Just tell me that you love me…even if you don’t mean it,’ said the lowly coffee making man, to the Ultimate Glamour puss, as he passes her her change, over a gingerbreaded counter and tells her her latte will be waiting at the other end. Then with an ‘I love you’ and a *wink,* she wiggles over & away… never to be seen again. God, how good is my life right now. I feel all old school Glamour, all bright and magical. I’m having men go simply giddy, at my very presence..and for no other reason than that delicious Wunna ‘Charm.’ I’m liking it very much. This ‘Puss’ is rocking her ‘sizzle’ like Satan. Proceed with caution…as i really don’t have it under control.
Other than that, i s pent the whole of yesterday doing interviews. Phone interviews, emailed interviews and filmed interviews. For those of you who don’t know, I’ll tell ya that, due to a little rubbish bloggage i write, people all over the world, have now found an unhealthy interest in me, & want to know what makes me tick, what makes me ‘ME’ and why i tell my story. Therefore all yesterday from mid-afternoon until 1 o clock in the morning, i answered questions about myself over and over again.. for fresh ears. Now, as we all know, my favourite subject is well ME and (haha..god i’m awful) let me tell you, i have never been more exhausted in my life. I mean, it’s a lot harder than you think, having to talk, or answer questions about your merry self for 13hrs straight and kind of try to keep your reputation of ‘funny, charming, ooh laa’ a float.
Now i’m not very good at keeping a whole ‘fakety-lovely, lovely’ a going if i’m tired. I’m quite raw, direct and to the point. Therefore i’ll usually just laugh things off, or bundle on the wit and tell them that i’m knackered. However, it began to dawn on little selfish me, that some of these people have been waiting a rather long time to have a bit of a talk with The Wunna. So, i did what any glamour puss would do and sent some darling lovely of a boy, to get a bottle of the finest wine. They came back with Moet. I did the rest of my interviews DRUNK, and let me tell you…they said, I gave the best interviews they had ever had. Hahahaha…10 points.
The last interview i did was via email…where they send you the questions…and that was with 50Fifty Magazine in America. (Which by the way, is where i’m headed back. Hence the ‘re-branch.’) And my questions at first were pretty standard, y’know about where i’m from, Paris Hilton, my previous marriage…then they got onto the subject of ‘sex.’ Now if you’re a bit pissed on Moet and having to write your answers, AND your a boobied blogger, who is quite good at expressing herself via the fine art of written word…YOU ARE dangerous. I mean, i talked about everything. I WENT TO TOWN on it…and I even told them i was wasted. I didn’t care, that’s the beauty of Chrissie Wunna. I mean, i write half of my blogs tipsy anyway and luckily it works for me. (If you go out of your way to not have a pathetically *squeaky* clean image, then when you do something baaaad, you’re sort of forgiven for it, or even applauded for it. Then when you pull ‘charity’ out ya arse…they’re shocked! It’s amazing and rather clever of me, even if i do say so myself!)
Anyhow, one of the questions they asked me was whether i had I found this oddly hilarious and replied with ‘ ‘a routine before sex?’ However, my proper answer to that, for those of you who might want to know is, yes i do grab my tap shoes…(JOKE.) No, I actually go on ‘moments’ & energies. I’m quite sensual, therefore I know how to please a man in the bedroom and i know how to please myself. All men are different, therefore if you have a routine…you shouldn’t. (Wink.Pout.) I kinda wish i made something random up now… just to be funny. ( ..a routine??? Hahaha…well no. I don’t go grab my tap shoes and begin madly performing.’ ‘Yes, i light candles, & make them shave me whilst i say the Lords Prayer.’)
I can’t type anymore. My hands are cold. Funnily enough, i’m going to be answering all those questions you sent me, where i thought there would be 5, but there ended up being 505. But before that, i need to submit to the powers of my fucking Ryvitta *kill me* diet. I fucking HATE it and i’m 100% completely against diets..but look i’m doing it and for no reason, because i don’t actually need to lose weight? I think i’m just bored. Like i tweeted, ‘i love my curves far to much to lose them to rye bread substitute.’