Ask Me What You Want Week…


Okay, hey my lovers of ‘liciousness. Today, with it being a day of God, is the start of a long week where in which YOU, yes YOU… the people that foolishly keep me a float may ask me ANYTHING. I get a lot of ‘mailed in’ questions on a dailybasis. Yet now it’s a bit hard (due to my mentally ill state) to personally write back to all of you right away…but i do try to. YOU WILL get a response..even if it’s a drunk one. And well, my favourite thing is answering questions about myself. (ME! ME! ME!)

All you need to do, is either hit ‘Contact Chrissie’ and email me your question. It can be about ANTHING! But if it’s not about ME, i will zone out. Or you can Facebook me a question, Twitter me one, or Leave one as a COMMENT on here, my lovelies.

I’ll scroll through them and then pick one every now and again to post on my blog…with an very honest and somewhat twisted answer.

(Photo Above was sent to Me by Francesca Kocura. I was meeting, greeting and signing things at the ‘Britains Got Talent Tour,’ this year. Not that i was on that show, but fuck it…it’s ALL ABOUT ME. It kinda looks like i’m a paedophile at a school yard fence.)


Answer: The Twins!! I think they should be rewarded for there sheer tragic greatness and ability to entertain. I only watch it for them. If i saw The Twins on the street. I would literally run up to them screaming. Then i’d get them drunk and offer to feel them up.

What i like in Men

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Odd time in my life really? I’m being ridiculously harrassed by boys, men and their egos (some nice to Me, some awful to me, if i turn them down) and although i feel very privileged, it’s starting to wear me down! Hence the vow of CELEBACY. Firstly, if i don’t KNOW you, or haven’t MET you EVER, then the chances of me being ‘yours‘ are pretty slim…especially if you are rude to me. (Go back to ‘Romance Camp!!) I’ve like literally had to bitch about 14 out this morning and delete them off my facebook page. It got that bad!

Men are dumb. They’ll try being nice to you, then they’ll try guilt tripping you into going out with them, then they’ll try abusing you to get your attention, then they’ll try to talk dirty to you, because they’ve misread who you really are. Pretend to offer you work. Go on about how much money they have. Or they’ll have no guts and just be ridiculously shy and never tell you how much they care about you. All of these really rubbish methods within the space of 7mins. And they don’t mean anything they’re saying to you, as your just a ‘prize’, hence why they go through 5 different methods in 7 minutes to try and score a date! They’ll try anything. They’ll pull a fucking bunny out a hat if they had to…then bully you into submission!! This is not the way to get me…or any decent girl of that matter. I do not fall for silly willy boy games. I know men, i know men well. I’ve dated pretty much ALL OF YOU. (lol. Floozey Alert.) I am highly experienced in this dating game!! I like a raw chemistry with someone..someone i can just laze about with and talk to about with ease, like a best friend, about our lives, do normal and abnormal things with. Like we could rock up to a red carpet event and be amazing, then the next day just go for a walk around town, have a bacon fucking butty and throw on some tracky bottoms. (I dont’ wear tracky bottoms! I’m just trying to relate to you. Lol.) I like a man who can stand the test of time. It shows strength.

Okay, i’m a loving girl, i have strong friendships with people, that turn to ‘love.’ Love is something that Men grow into. And a deep rooted ‘connection’ is something that you both will immediately have with each other, if they are right. It’s like a magical ‘UMPH!’ I don’t have these very often, but when i do, and i do do. They are strong! I am a loyal girl. At the same time as all that, i’m fun and sexual. I’m naturally a sensual being, but have an innocent playful ‘ooh laa’ about me. Yet at the same time as being a girly girl, i have masculine boyish qualities. (Bossy! Bold!Annoying!) I can’t really describe Me. It’s difficult. But i guess at times in relationships people become selfish and destroy the whole goddamn thing over nothing. I’ve learnt a lot from this and well ‘love’ is when you go through an awful time, you run away screaming, maybe even date a few people during this time. It all goes to pot, and then you rub you eyes, all exhausted and sweaty, look to your side and that person you initially cared for, after all of that time is still standing there. (God today is boring innit.)

