Pass me my Peach Margarita and Mambo

So i’m back from my long weekend in London, where i watched a lucky bride, walk down a ‘right angled isle…’ (i know bizarre & a bit awkward for everyone really)…hahaha. I managed to whore my inappropriate dress, to great effect…with my ‘pretend’ cousin claiming it screamed out ‘Pass me my peach margarita, and lets go Mambo bitch..! Hahaha!! All i can say about weddings is that it’s only fun when it’s YOUR OWN!!! Otherwise it gets pretty ‘snooze fest.’ Sooo ‘pretend cousin’ and I, got McTrashed on champagne, red wine, sparking water, champagne, and 7 vodka pineapples, followed by 2 vodka bitter lemons, and maybe a couple of let over pints…whilst giving the boys marks out of ten, judging those less fortunate than I and eating poached salmon, in hot pink, and bright green dresses!! I LOVE MY LIFE!!! I had soooooo much fun!!  I also got ‘frantic, but at the complete wrong time’ calls from my agents, telling me i had booked a tv show, yet  obviously i couldn’t answer my bastard phone, due to my other ‘pretend cousin’ deciding to say her vows to a computer technician!! Ugh!! I did try though, which caused a few scowls and complications…lol……yet that’s another story!! Other than that there were booty calls, booze, leicester square, london nights, soho, orphaned children, 4 fancy dress bachelorette parties, a catwalk, a couple of nice pervs, a boy getting mad at me because i keep apparently ‘toying’ with his emotions…(note: that saying is soooooooo 2005,) more booze, more fun, chinese lettuce whacking, belly buttons, dim sum, good shoes, bad shoes, boys, tattoo artists, sunshine, rain, old friends new fun, and CHAMPAGNE bitches!! I can’t really  seem to be able to explain my whole weekend that well, as i am 4% retarded. Yet i CAN say…. ‘OOh Laa, OOH Laaa, Yo Diggy, GREATNESS’ and it was probably better than yours…. hahahaha joking, but honestly it probably was!!!

So it’s about 1AM THIS MORNING, and i’m driving back from the Capital, thinking all the fun drama was over, and that my mind was gonna have to be bored, until wednesday…which is BOOBIE  OP DAY!! hurrah!! THEN, i seemed to get a stream of drunk text messages, from a stream of very drunk friends, ALL needing assistant with their love lives.  As we all know, i’m not exactly the QUEEN of LOVE or the QUEEN of ADVICE, but i’m pretty good at Life, SEX and bossing people around, so i figured, i’d give it a shot!! Plus, it’s easy giving drunk people advice, as they never care to remember what you tell them. They just listen, drink more, and do whatever the fuck they want…hahaha. it’s ACE!! There’s nothing like liquid courage!! (DRINK IT LILLY!!)

Anyway, sorry this blog is shite, as i’m sure you wanted it to be more creative..(blah, blah, blah) but i’m currently out shopping for  my ‘Day of boob job,’ clothes. I need hot clothes, for when i arrive, cute clothes for when i stay the night, and extremely hot clothes, for when i leave & strut out of that joint with massive Bjongas…that’s if i don’t die or something, as obviously that would kind of suck…especially since i’d never get to where my ‘clothes to leave boob job in…,’ right?? What a waste of Dior!!

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