I am in BIG SHIT! So yesterday, i had zero internet connection, because the Gods of Cyberland, who are usually quite welcoming, cut me out of their ‘decent wireless connection’ life. Something happened, and i needed to blog. Ofcourse, and because i’m Chrissie Wunna, i strutted to the upstairs study, which has now been turned into a temple, to *panic* myself onto the computer and release my mind, body and spirit of the *drama* that was burdening me, ever so muchly.
I get to my computer…it fools me into believing the worlds a safer place and then gives me a dirty *middle finger* and refuses to let me vent on the world wide web! Heellllooo? I’m an attention whorey, blogging genius! I NEED my blog, in times of *panic.* I have a druggie like addiction to it. You had never seen me so wild…apart from that one time I told Harriet that i had an argument with a washing basket and stabbed a sausage. Infact, due to her being the same kind of hormonal, i sent her a text last night, informing her that i would hide sausages around her life, so that she could get anrgy and stab them. Unfortunately, she isn’t in her *angry* phase and apparently cried to a tribute to Lisa Left Eye Lopez, a couple evenings ago. Haha.)
Anyway, when i couldn’t get my own, ‘working internet’ way. And it’s all about me getting my own way. When i don’t get dealt a good hand and i deserve to, i’m usually devasted.
I *hair-tossed.* I *breathed* it out. (Breathing never fucking works. You just look like a horny chimpanzee.) Then after deliciously tantruming, i began blaming others for my beautiful faults. (My ex-husband used to say my ‘faults were what made me beautiful.’ Well he didn’t say that towards the end 🙂 Plus, i’m sh0cked because my best faults didn’t really mature until AFTER the divorce? I became a LEGEND!)
Anyway, bottom line and because i’m jabbering on about nonsense, in ordet to try and avoid the fact that i’m in deep trouble. I have been left in charge of my Mother’s house during her absence to a meditation retreat, in Wales. She’s taken the rest of The Wunna’s with her and left me behind, due to me being the most responsible Wunna, which apparently means i can take care of shit. (‘Mmmkay!’ Do a little black girl, head twist here.) I’ve also been left behind because i’m hormonal.
I’d been doing really well…(10 days she’s gone for, and on Friday, THIS Friday she returns) except, (and please do note, that i hadn’t been doing really well at all. It’s been the most stressful ‘a bit longer than a week’ EVER!) The place is like a circus, and i am covered in sin, scratch marks, the adoration of Loverboy and *puzzled* faces.
Annnway…my Mummy has her favourite kitten. Remember we have 8 and yeah, i know you’re not supposed to pick favoruites, but we all do, it’s how The Wunna’s work. Favourite children, favourite kittens, favourite boys, favourite drinks. It keeps everyone on their toes. *Wink-pout.*
Anyway, Mum’s favourite kitten..which she seemed to have named ‘Lucky Boo,’ (you will see the irony in this shortly,) is now dead. UGH!!! Not only am i gutted, but ofcourse, on my watch, under my supervision, Lucky, just so happens to leap over something sharp (that my Mother would always tell my brother off for leaving on the side table) and well almost in the worst, most awful cartoon fashion ever, have things fall ontop of him and now not be alive.
I thought he was asleep and yeah in a bit of an odd position? But i’m a previously drunken Glamour Puss, i’ve woken up in odder forms, in many a land. I venture down the next morning, before my romantic day with Loverboy, in Pontefract. (He was taking me to Specsavers, to buy sight, and also buying himself a 2010-2011 diary, It makes him feel organized.
Then we gobbled up KFC fillet burger meals, and saw Wunna fans who wiggled with me for giggly moments of joy, as i took my KFC out of the store. I was mildy popular yesterday, because i did everything HOT. I looked like an England Team cheerleader, tiny pleated shirt, little top, wiggly bum, big boobies, eyelashes and googly eyes. I loved every moment of it…as did random male passersby, with cocky, but confident smiles, and well ofcourse my little Petey…who is pretty much now, my EVERYTHING. I’d die for this boy. God, knows how he’s done it, but i’m in love and i’ve never felt so safe. When i’m with him, i’m in this little bubble of ‘ooh.’ Different people bring out, a different side to you and he seems to bring out a dolly softness in me. It’s like we’re kids in love for the first time. He’s just gorgeous and loves me a great deal more deeply now. I can tell because he’s started getting possessive.
There was a big muscley, yellow tight topped old man, trying his luck with the curly haired ‘Glamour Puss,’ outside W H Smiths yesterday. He was old and a bit rotten, but confidentally smiled at me with a sense of ‘You want this, don’t you!’ I didn’t really repsond because i’m not disrespectful to Loverboy. I mean i’d HATE HATE it, if he did that to me. But i did noticed that I had never been so calmly *PUSHED* into a shop more quickly, then I had at that moment. I liked it. Loverboy loves what’s his and doesn’t like others tampering with his ‘Forever after.‘ It’s sexy!
He then spent the whole time cuddling me openly, so ‘yellow muscle guy’ could see that we were ‘in love’ and that he had ‘won,’ the WH Smiths battle of Heroes. (Technically, i won. I was loved all around. 10 points to me. Yipeee.) Loverboy. continued to slag him off in the car. Lol. Pete’s usually quite placid, so seeing him mildy heated, is delicious. I could’ve kissed him forever, but our fillet burgers were far too distracting and we needed to rush to get back home, so his Father could take his grandmother for a new hearing aid. She told me that whenever she talks, it’s almost like her voice is on volume 10, even when she’s whispering. I have a voice like that naturally, and maybe deliberately. When i lose my hearing, i’m (what’s the word?) Oh yeah…fucked!
I’ve rambled haven’t I? What i wanted to say….Lucky Boo, my youngest kitten is no more. 🙁 Playing got the better of him and well…we’re like trees, with thick roots. We choose how we want to grow. He went for the leap of faith, kinda like I would’ve done and is now resting peacefully in the heavens. I have 7 more to keep safe before Friday evening. I’m in BIG shit! I only like trouble that i canhide of balme others for. This sucks. Everythime she goes to that meditation retreat, something or someone dies! Last time, it was nearly my dad. ‘Oh hi mum, yeah. Dads hearts stopped beating and he’s in hospital. Sorry.’
This time…it’s the kitten. She never learns. Meditation retreats in Wales = Bad news. (See how i’m attempting to push the blame onto my own absent Mother.)