Anyway, I’m loving, generous and expressive. I therefore like an expressive man, rather than a mysterious one. The young girls like a ‘mysterious’ man because it makes them need to find everything out about you, almost desperately. I’m maturer, therefore i like a ballsy, honest, open, yet romantic man. ‘Mysterious’ to me, is ‘oh he’s not interested,’ because i’m not use to playing a game. The older guys don’t at all play games. They get  straight to the point and within minutes. I like that! But a younger boy, will always be a lot less confident in himself. I used always make the first move with boys. But now i never do, because i’m a bit more scared to. (Issues much.) But then i guess, if you don’t? Then hows anything ever gonna happen?

I’m actually quite romantic, yet i try to hide it behind that good old rubbish sense of humour…as i’m extremely shy when it comes to romance and all that good stuff. (Makes me blush. Or i get insecure.) But i’m feisty! If you have a go at Me. I WILL fight you. (Hahha…I will.) I’ll stand my ground and yours! I’m not a force to be reckoned with. And if i don’t love you then your fucked. Coz i’m soft with those i love. Baby ‘kissy kissy’ soft. I’ll fight their case till the day i die. I’m confident, i’m quirky. But it’s because i know any man that keeps me will be the luckiest man alive.

The way to my heart is to be open about how you feel, honest and MAKE ME LAUGH! I hold any guy who can make me giggle, so close to my heart. I mean, i’m a good time gal. I love fun, merriment and happiness. Uuuh, i adore a funny man. I do. But the most important thing is to have a spirit that plays well with mine, be expressive, loving, and this may sound odd, but BE your fucking self!!! Good or bad, i’m an understanding girl. (My boobs are so swollen today! It’s the cold fucking air!! Freezes them like frickety fru. I need my fur.)

Growing Old Gracefully….


Met loads of you Darlings last night, whilst i was out in

My F******* Swagger..


Just been on a 6 mile walk. I hate being tricked into working out. I’m not one for exercise. I don’t believe a body was built for strain and more for cuddles. My friend, who really needs to work out a little more (cheeky cow) decided she needed to look after my well being, therefore wants me to go on these fucking ‘got better things to do‘ long ass walks with her, in order to keep my body completely ‘ooh laa’ and all that good stuff! Last time i got tricked into working out, my friend told me i was going to the Zoo….we ended up on a fucking hike! BITCH! I’m fine!! I look like i’ve been dipped in fake tan and had a few meaty sandwiches.

A Little bit of a Boost Up…


Happy Weekened My Delicious Fools of Gold!!!  Anyway to prevent my pretty self from waking up at 4.30am in the morning, like i’ve been accidentally doing for the past few days. I made the executive decision (oh The Wunna logic) to actually go to BED at 4.30am, therefore WAKING up at that time would be almost an impossibility….unless i really am a figment of your imagination and therefore ridiculously magic. I stayed researching the lives of all GREAT, Beautiful beings. I study successful people. I watch. I learn. Then i try to steal all their ideas…yet it never works. Now let me tell you why, my darlings!!! (I mean i don’t do that now because i feel quite successful. Yeah i have a long way to go…but that’s only my ambition getting the better of Me. The last 2 months have rocketted me up a platform. I want the platform, so i can be heard, i can inspire and mainly be admired by the masses.)

Okay, Boys and Girls. Ladies and Gents. Infact all those trying to pursue a career in showbusiness. A career in entertainment. I’m an entertainer…and therefore i know how hard it can be on the old heart at times. I mean i’ve lived it through Hollywood, learning everything the HARD way. I’ve been up, down, beat down, casting couched, worshipped, been ridiculously popular and been ridiculously unpopular. But i know how this business of ‘show’ works and not from reading books, but from learning first hand. I’ve paid by dues. I’ve done my time. For all those that say i haven’t. Well let me tell you, i first stepped on a stage when i was 5…and had to wait at least 15 more years ( my life 3 times over before i actually started getting paid for it)…’s been a long ass time and i’m still trundling along joyously, trying to make the BIG TIME. But i’m much closer now…why…because i’ve worked hard. I’ve been dedicated. Lazy and drunk at times…maybe a bit self destructive and a whore…but dedicated. (Oh and i watched that BNP thing last night on ‘Question Time.’ Hmm…? A jolly bunch the BNP. (lol) A 90% White Britain?? Where would i go?? I’d be boxed up and sent to sea? Maybe i get to stay?? Who else is gonna make your egg rolls and No.55’s and give you ‘Happy endings?’ Aaah din’t think about that!!! Did ya Griffin!!!

