I’m out right refusing to eat ANYTHING named a ‘Bombay Bad Boy.’ Firstly, i despise Pot Noddles. Secondly, i am quite certain i despise Pot Noodles which are the flavour of a ‘Bombay Bad Boy,’ and thirdly…it doesn’t matter how one disguises the Bombay bad Boy, i will always KNOW when i’m being tricked into eating it. I mean, who named that? I get that’s it’s meant to be all fun, and edgey etc…but it sounds like a Bollywood Pornstar. Would you eat it? It’s like naming something a ‘Singaporian Slag.’ You might be humoured by it, for a good 4 minutes, but you certainly don’t want to put it in your mouth! Bottom line, call me a Diva (nd i get that there are starving children of the world, who would give anything for a Pot Noodle,) i’m not eating ANYTHING called a ‘Bombay Bad Boy,’…..well not in noodle form anyhow! 😉 Saying that, if Pot Noodle offered me an endorsement deal, then ofcourse, i would smile, nod and lie. 🙂 That is the ONLY way, i will ever be forced enjoy a pot of noodles of that flavouring.
Anyway, i’m back at the Cyber cafe. I’m knackered. It’s freezing. I’ve worked all day and i have two delicious Chrissie Wunna Fans sat next to me, of little girl form..who i am letting watch me write this piece of ‘oooh.’ I am completely exhausted and my flu, that i tried to postpone, has hit me big time now. I’m all kinds of dying, but it’s funny. At least i’ll shuffle off this mortal coil…in fur.
Fan Phone is going far better than expected. It’s bizarre. Last night i recieved the most magical callers from all over, by peoples from all different walks of life. Some happy, some sad, some needed to talk things out with me. I’m beginning to learn a lot about myself from it also, which mildy creeps me out *adjusts boobs* (God my nipples are like machine guns right now. fake boobies are not good in cold temperatures.) But picture this…a gentleman getting his weekly shopping, y’know grabbing a few bits and bobs in Asda i believe it was, stops for a second whilst he’s waiting out the cashier and decides to call my Fan Phone. A few minutes afterward, a young treat of a boy named ‘Luke’ who i wished good luck to for his exams, (he wants to be a forensic scientist or a cake baker) is leaning on a phone counter in a Tescos in Peterborough (i think) and in a moment of ‘ooh laa’ decides he’s going to ring ‘Fan Phone.’ An gentleman of the age of 51, in the courier business, is sat at home alone, listenning to reggae, and needs someone to talk to…a dn in a moment of ‘Why Not’ he decides to call fan phone. I’m loving it. In the movie of my life (haha here i go) i’ll be sat at home in my pj’s ( found myself completely naked, in ugg boots, holding a broom last night…2010 has got to get better than that) and well all these people, all over the nation, in the simpliest of placest, be it a supermarket, their own home, a school yard, a cementary (Yep i had one of those calls) all pause for a weird 3 seconds and have a moment where they look at their phone and dial. I don’t know why i find it so magical? But i do…
The sad thing about it all, and i said i wasn’t going to blog this, but i have to now, since it happened on 3 seperate occasions in one night. Well, 3 different women called, each of them believing i was having an affair with their partner. They wanted to actually speak to the ‘other woman’ so to speak. I obviosuly have never ever slept with their partners, noe had i ever met their partners, but for some reason they were convinced i had??? Bizarre right. A lady who was puttuing her child to bed called. A young girl who cried down the phone to me in heart break. A really really posh lady, who just needed to talk it al out with me called and well it sort of made me realize the different kinds of impact i am making on peoples lives..and not all of it’s good. I felt awful. But after speaking to each of these woman….they could breathe again knowing nothing had ever happened. This Fan Phone thing is getting harder and harder.
I’m learning a lot, and i’m learning it fast!