Jogging, Pies & a Little bit of Rum

Went on a jog because i had pie. I was with a friend who looked like she enjoyed the odd 40 pies for lunch, with a side of… i dunno…people?? (Oh shut up, i can say that about her. Her nickname for me is ‘Whore.’) Infact her daughter (of 2..that she hasn’t got around to eating yet) told me that her only ambition in life was to grow up and be a ‘pie maker.’ (This is why i moved to Hollywood as soon as I turned ‘old enough.’)

So yeah, got distracted. I jogged!  But like i’ve said before there’s no actual jogging on my jog. I mean lets not get ridiculous here. I’m Glamour Puss, Chrissie Wunna, extrordinaire, in diamonds & furs. I done run for any-(excuse my french) -thing…but cold hard cash..(and even then, i make people run for me.)  My jog is merely a series of posing, pouting, and stretching on street corners…so that everyone can see me. But i’m i pretend i haven’t noticed that your looking. (TRAGIC! Be me!)

 I do run a little, but slowly and sexily until i’m out of breath and need a ciggie. Then when no-ones looking, (*sad face*) i scurry around a sneaky corner as fast as my poor shit legs can carry me, die a little, adjust my polka dot pink hair band, then down a shot of rum that i carry with me at all times. I did this today, but got mad at myself, as i had ‘jogged’ too far away from home. It was hilarious. My legs hurt so bad, i couldn’t even walk it back.

But anyway i had too. It’s quite tragic how on the way there i was all ‘ Look at me, i’m all tanned, tittied & IT girl Glamourous.’ Then on the way back, i was a disgusting hobbling mess of an unfit floozey, all out of rum and having to ‘swear word’ every 3 steps forward. I resented myself and hated any keep fit regime. Yet luckily i managed to find something to blame…and yes, that was my fat friend of a pie maker. Jogging is for losers!

Love you lots! Get JEDWARD in the JUNGLE!!!

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