Eye Spy and a Trip Back To London

Just got out the shower, currently stroking my 8 kittens, had pom poms attached to my boobies almost 3 minutes ago and finished off a conversation with my Mother about boys and how i should go about finding the right one. My Mother truely worries about me and my ‘feisty,’ rather ambitious ways. I remind her of her…and it humours me that it terrifies her. On Decemeber 19th 1980, she squeezed out a ‘Glamour Puss,‘ and after having to watch her ‘fruit’ go through a delicious ‘wiggly woo’ of all kinds of big big trouble, my Mother’s pretty worried. I mean, she believes my ambitious ways, and hunger for power and world domination, will very much get in the way of my love life. Apparently men don’t enjoy a more powerful woman, or a high earning one and right now, i already have Men simply quite terrified of becoming my ‘other half,’ incase one day i hurt them. (But’sTherefore, in the merry end (and when i am, where i want to be)… I’m told it will be a million times worse! I think she believes i’m gonna have to make a few sacrifices, if i want to score a ‘Happily ever after.’ (I put my ipod on halfway through the conversation, therefore i only got the gist of what she was going on about. I’m not a good lip reader. I *kiss* lips. I don’t bother reading them.) UGH, more than anything, i fancy smooching the boy i went to visit in Liverpool, right now. Best kiss much.

Tomorrow, i have two sight tests to tend to, which i’m not really excited about. I have bad eye sight. I hate it. Yet, the thing that is annoying, isn’t the ‘can’t fucking see at all’ part and more the fact that i ‘can’t fucking see at all’ infront of the HOTTE

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