Anyway, fuck i got distracted. Okay. What i wanted to tell you was this… I’ve noticed lots of ‘young’uns’ in entertainment are getting it all wrong. They want the success and they want it fast…yet don’t realize how well you need to know yourself in order to be successful. Or do it in all the wrong ways. (Eg/sucking up to all the right people, dating the right people, hanging out with the right people etc..) Like you have to be pretty good mates with yourself. I’ve lived a life…a tragic one. I’ve been through it and all kinds of jiggery pokery. I’m in tune with little Miss.Wunna, i know her inside out..i’m not afraid to tell you my truth…and i’m doing well… i have no FEAR! I feel beautiful.

I think that in order to be a ‘success,’ you need to be truthful, honest, raw and refrain from immitating someone you like, or adopting a manner. I’ve made this mistake so may times!!! BE YOU, y’know surprise people. It’s an elementary mistake that people make, to COPY what they LOVE. I mean, you hear people say, i wanna be like Justin Timberlake, or Christina Aguilera or whoever else you cream ya knick knacks over…Yet people don’t realize that what they actually are…is themselves!!! They are the original version of themselves. If you copy them….you will just be a shit second rate version of them. Which isn’t bad…it that’s all you want.

The main reason you have to be ‘in tune’ with yourself, who you are, what your about…in order to be a ‘GREAT.’ Is because when you are ‘in tune,’ you’re in line with the universe (No i’m not on drugs, i’m on tea) and you will be supported by the energy around you…creating the perfect ‘flow.’ If you are constantly trying to be something your not, or copying someone in order to be ‘cool,’ or be like them…then you are  breaking away from your natural authenticity because it’s not who you really are. And well you’ll just be CRAP and always hit brick walls. Woohoo! Hand out the wine and condoms! Bring me CAKE and pussy!

By all means learn from people you admire, learn from your favourite ‘talents.’ I do on a daily. But i just don’t think you can be ‘GREAT’ until you’ve firstly done your job enough and secondly until you have found YOU, are able to be honest, loving, beautiful and are comfortable with your very tragic self…bruises and all. (Winks)

Thursdays, Layla and a Little Bit of Chanel

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Met up with Layla today. I haven’t seen her in ages and well she had 4 hours to kill before her passport was renewed. As i woke up, i got a text reading, ‘U wanna do coffee?’ And since i’m on this whole, single-fabulous wave of ‘ooh laa,’ i figured why not spend ‘girl time’ with a chica who i can have a good gossip with and spend a few fine earned pences with. I like Layla because she’s always quite honest about things and every girl needs a little bit of a ‘reality check’ in their life.

Okay, so i met her outside Topshop after buying ‘Bling’ for dates and talking about boobies. We needed a ciggy break so during a ‘pause’ between banter we did just that….and who do we run into as we’re on our merry ‘we’re better than all men‘ luncheon. Yep, Jonny and Chris….who were armed with a tiny Debenhams bag and a bottle of Evian from Morrisons. What were the chances?? I’m not a fan of running into exes, when i don’t know i’m going to run into them. I only like my alone time with them, because they can only really be themselves, when they are alone with me. Anyway, Layla doesn’t really know all the drama, well kinda does, but not really and wrongly assumed that ‘Chris‘ (the one that she referred to as the ‘taller’ one) was Jonny….like in her words, ‘it must have been.’ (I won’t say why.) But she couldn’t for the life of her…well….whatever! I think  she just found it bizarre that i would hang out with them? I like those boys. I do. They were normal and sweet. Plain but nice. Yet a bit odder than usual around Me and claimed to have been talking about me 5 minutes previous. (Which is usually code for ‘slagging me off.‘ Lol. Yet i hope not!!! ) But after awkward ‘ we’re on the street’ banter….we then ventured off to get Italian and wine in the Oxford Circus area. (Can’t for the life of me remember, what the place was called??) Ugh! My phones ringing…hang on. It’s New York.

