Chrissie: ‘I think i have a black person’s nose?’
Pete: ‘Why? Can you always smell chicken?’
I’m about to have steak cooked for me by my boy of ‘Lover lover.’ Here i am minding my own business, winking at my reflection in the glass coffee table and every so often getting up to give Loverboy, what i call ‘cuddlies,’ and all of this, only to turn around, find him with his willy out and whilst he’s mixing the garlic butter!!! If he’s dipped it in there, he’s dead. I mean, his already tastes like bhuna, nevermind a garlic buttery topping. (Ooh he’s passed me a carrot stick! He thinks i’m innocently blogging about our undying love. But i’m actually blogging about his dinky.)
Anyway, as some of you may know…Loverboy and I went to the same school. We refound each other after decades. We had the same French teacher, who would always make us sing a french ‘elephant’ song, whilst he played on the hand organ. Apparently, our French teacher (according to Pete) would take each of the boys into a small room, with his willy out and to jazz music? How did i miss out on all this? We all love a bit of french and pervy. Long story short…i turn around to do my dolly *shocked* face and Loverboy is pulling the front of his grey joggers down to have a look at his willy…but with the garlic butter in his hand, like some kind of dirty Ainsley Harriet. (Aww.. @GaryPonty has just tweeted me saying that whenever he sees me, he always wants to *squeeze* my nose. It’s apparently ‘button like.’ I have the nose of my father. It’s actually a joke within the Wunna family. I wonder why it’s black? And i wonder why i really can really actually always smell chicken?) Now, i’m getting passed carrot sticks that have chunks bitten out of them. HELLLOOOOO….i’m a germaphobe! His ‘jogger goblin’ probably munched it.
I don’t really have much to blog other than the fact that i’m having a really romantic night in, where my ‘handsome’ and I kiss, cuddle and say rather lovely things to each other, before yelling at the kitten for being needy. The steaks smell delicious. I could wipe myself down in steak forever. It’s my favourite. We bought them from a one eyed butcher today, who was utterly lovely to us, behind sausages, before we saw the midwife. Pete’s an excellent chef, so i let him cook whilst i’m preggo and because i CAN’T be bothered to cook. The last thing i cooked was for Paris Hilton…and it was a disco ball, with a raw butternut squash….oh and with a side of lipgloss for ‘afters.’ I think i made up some crap about how it resembled my personality. Then Carrie went and won the flipping challenge. We hated each other at that time. Then made up. It’s funny how a reality tv world is NOTHING like a real world. I guess, that’s what we like about it.
Anyway, i’ve godda go. I have red meat to eat, a human in my belly and a hottie to get cuddly with. Life’s pretty good, when you can have all of those things at once….plus a fan page. 🙂 It’s all about having everything. If i had one of the 3, i’d feel all half full. I think i’m just a Glamour Puss, who needs a bit of everything. Can’t wait to work on the book! Wazza is having his 30th birthday booze up on Feb 19th, when my bambino is due. We think she’s gonna squeeze out on his actual birthday the 16th..which in itself is creepy. Luckily, he’s made her a fake ID…so she can go on the razzle dazzle at 3 days old! Welcome to my world!