Gorgeously yummy day in Yorkshire this morning. I’m kinda in the middle of fields, behind an apple tree (hahah random i know…and i’m not even getting felt up) and it’s actually one of the most calm, crisp, sunny afternoons. It’s like ‘pinic with a hottie’ weather. I wish? Well i guess i could actually make that happen, if i wanted…yet the ‘reality’ of the situation, would scrape the ‘glitter’ from the ‘fantasy.’ Have you noticed, that fantasies are never quite as magical, when they venture into your reality! I’m always worried about that when people meet me.
Now don’t get wrong, i’m all for magic and dreams and i’m a little lady actually LIVING her fairytale. Infact, i wouldn’t have it any other way. I completely love my life and i’m celebrating it with boozey streamers and everything. Yet, to be honest nothing much has changed. I can now buy more things, more people know who i am. I’m worshipped a little more (i do love saying that,) but more importantly i’m doing the job that i always wanted too. Everything i’ve said i’ve wanted to do…i’ve done and everything i’ve done surprises people. Yet really, the only difference between me and another girl with a dream, is that i plonked on the right pair of heels, put my ‘brave face’ on and did it. It’s wonderful having a dream. It’s even better turning it into a reality.
Hundreds of people do it everyday (make a dream come true) and it makes me fill with ‘ooh laa.’ I moved to Hollywood, on my own, as a young girl, with nothing but a suitcase, in order to make my dreams come true. I found my footing, my life, my world and made it ‘magic.’ If i can do that…then anyone can. And yeah, it was a deep emotional struggle. But i fucking did it and now my bruises are things i look down upon *giggle* at. I’ve lived! Done everything wrong. Done everything right! Everything…like i’ve been in really big pickles!! (Kidnapped, trapped and handcuffed to a prostitute. To sipping Martinis at 22 with Leonardo Di caprio.) But I’ve come out the other end with a smile and an irrepressible ‘shimmie’ of ‘happy.’ But more importantly today is pancake day…so lets cut the crap and get talking IHOP. I love banana pancakes! Gimme! Gimme!
Wazza’s birthday today. One of my oldest friends. We went to school togther. As a child, (in a Quaker boarding school) he bought me a Peter Andre doll, a Yellow Teletubby bag, a watch that cuckooed and threw me out of a window from a great (one story) height. Later on in life, (when i married Mikey and resided with him in Los Angeles.) Wazza pops around from England, (like ya do) convinces my hubby that disobedience is the way forward. Goes on to convince him that doing the dishes, is not a priority in any mans life and that pancakes at IHOP are a much MUCH better option…because it would aggravate me. THEY FLOODED MY FUCKING KITCHEN. I remember going insane…and in hot work out clothes. (I just wear them…i don’t work out.) Therefore this morning, i greeted him via text, by ofcourse wishing him a ‘now you’re old’ happy birthday, followed with a THREAT of flooding his kitchen, simply because it was pancake day! I’m going to blame him for ruining my marriage. Instead of ME, for being a…slag. 🙂
Other than that, (i’ve had a few phone meetings this morning..i also did a one hour shoot ..aaah it’s a hard life) i was going to commit to playing ‘Olympic Dating’ with a friend of mine in Manchester. All the game is really, is putting on the Winter fucking Olympics (which i hate…I’m not sporty. I like girly things like reality shows, 90210, come dine with me and *sparkle.*) Then we commit to being disgustingly pervy. We watch it and hope that there will be men in tight lycra, shorts or swimming trunks. I do love a handsome, well bodied male. Then we pervely *swoon* over them, until we get bored. Whooopie! I love being a Glamour puss!!! (A bunch of people found my site today, by Google searching the words ‘PussPuss.Cum.’ Classy!!)
I feel flirty today, and a wee bit amazing. It’s the sun. I’m on top of the world!! I’m a legend! I love life. (*Don’t touch Me.*) However, i went on Facebook, to do my little ‘plug plug-let me FORCE my life on you’ bullshit and 37 chat boxes popped up, within a space of 11 minutes and ALL of them wanting to talk dirty. Ewww! Grow up!! Men are gross!! I had to feisty kitty YELL at one last night, who hailed in at 50yrs old and thought he could *tricky trick* The little Wunna Doll! Don’t be so ridiculous! I’m way ahead of the game old man!! Men (not all of you) are constantly insulting my intelligence. *Grabs her purse.* I’m extremely familiar with the male species. I know them like the back of my hand. (At times i forget i do…but it just takes a *shake* and i’m back in the game, with vixen eyes.) I have tremendous experience with having to talk to boys on a daily…. in the tens and all at one time. I’m actually less confident around women. He kinda just made me want to do a sick. *Beckons mignon for bucket.*
I’m gonna go take a break. I’m doing my face, so i can frolock in the garden gleefully. Whilst i’m gone, enjoy my boobs! I’m answering your questions today, therefore send them in, if you so wishy! I talked to little Jonny today. I’m missing him, because i’m so used to having him around and yelling at him…It’s weird, him not being near me? I’m always wondering what he’s up too? I honestly couldn’t have asked for a better connection with a boy. I guess we’re misunderstood people. But all that matters is that we understand we each other. A good solid friendship. Right now he knows me better than anyone. What i like about him, is that he knows me internally and was always interested in Me internally. We don’t have a friendship that’s based on our external qualities! You all need a friend like that! (I like ‘sclub Junior Jay’ too. Great memories! Love life. *Pout*)