Today i’m feeling fit, healthy and a little bit wealthy. Well not really. It’s all lies. I don’t feel remotely healthy but i foolishly believe that if i say it to myself enough, my body will miraculously heal. I’m on a mission, (a dodgey one) to get healthy. I’m not sure as to how i’m going to achieve such a lofty goal? Yet i’m sure i’ll get there somehow. I’ll just eat better and sweat a little. I’ve never been one to enjoy sporting activities….that don’t go to music or end in an ‘ugh-ugh’ orgasm. I’m a glamour puss. I refuse to let my body be uneccessarily pushed to it’s ultimate sweaty limits. I don’t know why people waste their time running around training tracks and on the spot on treadmills, until they reach sheer exhaustion and want to keel over an die. I’m not going out like that. I’m far too beautiful. Things should be done slowly, glamourously, with diamonds and a midget posse, who act as devoted slaves. Please…i can sweat and die some other day.
So Shopping was great yesterday. Chatted to a few girls in Topshop and posed for a few pictures. I’m feeling calm content and grateful for most of lifes beautiful things. I stayed up until 2am last night MSN-ing with Fernando (the new dreamy hot guy i can’t help but perv on) and you know what? I actually sort of fancy him. However, i’m sure the moment will pass. I ‘crush’ a lot. Yet this dashing suitor is simply delicious. Almost ‘Dream Man’ material and ofcourse adores me. He had his webcam on and i just watched him type, watched his expressions. (Yes, i am a stalker.) Beautiful. I kissed my screen 27 times. He’s delicious and ofcourse in Italy with sicilian blood running through his veins. I’ve totally got into this webcam marlarky. I never put mine on, but i do ‘people watch’ others. It sounds so dirty….and yes it quite frankly is.
So a good friend of mine, who i often get drunk with and exchange clothes with in bars, was at The Abbey in LA yesterday. Sunday afternoon is ‘good times’ at The Abbey in LA during the Summer months. I’ve sinned a lot and lost my dignity on many a Sunday and far to willingly within those semen stained gates. Anyway, he sent me a message telling me that 3 steamy hot men in pink speedos, with spank sticks, sexual pleasure packs and holding sun screen in order to rub down burning bodies came up to him and simply asked, ‘Where’s Chrissie Wunna?‘
I am SOOOOO on the wrong continent!! Fuck work over here in dear old Blighty. The fun people are in pink speedos, with pleasure packs and asking for ME goddamit!!! I have my priorities all messed up. The sheer thought of missing all the speedo fun, is making me want to gauge my own eyes out. It’s soo annoying. But i’m on an adventure, so i guess for now i have to deal with the pain. It’s like a Stiletto to the heart.
I’ve just had someone tell me they want to ‘kidnap’ me and take me to a ‘cavern.’ Erm…? That doesn’t sound too romantic to me. It sounds soo Fred West. Which i’m totally up for, however just not the ‘buried under the patio’ part. The sexual abuse section doesn’t seem so bad. I’m knocking on, i need all the feel ups i can get.