Mr.Right and a Very Good Night

Woke up this morning, in lacy black, with lemon bowed underwear. (Which i actually stole for the BBF house.) I sort of slumped my feathery quilt off me, after getting in at 1 am (early for me,) pushed 2 kittens away, held my head in shame, realized i have officially now lost my voice completely, checked my legs to make sure they were still quite tanned (random, but i did) and then burst into a hysterical fit of laughter at how wonderful i’m feeling about my life. I feel lucky!! I’m living and it feels amazing. I’m getting away with almost everything and that in itself is something to be celebrated. I look out my window and nothing but the brightest sunlight beamed through. It’s like the Gods are shining in on me….or trying to blind me to my merry death! Bastards!!  I’m solar powered, therefore that could be why i’m in such a good mood. I don’t work in the cold. Seriously place me in any sunlight  and i’m rocketting to cloud 9, naked swirling through clouds, throwing skin to the wind. (I’m getting a little carried away.) But you get it…i feel good.

So last night, i didn’t go on my date. I didn’t really feel the need to. It was a warm night in Yorkshire. I was filled to the brim with excitement. So instead of wasting that on some random boy that really just wants me to nosh him off, behind his girlfriends back,  in dirty mirrors, and carve another tally in his bed post…(which he probably doesn’t have, because he probably can’t afford,) i decide that i’m gonna throw on a pair of jeans, a little pink t-shirt, ‘boots with the fur,’ a few diamonds, a massive smile and hit the local pub with the boys of Pontefract! I loved it! You have no idea. I had ‘ooh laa’ seeping out of my pores.

Never in my life, have i had so much good old, ‘down to earth’ fun. It was breath of fresh air, after all the ‘razzle dazzle’ i’ve been going through. Everyone knows each other there. It’s friendly. It’s lively. It’s not full of pretentious, fame hungry, ‘use people for their own benefit’ beasts.  It’s littered with really normal people, who are truely loving their own little lives, wearing what they want, saying  what they want to say, doing whatever they want to do and well the air in that place is full of love. (The toilets are manky though. I had to sit and pee on this toilet, with a large ye olde wooden door that had a giant hole punched though it!!) Pointless me locking it really! LOL

I went to the ‘Counting House,’ which is like an old English Tavern. It’s actually one ot the oldest buildings in Ponty, and ‘business’ (oh-er) has been conducted there since the 14th century. (Slags were slagging it, back in the day.) So i graced this historical feature by getting wasted on 2 glasses of wine, 2 tropical WKDs, 4 double baileys and demon dancing (kinda on my own) around a barrel to the hip hop classic ‘Boom Shake Shake Shake the room.’ I was surrounded by a gaggle of boys (which is usually what happens..i’m smart, i know how to massage my own ego) ..just laughing my ass off. Infact now i think about it, this gaggle of boys followed me everywhere. If i stepped to the right…my gaggle did a follow. If i stepped to the step in and they were there!! Love it!! They were brilliant! And they treated me like i was a normal human being. Yeah they all knew i was on ‘that show,’ yet they didn’t care, or let it take over their evening. They just cared about making sure they were having the best fucking time ever….in a tavern…where the drinks were only £1.50  a bottle! I felt like Chrissie Wunna again. And finally i got to drink something other than free Grey goose or champagne. I’m not one of these stuck up, stare people down from my snotty little corner, with a martini in my hand and a snarl on my face. I’m the 5ft 2 hot one, with the fake lashes and the boob job, that’s laughing around a crowd of ‘goodies’ in the middle a tavern, doing ‘The Robot’  and a sexy moronic wiggle to any Will Smith song known to mankind. (I dont take myself seriously. Men never realise that about me.) Although i did shout, ‘I’m on the fucking telly’ a good few hundred times. Followed by an ‘I love my boobs!!!’ Oh and i did call girls i didnt think we’re attractive ‘Horrible’ followed by their name. (hahahah)

It was amazing! We were drinking under the moon, outside a tavern, there were fat  50 year old lesbos, grinding up and down chairs and each other…with their daughters as their audience. I saw a video of a man, who was duck taped down to a bed, quite ferociously and forced to watch gay porn. I heard a romantic boy tell a girl he fancied that ‘her big breasts were God’s compensation.’ (Oh deary.) And was told by someone who had seen me in ‘Zoo,’who apparently smelt like someones festering dirty washing, that he saw my ‘knockers out’ in the magazine, yet it unfortunately didn’t do the job. Therefore  he turned the page and wanked it to a shark, followed by a gammy hand, instead. (hahaha.) Then i had a smack head look-a likey, tell me he was my number one fan, and was also once on the telly…with dogs? A dog was actually also randomly in the bar.  Finally I got driven home by a sweet  boy who wished for more than his Pontefract life. It was just good decent normal times. And it made me realise how happy i am.

I mean a ‘high life’ can be everything to some people (mainly those who don’t have it)…but it’s really just my job. I’m a down to earth normal girl, who often loses herself and gets caught up in her giant ego. She trips up and make horrendous mistakes. She sometimes never learns from them. Yet as each day passes, i’m learning what and who means the most to me. England has been my rehab. I had to get away from Hollywood for a jolly bit to re-find myself. And fair enough i kinda got myself on a tv show and in a few mags, accidently creating my LA world out here in good old britain…but i think that would just happen anywhere i went? I seem to not beable to live without it. Tragic, but true. I love it.

On the dating front. I guess i just forgot (oopsie, quite careless of me really) that i have this amazing twit of a man, who adores this amazing twit of a chick (yeah Me) more than anything in this twit of a world? (haha) I have strong bonds with many men. (Cos i’m a slag.) Yet they are simply just ‘bonds.’ Great bonds!!  But bonds that can easily be, de-steamed with a heated kettle. Yet this bug called  ‘love’ (the real kind) only crawls by once or twice  in someones lifetime. I messed it up the first time. (You all know the story. LOL) I can be a real pain in the arse of a partner. Yet i waited 4 years since that time, dating millions of Mr. Right’s but just not MY Mr. Right. Only to have Cupid throw me a bone. (ner)  Theres this guy. Who without fail stands by me and tells me how much i mean to him every single  useless day. (Apart from when we’re fighting, killing each other and wanting each other to die. We FIGHT like hookers on crack.) I’ve been a pretty shit ‘other half.’ (Don’t know why that makes me laugh.)  But i’m gonna try and be great! (Even though he’s in i’m forced to do long distance jiggy for a wee little bitty.) Ugh…i’m already over it. Bored! Next! (hahahaha)

Ladies and Gentlemen….Lets mark the re-entrance of ‘Latin Lover!’ (She evil smiles.) Love it!!! Let the games begin!!

3 thoughts on “Mr.Right and a Very Good Night”

  1. Hi Chrissie

    I love this! I too have been on TV and thought that by getting my knockers out, i’ll get places and get be happy! Oh, biy was i wrong. I never felt more wrong in all my life. The high life is great if you can stay yourself and not get lost in the crouds of fakers, but for me, thats not enough. I wanted to find wat i called MY Man and i found him and i moved away and began my own life, and that is more rewarding than anything a magazine or TV show can give me!

    I salute you girl!

    Kepp the real stuff coming

    Robyn xxx


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