Linda Fucking Hogan

The worst has happened. So i was laying awake in bed, happily dreaming of sugar, spice and all things sexy. I was smiling away, cuddling myself (makes a change that i’m actually appropriately touching my body,) and hoping for over eyelashed fairies to make a random diamond baring appearance. I usually go through this 5 minute moment of ‘sweetness’ before i try to grubby handedly touch my ‘you know’ for a ‘uno.’ Usually some erotic thought of sexiness saunters into my mind, stirring on the ‘magic,’ that causes a ‘fiddley.’ Who the hell do you think breezes into my head, mid-sexy, pre-fiddle moment? No, not Ronaldo. No neither a muscle bound brute of a beast, but fucking Linda Hogan. Linda fucking Hogan. What? So now i’m sexually attracted to Linda Hogan??? How can this happen? But fuck it, it did. Not sure what that’s all about, yet when it comes to the old ‘buddha palm boogie’ it seems Mrs. Hogans does it for me. (It’s that bleachy blond, illuminous orange lipstick, wacker macker boob job thang.) Kill me! (Or send me pictures of her please. Hahahaha!Pronto!)

I’ve had a weirdly busy day today without me even knowing? It seems that once you’ve been on the telly people actually want to work with you, instead of slamming the door of rejection in your face. It’s been oddly amazing. I’ve had great news, a bundle of happy work emails, a few merry offers and non stop phone calls. I’m happy. I can’t believe it. The ‘no hoper’ is doing it again bitches! Hurrah! I hope this ‘land on my feet’ business never comes to an end. Yet, i’m confident that it won’t. (Haha.) It never does! Plus, i still had time to BBM flirt mid-work..which is now my favourite pastime. I told a boy that his penis resembled a ‘domestic pet, because it looks like something i can feed biscuits to and stroke to Barry Manilow.’ (Great pulling technique.) The good thing about being a girl, is the fact that you can pretty much say anything to a boy. As long as you’re hot and say the word ‘penis’ in there somewhere…they tend to adore you, whether you want them to or not!

I’ve been organizing my life today, my new ventures, my world and doing it in one fail scoop of my arm. (Whilst i’m writing this i have my gobby Mother, gobbing off like she’s the souped up on the crackola, so it’s kinda hard to concentrate! UGH! I’m really not interested in anyones day at work, other than my own. Like EVER!) Some parts of ‘life organizing’ i’m finding piss easy…like the flirting. Yet other parts i’m finding incredibly hard..like the ‘organizing.’ I’ve been trying to find a certain something (work wise) today, for a little adventure i intend to go on. But because i’m so use to everyone doing everything for me, it seems this getting things today and negotiating part of it all, is rather difficult. I’ve always been what they class as the ‘talent’ in this industry of ‘show.’ We don’t usually really have to do anything but ‘perform’ and even that’s when someone tells us to.

But anyway. I’m feeling good, powerful, sexy and still a bit of a delicious nuisance. I feel like this chick that you can never seem to plunge down. I swear you could kill me, and i’d just drag myself up, grab the nearest brick, smash it into your face, tweek your naughty nipple, give you the middle finger, then order the next round of drinks…but on your tab! I feel like Kung Fu Sheera! A dangerously giggly force of madness! A crazy lady with a purpose! Yet really i’m just kinda like that moment when you think you’ve stepped in dog poo, yet you look on the bottom of your shoe and it’s annoyingly not there. The smell still continues, so you have another look, then end up insanely wiping your shoe on the grass, until you believe it’s made a disappearance. MADNESS!

Jesus Christ how HOT is Enrique Iglesias! Fly me to Spain and drop this bitch off for dinner! (She cracks her glittery whip and rides to the moon on a giant sized stonker!! Hurrah!)

Chrissie Wunna

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