Anyway we gossiped about our love lives over bruschetta and pasta and OMG we went to TOWN on it. I mean, we don’t understand why boys in England are so insecure and how playing the field might be a better option as finding a decent, hot, prince charming is pretty difficult in London Town. It was like an episode of ‘sex in the city.’ I told her about what i was getting up to…(which is nothing. I have a hottie man-eating reputation, but i have my blinders on right now…no-ones catching my eye, or really striking me, or really good enough. I’m not even on the look out.) But we laughed at my past. THEN mid mouthful after i tell her who i DO want to date, she flips a ‘crazy’ on me and tells me who she’s been tampering with. OMG!!! I can’t tell you, but OMG! You will knows these boys very very well AND their reputations. I sat there pissing myself, slightly shocked, slightly jealous that she’s had the chance to see them naked and completely ‘wa wa woo weed’ about the whole thing. Oh and i noticed that the waiter was a bit of a dish. All sexy, latin and flirty. (Come to mama, but not really. Mamas not bothered.)

I Can’t Believe My Luck…


Keep doing this thing where my eyes open at 4.30am every morning. It’s gonna have to stop, especially because i was having a rather wonderful dream about musclebound hero’s. I tried to get back to it, yet my mind decided to toy with me and give me the middle fingeroo.

I am having an AMAZING day. Work is going far too well for me right now. I really don’t deserve it. (Well i do. I work a lot harder than you believe i do…i just don’t tell you.)  I’m finally making an impact, my mark and at this rate with a little less ‘party party’ and a little more concentration…i’m actually gonna find my merry self in a rather ‘dream come true’ position! I can’t believe it!! Boys are wanting to hang out with me left, right and centre (oooh matron,) i even had one try to BUY me out of work, claiming he would triple whatever i was getting paid for the day, if i just did dinner with him. Nice gesture, but I’m not that girl. I pay my own way. I always have. Yet, i’ve noticed how young boys or even grown ass men are having to use people in order to get a themselves a drink at a bar even. What is that??? I mean they think they’re being clever clever…when really they are simply passing the power and making themselves look a bit silly. It makes people lose respect for you. I mean, you have freely without the art of manipulation, been offered a drink….Then that’s a different story! Men are slags! Yet have a go at us for being slaggy. They wish they were girls. Well hot ones anyhow.

I have a marvellous amount of shoots coming up. I can’t work my microwave. I’ve had a little chat with it, yet it’s telling me to politely ‘fuck off.’ I have great support from my friends right now. They are thundering my corner like champions. Work is a dream. A gentleman in Ireland has been following my jiggery pokery and would like me to appear in one of their reality shows. I have a delicious amount of parties to go to…if i  so wishy. I have a book on it’s way out and i can now completely do the ‘Moonwalk.’ Yes i can!! Don’t hate!! Oh and i’m contemplating being a ‘sparrow’ for Halloween. You like? 50 dorrar!

I feel strong, powerful and sexy and i’m rocking it. The phrase of the day is ‘single and fabulous.’ I’m so not arsed with guys right now, because i feel like my package is a bit too good for what’s being put on offer. Don’t sell yourself short…unless you really have to! (wink) We’ve all been there. But yeah today i’m all ‘i don’t need a man,’ and it actually feels liberating and i’ve been shouting ‘so what…i’m still a rockstar..’ repeatedly..because I can! I’m single. I’m fabulous and why have a man, if you know you’re only gonna trip up over him? They’re like litter, or shoes that don’t fit.

The Daily tar claims that i am in love with Wayne Rooney. (Made up. Even though i did talk to Natalie Rooney last night…who fancies Aaron Carter. I never went through that stage…he was never cute to me. I always thought he looked like he was on drugs. Then I was reminded of how my best bud ‘Wazza’ is a lovable liar and in front of the whole nation too. (Lol.) I’ m meeting up with Layla today for a coffee in Leicester square, for a catch up. I love Layla…she’s all naieve and boobied. Great decoration. Great to take the piss out of. Her nickname for me is ‘Ugly.’ I’m gonna drill her about her love life. I’m good like that. Then i’ll report everything i know! Mwahahaha!

