So i’m buying super absorbency tampons, make-up remover and a pink toothbrush. A random drunk dude swigger-swaggers up to me, who kind of looks like he had one eye, (i’m not scared of drunk men, it’s the sober ones that creep me out) and goes on to offer his pretty self to Me on a plate. Okay, I’m use to people coming up to me on the street, people staring at Me, and boys hitting on me whilst i’m buying tampons, it’s just become my life now…but he was so incredibly McDrunky that half way through following Me, and chatting Me up, he passes out mid slur…into an iron basket of 49p sponges, (haha) and ends up having to get fireman lifted by security out of the store. GREATNESS!!! I laughed my head off, yet unfortunately looked so happy that a homeless couple (the proper grubby sort, looked like they just had soil for dinner) decided life with Me would be a sheer delight.
OMG!! I gave them ALL my spare change, and quite Playboy bunny sweetly said ‘Have a great Christmas’…only to have them FOLLOW me everywhere i went from then on, like they were my new family. I mean, it was like ‘Chrissie feeds the fucking homeless day,’ today! Jesus! It was so awkward that i eventually had to tell them to ‘GO AWAY!’ And i think they thought i said, ‘Please do stay with Me… forever.’ I gave them so much money, (well about £2.54) yet they just wouldn’t bollock off. They followed me into stores and everything!! I mean what did they need me to give them…my eyes, my heart, my fucking hair extentions!! (Notice how ‘heart’ came before ‘hair extentions.’ Tragic!) It was hilariously bizarre! I kept making them sing ‘ I wish it could be Christmas everyday.’
Luckily, i got saved by a hot girl who saw me in some magazine or something, and wanted to curl my hair for free to again, at her stand…to attract a crowd. We had LA in common, so i felt at home. She asked Me why all the girls in Doncaster were ‘sluts..who have 4 children by the time they’re 15 and could she be my personal hair stylist??’ During my reply…i realized my entourage of homelessness was being hoisted away by mall security, for stealing batteries. (Hahaha!) Then all the children in line to see Santa found themselves not bothered about him anymore, and wanted their hair curled instead, due to my phenominal hair modelling skills. Not really, Santa apparently was ‘feeding his reindeer.’ (Code for ‘whacking it in the toilets to portable pornography.’) But all his Elves did come and pay me a visit, which made my day even more surreal. (I’ve been an Elf at a Santas grotto before…and not a hot one, like a proper fucking full on Elf, with the ears on and everything!! I felt their pain, and bought them all marshmellows.) They read my blog. I love them. (But not really!)
The commercial for ‘Paris Hiltons British best Friend’ has just come on. We LOVE it. We want to see it. Why? Cos i’m ON IT!! (Shameless plug, shameless plug.) I feasted on Dim Sum today for lunch, with my family… at a little secret restuarant i like to go to. The waiters always order my food for Me. I like that! There’s nothing like sweet meaty balls to soothe the tormented soul. ‘Dim Sum’ means ‘to touch your heart’ or something like that anyway?? I don’t really care to much about ‘meaning.’ I just want to stuff them into my face all at once, and talk about Myself for an hour…with my mouth full. Then i saw a team of ‘Hell’s Angels’ (or just men on bikes) zooming past dressed as Santas and Penguins. I was born at this time of year. How was i supposed to understand normality???