Come Into My Garden….

‘I’ve only had 3 conversations with him, in my entire life!!! And two of those we’re during sex Wazza!!!!’

Morning all, i’m feeling delicious today. I honestly can’t believe how content i am. My being is a bubbling. I’m excited!! I have no idea why, yet i’m going to give the credit to the countryside. Waking up to chipper chirping birds, seems to be largely more theraputic than waking up to sirens and swear words. It’s a beautiful day in Yorkshire today. I’ve had a stroll around the gardens, feeling the wind on my face and looking into the sky. (Even though my eyes don’t work.) It really does feel good and is completely changing my ‘ooh laa.’ I mean, a few days ago i was peeling myself off a club floor, stumbling down a busy London street at 5am, with a title of ‘slag,’ whilst getting thrown out of trendy clubs for ‘bashing.’ ūüôā Now,¬†i feel like a Goddess. One that is almost untouchable. Yorkshire reminds me of LA. They’re a lot more simplier than you would think. Wide open spaces. I likey!

Then i was told I was allergic to¬†my fake tan lotion. Unfortunately i was told this AFTER i had smeared it all over my body. No wonder i have lips like guppy fish? There’s me thinking ‘oooh who needs collagen, when your a glamour glamour puss?‘ *Places diamonds around neck* However, it’s far less delicious. I have a disease. I’m allergic to my tanning lotion. Next my face will swell and no-one will want to make out with me. (Who am i kidding…i have tits…everyone will.)

I’m watching a woman on tv, who is married to the ‘Britains Most Unromantic’ man. What a title! Lucky girl! Hahaha. Poor Darling. I don’t know how she lets him get away with that, but it does humour me. When everyone else is getting their hand gently held in¬†a moment of¬† ‘i love you.‘ (Which as we all know, truely means, ‘YOU are MINE bitch!’) That poor lady, is getting locked in a cupborad and told to make 22 bacon butties¬†after being¬†farted on. But apparently it’s ok, because the people at ‘This Morning’ have FORCED him to wear a shirt and give her a tiny crystal teddy bear. But we all know that when she gets home, she’s gonna get a ‘back hand.’

I literally woke up giggling today…i was like a cutesy, winking, wiggling….lunatic. I hid under my sheets, like i was mentally ill and played ‘peek a boo’ with myself?? What is happening to me? Where’s my fucking wine!!!!?!!! This place is like rehab. I haven’t had a drink in…omg if you can’t remember the last time you had a cocktail, you’re doomed. (I think it was…yesterday?) I then text my Wunnerettes. (The little girls that i mentor.) I did it sober today, so i was nicer than usual. However, i think i’m doing an alright job? I mean, one girl on Twitter¬†informed me that I tell her that i ‘LOVE’ her more than her own Mother. LOL. I am apparently the reason she knows she is beautiful. (Awww…. I love it much much. There you go…proof that i’m AMAZING!)

¬†We as women are BEAUTIFUL. We are the object of everymans desire…don’t let them tell you any different, they try to, but i have none of it! I’ve noticed that a great deal of women sell themselves short. Don’t bother. Tell men what you want and need. When you do…they listen. I’m as feisty as they come…and really it’s never done me wrong. When i’ve been pathetic and all ‘i’ll do everything you need’ they move that inch and take a mile. The less you give, the more they want to do for you. They’re men. They’re meant to have the HUNTER in them. If not…then pack them a bag and send them onto the next sorry soul. *Hair toss*

I still haven’t booked my hotel for Liverpool yet! I’m doing it today. Mark Byron and Natalie Rooney have been helping me, via the art of Cyber land. I can’t wait to get extensions tomorrow. I’m getting my few extra inches sewn in, in Doncaster. My glorious town of birth.¬†Hopefully, it won’t take long? I mean i’m going in the morning to avoid the crowds.

¬†‘Lashes’ messaged me last night.¬†I haven’t heard from him in weeks.¬†Then a different boy text me with the words, ‘Hey, i really want to meet up. Are you okay with keeping it casual for now?’ Aside from those boys, because i do know them and have met them. I’m going through this bizarre phase, where men around the world are pretending that I am their girlfriend…which quite frankly is ruining my real love life. I’m flattered…However, it’s one thing to point at me and say ‘I’ve had that.‘ (Geezer! Geezer!) And another to actually utterly¬†believe that¬†i am your real life girlfriend and declare it to the world, when i’ve actually never had the utter pleasure of meeting¬†them…like ever. Lol.¬†There’s really no need to do that fellas.¬†Just build a shrine and worship me…it works better. I will be there in Pussy Cat spirit.

I have a lunch to get too…. Ciao x

2 thoughts on “Come Into My Garden….”

  1. i will come in to your garden whenever u want looking like that miss wunna oh my days i love your thrupneys and your storys are jokes have a great time in liverpool and a mustard valentines day treacle


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