The reason why i’ve become so strong is because i was sitting in a room full of lonely, lost hearts who were feeling rather sorry for themselves and refusing to perk up. If you can’t see the funny in something that hurts, then eventually you will be FUCKED and not the goood kind. My bounce back ability is fast and dynamic and i was sort of getting washed up in a wave of self pity, tided in by the ‘lonelies.’ I looked around the room…stopped…then looked again. Drank wine. Danced to Beyonce. Then realized i was NOTHING like them. I’m strong and people moan to me, because i am. I set a great example of ‘everythings going to be alright.’ I’m living proof. I mean i told you how peoples hearts crumble…well i’m not saying mine doesn’t, but when it does i can scoop it all up in 5 minutes, add glitter, champagne, make out with a stranger and be ready for the next merry adventure.

Don’t wallow in self pity. Look for the positive, the bright side, the good in people. If you don’t you are way behind in the race of strenght. Pick your friends wisely and well ENJOY what the world has to offer. Whether it be boys, bags or booty. Ditch any excess baggage and always travel light. I am known for this. I am not a ten suitcase girl. I have one bag, and THAT is ALL. I’m always very weary of those who trundle along with too much luggage. It means they can’t make decisions, and aren’t free enough to fly.They don’t feel safe without it. Team Wunna rocks. Join me. Lets mess this world up good and proper!!!

Welcoming The World!!


Had my hair done, my nails done, a tanny tan tan sprayed and caught up with a few friends with current tragic love lives over muffins. Right now every single one of my merry maties has got some kind of a terrible love life, ‘shimmie’ going on. I’m blaming the weather. It’s making people sad and needy. I’ll be sitting at a coffee shop, admiring my mirror image, then a text’ll come through messaging some awful news about what a boy has recently done to one of my beauties. Men are weird because they are brought up to learn to be macho and hide how they truely feel…so instead of opening up, they act up, leaving us little ladies to cry into our pillows or wink at another stranger, whilst they kick themselves in the balls repeatedly. You will not believe the ‘hoo-haa’ that’s going on!! It’s a merry- go-round of heartbreak. I’m actually doing alright, right now. Yet my ‘darlings‘ really aren’t. What I’m learning is that when peoples hearts ‘thud, thud, then break,’ they don’t break in one clear solid ‘pull away.’ They shatter into a million pieces or crumble into dust…making it hard to get back on that three legged pony. (Ooh Daddy.)

My advice to anyone…don’t be afraid to love, or to love who you love. Tell them. It makes you strong, adorable and rather grown up. (Girls…it is the BOYs job to make the move.) Men are such pussies in Britain. They’re all scared and shy. Odd? I mean Heaven forbid, if you actually tell a girl you ‘love’ her!! lol. Come on! Man up! (Even if you have to get wasted!) I’m so completely not attracted to ‘not very open- not very confident’ men. It disappoints me. I’m a strong woman. I need a strong, attentive man. Oh and to all my friends who are crying…don’t! No-one will shag you if your always crying. Everyone knows tears are only meant to be used for attention.

Anyway enough of all that jiggery pokery. I wanted to say’ Thank you’ my dandies for reading about my fabulous (code for ‘rubbish’) life. You are not alone and reading it with fantastic members of the world, who also love a bit of ‘The Wunna’ in their life. Just so you know, as i need to quickly pop to the shop. Here is my top ten country countdown for you, in reverse order. These are the fabulous TOP TEN countries that have read my blog the most this MONTH. And this month only…

10. Russia (I love your hats and random leg dance)

9. The rest of Europe (I love the shirtless pictures you inbox me.)

8. China (We all love you. Everythings made there.)

7.Germany (You rock for loving David Hasslehoff.)

6.Burma (The country that I originate from. You hate me. But I love you. Thanx for reading & harrasing my family.)


Little Miss.Controversial


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.’

