I’ve just woken up next to a fully clothed teddy bear. Even any stuffed animal i sleep with daren’t remove it’s clothing, when in bed with me. Most of you, (well hopefully) woke up to a well bodied female, or a deliciously dreamy ‘handsome,’ or a ‘being’ of future regret. I woke up next to a stuffed fucking bear in a hat and scarf, that didn’t even tell me he loved me. I’ve always thought cuddly toys were over-rated…especially the ones that keep their shoes on. From now on i’m only going to let superior cuddly toys grace my sheets…and they will be ones i’ve purchased from a sex shop.
In the last few rather loong hours i’ve managed to consume so much wine that my actual sight was given away to it. On Friday night i’d been on a late night drive with my sexy boy of ‘lover lover.’ (Pete) We actually pulled over and then got stopped ‘in the name of law’ my the Police, who decided to shine a torch into our car. Apparently they thought we could’ve been doing drugs, but we’re so completely *rockstar* and devilishly exciting that we were actually and quite luckily doing nothing. (Well i was holding an open bottle of red wine, that i was swigging out of. But i wasn’t driving, so IN YOUR FACE.) It was nothing really, they were actually really nice, when they saw we looked like a happy, young couple and not a pair of *thug mansions.* I did what i did best, mid *torch shine* and hid the wine bottle between my legs (*wink-pout*) and with a 100 watt smile, they drove off waving. (We later had sex on a dirt track. But before that and as i was confessing undying love, outside a primaryschool, he accidentally elbowed me in the face, mid * stretch.* )
Anyway, moving on…i’ve also shopped, got yelled at by a homeless granny who told me to refrain from using the Lord’s name in vain, because she was a Christian. I mean, all i said was ‘Oh God..how cute,’ and we were standing by a market stall full of Dolls houses, in Doncaster. The word ‘GOD’ isn’t swearing, in my world. He’s the dude that made me Glorious, therefore i adore him. (Even though i think he’s bi.) It’s not like i said ‘Fricka-doo-dee.’ (Bitch.) Plus, as IF i would ever swear infront of DOLL’s houses. That’s like breaking the code of conduct of any Glamour Glamour puss. I was trying to model out how i might want my new Kitty Kitty flat, (‘Do you guys have a doll sized hot tub?’) The last thing i needed was a toothless homeless gran, trying to feel me up and tell me that she was a Mutha Fucking Christian. 🙂
Apart from all that, i now have another friend flying out to England to LA. Hot Matt. I love hot Matt, because anyone who i’ve labelled with such a title of distinction (yes we did have a yummy thing a ling…but now he’ s an amazing friend of ‘hottie’) must be a boy of marvel. ‘Loverboy’ fully committed to me last night, by attempting to propose drunk and with takeaway via text after a night out with ‘da boys.’ He went out for a drinky winky, to celebrate a friends birthday or something. They Googled me…because they’ve never met me and i guess their reaction made ‘Loverboy’ want to seal me has his forever. (I do adore him, i doooo. Every inch of him. Yet, ‘When are we getting married’ via text, is hardly the height of romance. But at least he does want to marry me. I likey!)
I’ve decided that I’m quite a wonderful being. I’ve been told that ‘fireworks suit me’ by a ‘shirtless.’ Another lovely, told me i’d get stung by a jellyfish. Yet i assured them that anything that *stings* me will simply immediately die of alcohol poisoning. I’ve been offered a lot of work across the pond. I’ve got a lot of pouting and posing to do. I tried to do maths when drunk last night, but failed miserably. There’s hot guys that work at the Doncaster Natwest bank. I spyed a fun fair, but got dragged away from it…do the sheer amount of people that would be there and apparently it’s not fun going with the Ultimate Glamour puss for my friends, due to the full time staring. I’ve decided i want to be a ‘showgirl.’ I want to adventure, live and love. I’m currently the asian Dolly Parton and i can’t fit into any dress that i bought last month. I found a random pair of pom pom’s in my Juicy couture (i must be a real life cheerleader, but just completely forgot) and well LIFE is nothing but a WONDERFUL thing. *Runs a lap cheering, with streamers.*
If i can help you find the fun or the funny in yours, i will. Like i’m genuinely here to cheerlead you on in life and help you CELEBRATE , who you are, what you have and aid you on the route to pure happiness. Tell your story with a cheery, playful pride…a *giggle* a *wink* and love everyone you can, along the way. Oh and I fancy every single one of those Britain’s Got Talent Gymnast boys. I’m glad they’ve kept it raunchy. My rude sober friend said…’Chrissie it’s not meant to be raunchy, it’s mean to be talent.’ Please, as if ‘being sexy’ isn’t a talent. If it wasn’t then everyone would be it. *Wink-pout* Then she wouldn’t stop being sober and *snooze fest* and went on to say ‘You’re meant to be watching the gynastics, not the nudity.’ I just had her removed. I don’t have negative people like her in my life. 🙂