There’s NO ROPE Dude!

Morning my yummy treats of ‘ooh laa.’ Not only am I currently *bopping* around to The Only Way Is Essex music video. (I sooo need a ‘chrissiewunna.com’ one of those. Feat. Wazza.) We all know, i’m a kitty cat who enjoys a good time. *Throws glitter at you- slides you down a cocktail.* Therefore today’s the day, New Mum Wunna, steps back into her life of fabulosity, *Adjusts tiara*and re-sambas to the old art of *shimtastic.*I’m one of those chicas that believes it’s important to feel feminine once more after 9 months of being a preggo-hontas. Y’know fill lost ‘ooh’ with a mighty jug of ‘Va Voom.’ Get back to who you are, how you are, whilst working the way you strut. Just because you’re a Mum doesn’t mean you have to immediately retire to the racks of Bon Marche and *Frump* it forward with a pretence of responsibilty. I’m a GREAT mum. Ruby is my world. Not only has she made me the happiest Puss in town. Yet when i’m happy..I want to celebrate…and in feathers!!! *Lowers living room disco ball.* (I wish 🙂 )

Okay! I’ve had a mighty 3 hours sleep due to midnight feeds and baby cuddles. I’m waiting for the Midwife to pop on over. I’ve had to actually hoover around (eww much) because Loverboy…although lovely, is probably the messiest person i’ve ever lived with. (Actually no. Greg who left a tranny on my bed, who was wearing my knickers in LA..was quite messy. I remember walking into my room, after a night at the Cabana club, with a freshly pulled ‘Handsome.’ I ended up doing my giddy wiggle upstairs, whilst trying to perform excited, yet tragic ‘sexy’ faces. I found a Tranny in my bed, who seemed to be on all fours and working it. It’s actually resembled a kinky game of Twister. That ‘Doll‘ had every part a going! 🙂 Three other lovelies also seemed to be ruffling up my empty sheets…therefore obviously it kinda rolled my night down an immediate hill of despair! Greg was definitely my messiest Hollywood roomy. Quite irresponsible of him to leave his Tranny on my bed really. All Loverboy left was a chip.)

I have another ‘work from home’ day. My book is almost almost done. I’m really counting on it doing well..so once it hits the stores, I really need you to buy it. I’ve just realized that the ‘Peaches show’ was my first ever ‘sit down on a sofa, on the telly’ interview. Quite terrifying really. I have a lot more of them in a month and a bit to promote my book. If i can take that, then I can take anything. Things are falling into place nicely now and I’ve just recieved a text from Wazza reading: ‘Hits on the website are still 5 times more higher, since the airing of the show.’ I guess a little bit goes a long way! (God, i really need food right now.)

I’m on this baby weight diet. I’ve gone from a very preggo size 14-16, to a jolly old UK 10 right now. Unfortunately, i’ve done this in under 2 weeks, which isn’t at all safe. (I guess verbally abusing comedians and hair-tossing sheds pounds.) I’ve never really been weight focussed. But seeing how ‘rollie pollie’ I was on the telly the other night, kinda ‘soiled’ my mind with nonsense. Maybe I am a great deal more weight focussed than I thought? I’m on a tragical low carb diet, with a tremendous amount of exercise. (I have a Day Job at a gym, Xercise4less, so I can lunge for free with drippy hot trainers.) However, I don’t want you all to now think you need to diminish those curves and stop eating bread. Remember that i’ve just had a bambino. Walking around with a dropped belly and a *wink,* hardly screams ‘Glamour Puss.’ In a month, i’ll have my body back and I can finally rock the title of M.I.L.F. (Yes. I am that hidieous!)

Gay Adam’s been texting me a lot. He must miss me and all that good stuff. Anyway he’s started running again. *Rolls eyes.* I hate it when he starts the running because it’s never about getting fit and it’s always about him either falling in love with the wrong guy, stalking…the wrong guy, falling out of love…with the wrong guy…or the wrong guy, being evil to him. Running to me is a sin anyway. Running on a treadmill, means you’re never truely ever gonna get anywhere. You end where you started and that is on the spot. But in sweaty gym shorts and maybe with an itchy crotch.

Now Gay Adam never has a decent love life, which I hate because he’s a decent human being. Really he is. (I can relate to that. I mean i’ve had a jolly bunch of admirers, however if they roll you out of bed after a few weeks, it doesn’t actually count.) But anyway Adam’s apparently going back to DisneyLand Paris to see an ex..who plays ‘Prince Charming’ and well due to Prince Charming’s kinky ways…he’s going to have to wear leather, have a mask, maybe get raped…and take rope! I’m trying to explain to Adam that there’s no fucking ROPE in Fairytales. I mean, if a ‘Handsome’ swaggered up to me with a piece of girthy rope. I’d stab him with stilettos & ‘whack’ his Disneyland arse back to kinks-ville, to merry music. I’ve told Adam that I won’t allow him to wear leather in Disneyland. I don’t care how gay you are…it’s just tooo ‘tight crotch’ for a teacup. However, Gay Adam I getting it. I recieved a text from him at 22.28 yesterday reading ‘He kissed the Princess, she woke up. The Prince stole a horse, rode back through the ghetto to his council flat and they had it off. There was NO ROPE!’

Luckily, he’s decided to maybe fly to Africa instead to dry hump his other ex ‘French Lover’..who would prefer him to refer to ‘hanky panky‘ as ‘love making.

‘Train Guy’ failed to get on the train this morning….therefore i believe it’s now over! HAHAHA. Oh how I adore the company i choose to keep. I enjoy it because it reminds me of my past and if anyone can hand walk them through the trials and tribulations of love, life and that key to ‘happily ever after’…it certainly is ME!! But this time bitches…i’m sober.

Got to go. Midwife’s here! Finishing book today! I’m feeling lucky and like Wunnaland is about to smear it’s glittery glory on the world FOREVER! I hate my diet. I can’t live on lettuce and be sexy. Pete keeps trying to feed me carbs, in order to slow my journey back to ‘sizzle’ right down, so that the gents don’t pounce on whats his. He told me that he doesn’t AT ALL miss the gaggle of drop jawed shirtless himbo’s, who fancy trying their act on the old Glamour Puss. It’s hard on him, due to his rather romantic nature. I swear he’s dipping my raw carrot sticks in bacon juice?

We took Baby Ruby to meet her 90 year old Great Grandma yesterday, at Pinderfields hospital. (We couldn’t even get through the hospital without everyone stopping to ‘aww’ at our yummy bambino. Women of all ages walked over to say ‘hello.’

1 thought on “There’s NO ROPE Dude!”

  1. I wish I could post some sort of response to this that made my life look slightly more normal and a lot less tragic in love.
    In 3 days time I shall be in the comfort of strutting around avoiding leather-dressed Prince’s armed with rope =(

    Reply

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