Nuns, Juice and Pregnancies


I feel all dizzy and sick and believe it’s because God has chosen ME to be the next lucky being to experience the ‘immaculate conception,’ with my virginal status an all that. I’m not gonna be calling it ‘Jesus’ though. I’m going for something far more ‘delicious’ like ‘Hunter’ or ‘Tequila.’ (‘Hey my mums so cool…she wanted to name me after a barbaric male or booze.’) I’m not pregnant before you all start getting a little too eager with that rumour. No-one wants to give me a cuddle, let alone a jolly old feel up. (Well apart from the fat pervert that followed me all day yesterday and tried to break into my appartment. I had to little ‘fur boot’ kick a door into his face with 2 cups of tea in my hand and a pepperoni pizza. What a cunt. Don’t try and follow me unless you are HOT! It’s the rules. There’s leagues. Don’t get it twisted!! I mean i’m desperate but that belly on my sheets, is a sin. The odd thing about it was that his face looked like an actual bum??? He was a black version of ‘Fat bastard.’)

Anyway, my friend let a boy ‘squirt’ into her last night and therefore we had to go trolley off to go get the famous, ‘Morning after pill.‘ It’s quite an embarassing thing to go and ask for out loud in a busy pharmarcy. I looked at hair dye and pretended i was not a part of the jiggery pokery. Then got bored with her nervous ‘faffing’ and very loudly to make the other rude beings feel uncomfortable asked for it without shame. I’ve watched her puke all day, due to the taking of it, therefore i have OFFICIALLY BANNED any MAN JUICE from my vagina. The boy in question sent her a text reading ‘I would’ve come, since it’s my fault. But i’ve got pick my nephew up from school. I’ll call you.’

Technically him ‘coming‘ in the first place is what caused this bit of her vomit all over my bathroom. I’m taking a vow of celebacy. Don’t think i’m not. I’m going to save myself for Mr.Right. (For a whole ten minutes.) Boys please do try and put condoms on. They’re fun…like willy party hats. It saves us raping you of all your money for child support. It’s awful. That pill has made her properly sick and that’s hardly very becoming. If she swears at Me one more time, i’m punching her.

Just got my nails done. In blood red too. I can rock a blood red with a viscious ‘Va Voom,’ therefore why not? I love nail extentions. They look good being  stroked down a mans body and fools them into believing your sexy. (Remeber they are visual creatures.) I feel all womanly again. There’s nothing like a primp and pamper to make you feel all ‘oooh.’ The girl was quite chatty too. Had no idea what she was saying coz she was barking on at me in Korean. But there was one point where i looked at her massaging my hands and thought she was beautiful. Y’know one of those girls that don’t realize how pretty they are, therefore don’t care for themselves too much. Mid file down, i saw her glance out the window at a ‘hot to trot’ oriental chick, who was blatently all ‘wa wa woo-wee.’ It was sad because she sort of glanced at her, then looked at herself all insecure and like she was nothing. I hate that! NO-ONE is BETTER than you. (Apart from Me ofcourse.) I didn’t know what to do, so I made them turn the radio up and we danced to The Pussycat Dolls like whores. I hope it gave her confidence. But i think it only gave her herpes.

Other than that, my life is delicious. I saw a glamourous 58 yr old in a beige fur, all magical and ‘ooh laa,’ walking around Camden with a handsome on her arm. I saw a teenager who needed a wash, with ‘No-one knows i’m a lesbian’ printed on her front. I was winked at by darlings. Cuddled by a druggie. Wanted to lick a mans bald patch, because it looked so smooth and was told a joke about nuns who stuck ‘spunked on’ candlesticks up their ‘hoo-haa’ to get pregnant. That’s one way to ‘give’ yourself to God.

A boy i know asked me whether i would have a threesome with him on Halloween. Don’t be so ridiculous! Halloweens scary enough without having to deal with boobies, willies and piglets flying around the joint to dirty mood music. I’m 28 years old!! That shit would put my back out!!! Yes… in my colourful past, i’ve experienced many a threesome…of all kinds. But believe me, it’s never as exotic or erotic as you want it to be. It’s awkard and pointless. I get bored and start eating biscuits mid-jiggy. I made someone cry at my last one. Lol. (Years and years ago. Notice how i got that in!) I’d rather just let you all get on with it and i’ll go make everyone a cuppa tea and find the man of my dreams. I’m all on ‘one woman man’ mode. I’m ready to settle down. There’s no ‘floozey’ left in me. I guess some people lose their virginity. I’ve lost my ‘slag.’