Getting yelled at loads today. I’m always merrily getting into trouble for no real reason and it doesn’t really bother me, like i said, i’m so use to it now, that it’s merely a ‘shrug-hair toss and an i’m sorry.‘ Nowadays i only get yelled at because of my blog, everything else i do, gets applauded. However, once again it really doesn’t bother me, as i only ever get yelled at, when it’s doing really really well. I’m a controversial young lady, i get that. I stir your emotions.Yet i believe all the ‘GREATs’ have been somewhat controversial. I’m one of those ‘love me/hate me’ types, but i always stand my ground, without meaning to. What people don’t realize is that i’m inspiring and helping others around the whole entire world. I get mail on a daily, with people telling me their problems like i’m their best friend and it feels good to be on a baby sized platform, because my words…well my life, can help people through theres. I live my life openly. I tell you parts of my truth and i do it, so it can either bring a smile to your face, or you can learn from it, as i know someone somewhere in the world will be going through the same ‘i’m so tragic’ thing. Look deeper. It’s amazing what you will find. Or dont? And just keep wasting you time on being angry.
Anyway, i dreamt of Ronaldo last night. But he had his foot in my face? Not being funny or anything, but even my dreamland is fucked up. It can’t even make my dream of Ronaldo somewhat saucy. I mean what’s the point in dreaming of a ‘yum yum’ like him, if your not being a tad bit kinky. We were sat by a fireplace, and he put his barefoot IN MY FACE. That was all! (Oh! Not that foot. You mucky swines.) Pointless, much?
I had red wine last night too. It’s my Kryptonite. I should’ve even be telling you this. But i can really drink anything, vodka, tequila, JD…anything. Yet as soon as i have red wine (only red)… that’s it i’m trollied. My ex-boytoy Ryan found this out in LA and he would claim it was my ‘truth serum.’ I will tell you ANYTHING on the red vino. It kinda makes me a bit aggressive too after one glass. I start throwing things around and getting all passionate about nothing. Which sometimes isn’t a bad thing, in the right outfit. (Wink…purr.) He’d play his guitar and i’d foolishly bring out a bottle under the stars on my balcony. Then he’d try and find out if i loved him?? Hahaha… I miss him? I wonder whethers he’s still all lost? He’s like Little Bo Peep, who never found his sheep. Everyone used to think we were these ‘predators.’ Yet we were both honestly really soft, kind and loving. Odd how we got so misjudged?? I think that’s how we orignially became close. I remember him in a tux, at a red carpet anniversary party. He had a tray of champagne (he was a waiter) in his hand and i saw him ask a friend ‘Jamie’ whether i was a good choice. Jamie’s gay and therefore went ‘ I fucking love her…GO FOR IT!!’ As i walked past him, he followed me and when i turned around to look at him through random american soapstars and drunks (well it was really to just grab booze!!) He stopped, looked at me all dreamy and magical and whispered, ‘You look beautiful.’ We were arm in arm that whole entire night. I ended up falling over with two champagne bottles in my hand. Now i think about it…it was the only time he was brave.
It was ages ago, but actually not the first time we met. We met at The Abbey…where he works. I walked in with my friends birthday, all excited about life and ‘ooh laa.’ It was ram packed, but i felt these eyes on me. I turned around and quite far away i spotted a boy…with his eyes GLUED on me. Our eyes connected, with an ‘UMPH.’ Then as soon as he noticed i caught him…he immediately turned away in fear. We became close after that point. We became friends from a ‘look’ across a crowded room. We have a crazy, awful ‘but funny now’ history. It took a long time to get ‘funny.’
Anyway, Lovely day today. It’s gloomy and rainy in LONDON. Ah-dee-dums! I need to tan but i’m too cold to move, let alone be naked and move. I got a stream of messages from women, who picked up on the ‘men are visual creatures’ line in my last blog and want to know how i manage to woo the hearts of many a gentleman. All i can really say is yeah… i get asked out a lot…about 9 to 12 times a day. More in LA. But it really doesn’t mean anything. They ask me out because my image plays to a mans visual impulse. They see me and their minds do silly things to them. I do it deliberately. It’s all i’ve known, growing up in Hollywood, where you only gonna get ahead if you look a certain way. Plus it’s been my job to visually excite the male species for a very long time.
I don’t recommend it, as a way to get asked out. It’s not quantity it’s quality and i never know who truely loves me or who just wants to score me. It works yeah. But it’s a very difficult thing to try and shake off. It will get you into trouble, if you are not used to handling it. Yet then again….it does wonders for your ego, your confidence. That’s actually why i think i’m so confident. Therefore if you want to give it a go for a day…get that push up bra, swiggedy swagger, and give them boys a fever. It’s like the Atkins diet, something you can’t do forever, so you might aswell milk it while you can before you trip over your own foot and die. (Is that how he went??) All he needed was a piece of bread and he’d be able to see his own foot.
My favourite quote of the day ‘..some people get so rich they lose all respect for humanity. I want to be that rich.’