeled up, hair tossed, bundled all my stuff together, shoved it into a bag, told Adrian that i’m not so keen on horror movies (…and i’m not, i hate them, i don’t find pleasure out of being terrified,) then like the wind, i raced (slowly tottered) to Camden tube station, looking rather delicious even if i do say so myself, and jumped on the Northern line, that was (oh what a surprise) littered with perv a plenty! I didn’t actually mind though. I was far too busy. My mind was else where. I felt exhausted, starving , mildy ill, rushed and exhausted. Lol. (For someone that’s meant to be ‘taking it easy’ i’ve sure as hell been fooled into a ginormous work load.)

After a bundle (two…i don’t kno wwhy i’m exaggerating everything this morning,) i finally found myself in Bow, on Bow Road. I attempted to get a taxi to my destination, however once I sat in it, (with a knitted top that i had decide to wear over my dress to hide my boobies) the driver told me it was actually just around the corner. I hate being a twat! So i apologized and then with three mildly heavy bags, totter-heafted my way around the corner and down Fairfield Road, to Mind Studios, where i was lovingly sexually harassed by pretty much every gentleman, and then a guy who owned a studio wanted to ‘make me a star.’

Infact, i forgot to tell you yesterday, that when i arrived at Kings Cross, and jumped into my taxi to my London appartement…my taxi driver did the ‘you’re gorgeous’ thing all the way, took two pcitures of me on his camera phone, tried to make me do sultry faces…(as if…you PAY for my faces..lol) and THEN the cheeky bastard decided that he wouldn’t let me out of the cab, (like central locked it on Brecknock road) until i lifted my shirt up for him! WTF!! Afer 15 minutes of him pestering me…i still didn’t bother, and he eventually let mE out, after i diva kicked off at him. This is my life! I’m used to such Tom Foolery! Yeah, i laughed at first, but really any girl that isn’t used to such behaviour by men, would’ve been terrified. Men need to learn respect, like AS IF, you have the right to ask a girl in the back of your cab to lift up her top for you and show you her tits, because your wife doesn’t give you head. OMG! Men are gross! They never learn. Girls, women and kittens, don’t let them get away with being pricks! Even though i’m labelled ‘everyone’s favourite floozey’ and I have a decent sense of humour…know that I NEVER let boys…treat me in that manner and neither should you!

Now, where was i? Oh yeah, So at 1.30am, i got to the studio in Bow, called George who was meant to meet me, but couldn’t. I found the place myself, after purchasing a Lucozade to keep my engine a going, and trotted up the stairs to set. (I actually removed my knitted vest thing, at the bottom of the stairs, to reveal my sexual much dress. I don’t know why i actually bothered wearing it? It made no difference. It just made me look like a sophisticated girl…with big boobs! )

My next job of the day, was filming for Channel 5. You know how they do those documentaries on all sorts of subjects and people (open, mouthy people…who are often celebes, or normal funny kittens of deliciousness) discuss the subject in a humourous fashion…well i did that today! I actually accidentally walked in on someone fliming, saw a guy with a giant afro, who i remembered from somewhere, and then was escorted to a fushia coloured mirrored dressing room, where i re-applied and ate galaxy truffles, from a ‘celebrations’ box, until they called me to set! I was knackered, but didn’t tell anyone. No-one knew i had bene up since 4am, and i didn’t want them to! I was as fresh, as fresh could be, and was prepared to do my job marvellously. (When you’re knackered and you have more work to tend to, the best thing is to KEEP moving. DO NOT under any circumstances stop and rest. You will never recover.) I remember actually sitting on a high stool, all alone for a moment, in my dress surrounded by fushia and looking at my stomach, whilst rubbing it,  in my mirror reflection. Is it getting any bigger? I can’t tell?

The door busted open, the producer introduced herself to me, (Lovely she was) i was walked out onto set..after all the lights and cameras had been set up, and then i stopped looked at the ‘Afro guy’ that i remember noticing on entry, and said, ‘How do i know you? I KNOW i’ve seen you before??’

His reply: ‘Big house, in Hamstead, 12 other people, trapped, filming….pink, Paris Hilton.’  I suddently felt comforted! I smiled and with an ‘oh yeah’ laughed off my past! He worked the production on that show and it all came flooding back! I love meeting people i’ve worked with, Entertainment is a small small world. You bump into the same people over and over again! Everyone knows something about everyone. I throughly enjoyed re-meeting him.

I sat down on my chaise long, in the most perfect lighting imaginable. Then the prodcuer began asking me a series of questions and on the topic of sex! Samuel actually did one of these a while back, but on the topic of ‘celebrities.’ We discussed Sammie and how much i adore him. (Hmm…i wonder how he enjoyed Glastonbury?)

Now, i can’t tell you anything about it, or too much of what happened, or infact what i said. Yet i will tell you that it will be on Channel 5 in a week or so, and not only have i opened up about my sexy secrets, but i also did rude things to a cucumber with my mouth, and assured the entire production team that condoms that are BANANA Flavoured,under the false pretences that they are LEMON…are a no go! Under no cirumstances ever, safe sex or not, should a banana flavoured condom ever be in your mouth…when you think it’s lemon. I and one in my mouth this morning for the show…and yeah, not my favourite thing ever. My lips still taste of rubber and artifical banana flavour. My itnerview will be one of those things that i will blank out in the future. Lol. I can’t believe how honest i was!?! I need to stop! Something happens when a camera is put infront of me and i become this open, truth telling ditz! I don’t know whether it’s down to showing off, or the fact that i want people to learn about Me, or simply to *shock.* However, when a camera is put upon my being…i become alive. I’m quite good at it. If reality tv was a talent…it’d totally be mine! I’m a natural entertainer! (Something in this cyber cafe stinks and i hope it’s not me! I have my dirty knickers stuffed into my bag, because i didn’t know where to put them?)

Other than all that jiggery pokery…i then watched 1940’s sailors play with their willies, and have them injected, due to the fact that they were convered in std warts! Delicious! The producer wanted to see my reaction, so she played me a DVD. I bizarrely (but don’t tell anyone) found it mildly arousing. It was rotten sailor porn. I mean warts or notm they had willies and were playing with them. Don’t worry..i did do *shocked faces* as it did get a bit grim in the end. However, job well done. Infact, i did so well, the producer requested that i come back and do more of the series, but on all different topics!

When all was done, i signed my relaese form, put my knitted vest thing back on, whilst explaining to them why i had to do that. (It’s all about perv dodging!) Then mildly relieved, and still rather exhausted, i made my way back home to my appartment, where i not only got glared at by ‘handsomes,’ (It’s the heat, it makes them horny,) but i also bought myself a pair of FLAT shoes ( i know, KILL me..but my feet were killing me) and then treated myself to an ‘out of the blue’ massage! Never again! 🙂 I’ve just noticed that due to my work load, i haven’t eaten or slept properly ALL day! Not good!

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