When RUM is the answer

Fucking bored! My weave is out of control. I’ve been rained on like the clappers. My tummy is a rumbling and my normal day job is a ‘snooze-fest.’ I’ve been all excited about stepping back into entertainment, with a *peeky-peeky-nice and cheeky* that i can’t at all be bothered with anything else. (Apart from my love life. We all adore a bit of ‘handsome’ with a side of ‘Forever,’ and Keiran’s been nothing short of delightful. He looks at me with eyes that tell me that he loves me. I made him salmon last night, he *paused* claimed he LOVED having a wife, then told me off for being messy again.  I then reminded him that i was about to change our lives for a glitzy one of fame and fortune. He cuddled me..(with his mind) by the washing up, then told me he’d stop complaining if i did.

Right now, i’m all a bubble and a skip-da-dee-doo about Wunnaland, so it’s really rubbish that i keep getting rained on and i’m meaning that shit kind of rain that *spits* at you when you’re trying to strut down a street in your beige faux fur! WORST kind of rain ever! I’m there trying to look someone sexual in my old age, gliding around Leeds city centre with my ‘ooh laa’ and my leopard print muffs. (It says ‘muffS’). Yet instead i end up looking like i was an haggered old asian angry eggroll lady, with rice in her eye, a flying chicken up her arse and not very ‘Jason Derulo’ dance moves.  I had a fight with the rain. It bullied me and won. If you were unlucky enough to be in Leeds, you would have looked to your right and maybe seen a happily glowing couple, arm in arm..with  ‘his & her’ jackets and love hearts circling around them merrily. Look to your left and you would have seen ANGRY Glamour Puss Wunna, having a fucked off fight with a ‘turned upside down’ umbrella by Pret!!! When that happens…[go on..say it] life is shit.I simply looked up to the skies and hoped for the *magic* to happen. I hate the rain. It wets excitement. It’s like someone dribbling on your Chanel. You can tell i’m a fire sign. I’d rather have a bonfire, than a paddle. (Ugh! Now my cuppa tea’s cold.) I KNOW great things are about to happen, i can feel it in my nipple tassles.

On a brighter note…the career is all good. I had a phone audition that went badly. Yippee. (It went badly because i’m completely not right for the ‘role’ that they would want me to play. I was on the phone, looking at myself in the mirror, laughing and shaking my head at how fake i was being. I’m a better person that i thought. 🙂 ) Then i remembered that i was BEST at being Chrissie Wunna and i didn’t want to be anything other than my GREAT self. [Bronze here-Pout.] Whilst i was getting told off for no real reason by a somewhat silver fox, i luckily recieved a DM from @Wazza (who manages this adorable site, incase you didn’t know..) stating that we were pretty much GREATNESS..and might accidentally be doing a rather spiffing dealio..smealio? I can’t believe how our little blog, has turned into this apparently inspirational chunk of life writing..that will hopefully make us millions. I mean, i was in a coffee..no..a bookstore in LA and the coffee maker David, (who’s anorexic and the only man i know who’s life diary actually monitors his cola intake to the year, date and time it was consumed..i nearly burnt his flat down) would hear me ramble on about my tragic ‘fancy this one awful boy, cocktail slurping, party-party’ bullshit…and said ‘You should write a blog.’

Years later..after i had weirdly been disciplined enough to have written one every single day, i met Wazza (who is my oldest friend of all time) in a pub in Pontefract to celebrate his birthday. We were drunk…He said, ‘You know ya blog…well let’s make it a website, I’ll do you one for free.’

Just like that. It was done and history was made. Weird innit. All you need is a bit of discipline and a lot of rum. Oh..and that underlining faith of knowing you can make it and get there because you’re guided by the night stars and headed for Ultimate GREATNESS. Add more rum and dollies you have ‘ooh laa.’

I’m actually making Keiran (the delicious man of my dreams) rum for dinner tonight. #BestWifeEver It’s that recipe that Big Brother Rex finally gave me for chesty colds. It’s meant to make you ‘un-ill’..and not ‘really drunk’…honest 🙂

Tonight is cuddle night. I can’t wait. If you’ve forgotten to have a *cuddle* night with your ‘otherside of the pillow’ then you really are missing out. Our *bubble* is magical and because i love him i intend to rocket our world to glitzy heights of marvel. He looks at me perfectly. We’re finally in a place where we can simply look, gently nod, with a smile..and know that we have our *fairytale.* (We do it all the time.) I feel lucky! On my drive to work this morning he turned his head to me and quietly said ‘I love you and Ruby so much.’

He’s a good man and well i adore that we’ve managed to get to know each other for who we actually are, instead of how we’re portrayed. (Ooh the good office banter is starting…one of them has ‘bubbly boobs’ and is intending on selling ‘Samantha’s’ body for a BMW. The other is talking to people from big framed white sunglasses and a quiff. LOVE IT!)

Now let’s get this book out and this career on the rollio…dust it all over with excitement and ‘dollar-dollar,’ slip on those heels and rock ‘roll’ like it’s never even seen Jagger. I want to be GREATNESS, have a delicious career, be a phenominal mum..a divine wifey, write, inspire, make money from ‘doing life’  and do it all with my angry fucking weave and my finger pointed in the right direction. If i can teach you anything about lfie, from the one i’ve lived..it would simply be that dreams really do come true…every dream you have, someone, somewhere has already achieved it. It means it happens and things move fast! growing up in Hollywood teaches you that! People always fob you off with a ‘believe and you will achieve.’ However i think..yeah everything that’s meant to come to you WILL. YET don’t  only believe it will. DO something to make it bloom with that ever so ‘shimmie-shake’ glitz…just to doubley check. 😉

*Hair-toss-Kitty-OUT*

Ps/ Just Googled myself (because i’m a loser)…love that one option is ‘Buy Chrissie at Amazon.’ I’m for sale? So much better than the days when people just called me a …slag. 🙂

 

 

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