Why is my whole entire body aching like i’ve worked out like a beast on heat? All i did was go an a walk up the street and now i’m probably gonna need a massage from a ‘Handsome’ who can rub a sore muscle out, to the melody of ‘Oooh.’ I’m not kidding, my whole body is ‘work-out’ sore, but i haven’t even worked out. I enjoy how life wants to ‘tiddly pop’ toy with me, by making me not even have to work out, to have a ‘work out’ sore. I need a warm bubble bath and hands all over me. However, saying that.. i got my hair washed at a little oriental place the other day. I chose it because it looked magical, and also because i figured i could get a decent discount, with me being ‘Off the telly’ and well being Oriental. (You’re eyes. My eyes. They slant. I’M IN!!!)
I loved it there because after the ‘hair washing’ part, they made me jasmine flavoured tea, massaged my whole entire head, to calm me, then did a praying thing behind me, which consisted of breathing. I right now, need you to focus in on the ‘calm me’ part. HOLY ‘you do not even want to know’ Shitzu!! I’m there, sitting by a fucking dragon, surrounded by all things red and gold. My hair’s still wet and i’m ridiculously content. I had a smile of sheer bliss, from ear to ear. I don’t even know why i was so happy? Maybe because i love ‘pamper.‘ But yeah, not sure what happened, but after one more breathy ‘prayey’ bit, i looked at her face through the mirror and saw the fucking Ninja in her eyes!
Just imagine a moment of me trapped in a salon chair prison (cloak on and everything, not able to move my arms..infact she probably had rope around the back of it, to fasten me down.) Then imagine, her face turning to ‘Ninja.’ My face turning to ‘FRIGHT,’ and in three slow motion seconds, her arms going up into the air, my face screws up out of pussy cat fear and her KARATE CHOPPING (and this is NO exaggeration) my upper back and neck REPEATEDLY, and in FULL FORCE, ‘i think i might passout‘ insanity, like i had just wee’d in her tea or something, then kicked her Mother in the mouth. OMG!! I had never been in some much pain in my life and at a fucking hair cut!!! Yet even though i was screaming, and then laughing out loud, at the sheer pain i was going through. You should’ve seen me, i was in tears!! My PRIDE (Oh the pride,) refused to let me tell her i was in pain and therefore saw the battering out, to the very end.
Then that bitch stops, doesn’t even flinch or move a muscle, morphs back into ‘i’m a sweet little tiny, hair cutting, oriental girl,‘ and fucking walks off like it never even happened. A butch one, then came over…so you could imagine my fear!!! However, she just trimmed, blow dryed, then put out her palm for the money. I didn’t even get a discount and i got flippin’ BEAT UP!! I’m off the telly!!! You’re meant to praise me and wave, and give me things for free. NOT karate chop the living shits out of me, whilst my hair is still undone and wet. Eww…talk about kicking a girl when she’s down. (I’m getting told that I’m currently being watched fighting it out to be ‘Paris Hiltons BBF in Dubai.‘ Not to ruin it or anything…but i lose.) God, i’ve totally put myself off from having a rub down my ‘Handsomes’ now.
A girl on Facebook is trying to make me be an escort. Dont be so ridiculous, i’m a floozey for free and with suitors i actually fancy. Wine me. Dine Me. Break my heart. That’s how it goes in Wunna world. There’s no getting paid for dating or sex. (Wacky concept, i know.) I do fairytale love and i do it the wicked way… hopeful, raw and real. I’m not bothered about making money from something like that. I already make money, from doing nothing but being ‘Chrissie Wunna.’ But good on the girls that can be bothered to feel up, ugly 50 year old Arabs, for a grand. That’s not who I AM at all. *Gips up.*
Now a man is trying to make me pose for a ‘tattoo’ magazine. The first thing i said was, ‘How much?’ He didn’t even know, which meant, HE meant for free. Don’t be silly! Nothing like taking advantage! There’s some really cheeky people out there. I’m trying to make a living here and i’ve made a baby ‘mark’ enough now to KNOW what’s right and what’s wrong. This is my year of ‘doing well’ and pretty much my year of not getting used. I mean, i was polite…i just said, ‘…when you know all the details of the job, and the payment, then contact me and i’ll have a think.’ Which in my mind is fair enough and professional. Loads of people try and befriend me and try to make me do jobs for them. Hmm…? In my general life i’m playful and kitty. When it comes to business…i’m ruthless. I’m not someone that’s easily moulded or manipulated….even when drunk.
I’m going through a weird stage with people right now. Where photographers only want to shoot me, to get to see me naked and maybe boastie woastie a delicious made up ‘i had her’ story. Or they think if i work with them, i’ll fancy them on the day, like it’s a date and not just work. It makes me all uncomfortable, because again, i’m not anything like that. I catergorize evertyhing. Nothing is mixed and if i’m made to feel uncomfortable, you’re fucked, coz i become highly rebellious, with a streak of the old ‘tell it how it is.’ Lovely! Lovely. All smiles! Ooh i fancy pasta! Oh and i’m devasted because it seems if you re-sleep with the boy that TOOK your virginity…you actually DON’T get it back. 🙁
Taken at No.5 Cavendish.