Corona, Love, Laughter & London


I’ve been working really hard and even more than i’ve actually been working ‘it.’ (Hurrah! Don’t worry, i’m not slacking. I’m merely attempting to *heave-ho* myself up another rung of the Greatness ladder. *Wink-Pout-Leg extension.*) I’ve also been thinking quite obsessively much, which is bizarre for Chrissie Wunna, as i’m an ‘ACTION‘ girl, and never really a chica to waste merry time on the ‘..if only.’ When Glamour Pusses with brains, boobies, eyelashes and a side of boldness, ‘think’…we actuully become lethal!!  (The word *boobies* makes me giggle.) Right now, i’m dangerous, and oh sooo a *sizzle* that you could hold a hot poker up to my ooh laa, and it would bend away in fear that i might out *Va Voom* it AND on the day of God!! *Hair toss-Hair toss- Loses her Bible!* (I actually wrote all this last night , with pen & paper, when i was bored and crying…so bare with me. I woke up feeling AMAZING, so now i’m finding it funny!!’ let me take you back to last night…this is what i wrote by my window.)

I’m sitting in my rather too white appartement, all alone, but happy and wondering why I don’t want to drink the Corona that’s standing right infront of me? It’s stood there, on my pine wood desk, all straight, and brave, like a soldier of temptation…with it’s delicious wet goldeness all a *tease.* Well, i’m saying that I don’t want to drink it, but the truth is, I do. (My room smells like orange Airwick by the way. Does ya head in after a while!)

When i CAN’T do things, i’m one to pretend as though I never wanted to do them in the first place. 🙂 It’s actually not even out of petty pride, (and OH I have my pride,) yet more out of needing to Kitty elbowt he ickkiness’ of not being able to have something that I want, directly out of my mind! *ZAP.*We’re all positive  and ‘Ooh laa’ in Wunna Land and well I KNOW that the only way to get ahead is by cutting out the soul munching darkness OUT and letting the good-times..*WOOHOO,* their way IN!! (In more ways than one. *Wink-wink-thrust!*

I honestly can’t drink it, simply because I can’t get the cap of it! Lol. It’s been like a Circus! I mean whre’s the big, bald, butch man, with a face like a bulldog, who adorns a Union Jack Uni-tard, dumb bells and ‘..I can open Corona bottle with my teeth’ when you need him? [Cue Circus Music..and not the Britney Spears version. I mean the one where clowns fall over themselves.] I swear that i have been up, down , round and round, trying to monkey claw the cap off that bitch! I’ve tried to used lighters, claws, pens, kitchen ware, mind games, winking, back bends and basic shouting to get the cap off my Corona! UGH! I hate my stupidity at times! Like why buy a beer, when you have NOTHING to open it with! I’m going insane! Yipppeeee!

Now, let me tell you…I’m the kinda girl who will trot off to the supermarket, buy a baby abundance of non-essential crap, choose ‘une bouteille de vin’ or ONE delicious ‘cerveza,’ (I know how tri-lingual of me) and yeah I do mean the emphasis on the ONE! I once had a seriously hilarious alcoholic boyfriend in Los Angeles. Mexican he was! He’d go to the store and buy 3 six packs of beer and within approximately 21 minutes, he would have consumed each and every one of them! After seeing that moment of jiggery pokery, it kinda made me only ever want ONE and simply because i didn’t want to end up trying on my own Brazil dress, in heels, with a beard…then falling all over my own clumsy feet, whilst swearing in the form of Speedy Gonzales. Terrifying experience! He was a grown 6 foot tall Man, in my dress and drunk. Not pretty…even in a slanted mirror.

The only six packs I enjoy or the ones that are laiden upon yummy *hunka chunka’s* who tell me I have beautiful eyes. The ones that utter ‘Drink me’ are ones that I can afford to save for a lonely Wednesday evening, when i’m forty and really only to prove that ‘i still got it.’ (Hmm..some spotty teenage boys have just yelled *EXCUSE ME* at my window, making me turn around and *look.* When i did they backed away shyly with a ‘Woohoo’ and a ‘Whoa.’ Now, i’m unsure as to whether the ‘WHOA’ was out of fear…or because i was so delicious?’ The word ‘Whoa‘ is so 1991. I shouldn’t really call them spotty. I mean when they’re older they might be hot and if they are they;ll sure as hell find themselves on the otherside of my pillow, or carrying my bags. 🙂 )

Okay, so my stay in London has this time been delightful. I feel alive, and happy and filled with hope. I just have this feeling like all my dreams are about to re-come true and when i feel that way, i feel unstoppable. I can’t believe how far i’ve come from being a lonely, tragic kitten in Hollywood, struggling so hard just to survive let alone *make something of myself.*

I’ve decided that Coronas are fun, yes. However really in these heels (and i won them by getting my jubblies out for Paris Hilton)…i could get into far more worthwhile trouble. *Thumbs through Little Black Book-Sighs at the sad selection.* The fact that i’ve just had another poor attempt at opening my Corona bottle means i must obviously been lying to myself! Ignorance is bliss! Go forth in denial!!

I will tell you again..that yeah I did write that blog in my appartement last night on pen and paper. However, I MUST add that after 2o minutes of shouting, laughing, crying and scratching my head. I put on a semi-slutty outfit. (I didn’t go too far, as I wasn’t really in the mood for being man handled by strangers and let me tell you, the boys are ON it right now. I can’t even beat them with sticks without them still smiling! Ugh.) But anyway, yeah, i adorned a slutty outfit, walked to my local corner shop,which is a Co-Op, run by MEN. I looked around and acted all bewildered. Then when one of the boys asked me what was so *sad face* wrong?..(Heeheehhee) I decided to ask whether they sold bottle openers?? He unfortunately said ‘No,’ yet felt so bad that he was letting a pretty girl down, ( I milked my dolly downward lips,) that he told me that if i went home and brought my bottle to the shop, he would open it for me, with his own bottle opener that he keeps behind the counter! Awww!!

So I glamour pussed out slowly, then LEGGED it around the corner, when i was no longer in sight! ( I have no shame.) I finally got back to the shop, looking like an alchy with my Corona Bottle in hand, and with a *wink* he eased it open merrily. I smiled, i shouted *Thankyou* and jumped up and down gleefully ( I added Boobie movments out of gratitude.) Then an ofcourse, he demanded a hug for his service! I gave him one, (and a hug..crap joke,)  but when i did he got all shy and blushed. Awww Woohoo! I told Loverboy about my *hug* and he was mildly disturbed that my boobs may have touched that Corona openning gentlemans chest! (‘Yes, but did your boobs touch his chest Chrissie???’) See life is Wunnaful, if you simply just let it be! When i had my Corona opened, I didn’t want it anymore. Lesson learnt.



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