Today has gone exceptionally well, even if i do say so myself. I’ve had a delicious dinner, Jay (From
SClub Juniors) and Boyband Jonny (who is refusing to tweet) have tried to manipulate me into breaking my packed of not going out, yet i *fanned myself* and resisted temptation. They’re like the devil boys those two. They wait until i try and better myself and then hack away at my ‘party’ weakness like boyband swaying, air punching, dance, 8 count, imps, on crack. Also, I’m upset at my poor choice in blow drying dolls. I mean they did a great job. I’m highly grateful. However, like i said, I enjoy a Hollywood curl, a Volume of utter Pussy Galoreness. My hair suggests that i may own a heated egg roll cart in Soho on Wednes days and not even by a ‘Peep’ show.
This is why you must always let gays do your hair. They see the vision of ‘delicious,’ the over the top glamour that you try to perfectly paint. They see the ‘Va Voom,’ the magic, the feathers, the diamonds, the disgusting amount of ‘oooh laa’ that needs to be dripping away like pure glittery gold from your entire delicious soul. I let a nice lady do it. And yeah..great job. My hair looks…nice. *Grabs heated cart* I want MORE! My hair is not fit for Wunna land and i am the lady herself! (Why is there sperm on the back of my cigarette packet? Oh! It ‘damages‘ sperm. Luckily i don’t have any. Awful looking things. However, saying that, it is odd, that at one time i was a mere ‘wiggle’ of sperm, being shot out of my Fathers ‘meat stick.’ He smoked. Look what he created! ME!!! (Make what you will, of that!) I can’t believe i survived that wiggly race to become ‘baby-fied.’ Who am i kidding? Course i won. I beated those other bitches out the way with foul language and a need for stardom. They probably ended up on a tissue and got flushed down a loo. * Losers* ) I love where my blog takes me. Haha..! From hair do’s to sperm on a delicious breath of a whim. I’m going to get into very big trouble, by my family for talking about my fathers ‘meat stick.’ We’ll get them threats from the Buddhists again. Last time, they called me a ‘slag.‘ Which might i add…isn’t really very Buddhist of them, now is it? I do love them deeply. I only wish they loved me back. *Grabs sack, ready for hate mail.* Sorry Mum. 🙂
I feel right on cue, career wise now. I don’t think being in London does me any favours. I’m easily distracted by party and eye candy and yeah I’m constantly needing to be reined down…But i’m on my way up, due to a new found discipline.Living in London is actually harder than living in Hollywood. But I’m learning from life and it’s truely what i believe, is the only thing that any one ‘being’ can learn from. Life and people. Watch everyone around you. Observe how they act, what they do right, what they do wrong. Learn what works for you and commit to it. I am always watching…even when you think i’m not. I observe EVERYTHING and try to talk to as many people as possible. And it’s not actually to network. It’s actually to get to know them, and find out what makes them tick. Whether they be a movie star or a homeless person. (*Flashback* of me slapping my boyfriend of the time and screaming at him in Los Angeles for trying to hit on a homeless lady! He laughed and assured me he was giving her a dollar. I think i shouted ‘ Haha…Good times!) Oooh phones ringing… I said give her a fucking dollar, NOT ask for a FUCKING blowjob.’
..ok, i’m back. I have to work on Saturday now. ALL DAY, until 5pm. I’m gonna be knackered. Anyway, what i was trying to say before was? Oh yeah…you can’t expect people to be interested in your life…if you do not take a common interest in theres. I say it all the time. People never listen. But that’s fine, you can just let me take ALL the stars out the sky. Even the ones with YOUR name on them. 😉 Ouch!
Other than that, my Black Berry ball jammed up again today. Annoying. I couldn’t read my bbm’s, or scroll downward. I complained on Twitter about it all and my my, you all (my lovely Followers of sexuality) came up with the most ‘ooh laa’ remedies to help, this little tragic pussycat. Yippee! I love you for it! I believe i was told to ‘blow’ on it. I have previously been told to put vodka on it. I was also told to take it apart, leave it, rummage with it, sternly tell it off…however i did it my way and went with seducing it. Hurrah! Now it works! I didn’t buy this ‘rack’ for nothing! A bit of dirty talk loosens any tight ball.
I’m being beckonned….i must go kittens x