Oh god, this allergy thing is really taking it’s toll now Pussy cats. I’m allergic to my tanning lotion. UGH. Why can’t I be allergic to cucumbers, or bees, or fricking perverts? Not my tanning lotion!! Take my soul. Not my TAN!!! Then to make it worse, when people are allergic to things, don’t they usually just get an *itch.* (Oh wait no, that’s an std.) I don’t have an itch…i have ridiculously growing lips!!! They are swelling up, like the lips of a horny chimp. They are *plumping* per second. They are taking over MY FACE! I’m hating it, as they’ve now passed the ‘ooh pouty’ stage and have glided straight through to the EATEN MY FACE stage. I don’t know what i’m gonna do?? I’m meant to be trying to look mildly attractive, for my little night away tomorrow. I can’t do it with these stonkers. I can’t even open my mouth to EAT, without them hurting. How am i gonna perform delicious acts of *hanky panky* if i can’t OPEN my goddamn MOUTH??? Devastated! Whatever, i’ll wing, i’ll live. He’ll adore me….for a while anyway. 😉 I’m not gonna put out if i can’t. I’ll just do a series of pouty glamour poses, until he ejaculates upon himself. Who am i kidding…i’m a slag. lol. I’d like a bit of a feel up. (Oh shut it! I’m an ageing sex symbol!)
My lunch got cancelled, which kinda worked in my favour, as i got to dance around my bedroom, completely in the buff, wearing nothing but my ipod. We all have those cheeky moments, don’t we? It keeps us alive. Then my earphones decided to fuck up on me, mid naked wiggle, making the sound fly from one ear to the other, like madness. It turned something so lovely and melodic, into making me think i heard voices in my head. I can’t do anything right today. Yet i like it when that happens, because it seems to be a medium i flourish in. I get creeped out when things go perfectly right. I’m the mistake making Glamour Puss, who always lands on her heels.
Then my kitten (that bitch) sauntered in and CLAWED me to death. I was fucking starkers, with voices in my head, being strangled by my own Ipod wire and being CLAWED to death my a Kitten i quite wrongly named ‘Putulay.’ (Burmese for ‘Little baby.’) Fucking bitch! But anyway, i’m excited to venture to Liverpool tomorrow for the night. I’m getting my hair did, then travelling up there, to have a daytime binge drinking session in my hotel room, with Mark Byron. At 7-ish… I’m meant to be meeting a handsome for a few drinks etc…it’s kinda like a date. And well, by that time i’ll already be trashed. It’s gonna be one of those Great Wunna moments, where i stagger down, smiling, pretending i can see. When Mark and I hang out, we always get into trouble. I bring it out in people., without meaning to. Last time, we met… i found myself hiding his money (and i’m talking £400 in cold hard cash) in my vagina, on our way to Heaven. ‘Chrissie get me munny out ya fanny!!’
But anyway, i’m just gonna have fun….and i’m gonna make the merry most of it. I’ve already filed it under ‘Oops.’ I can feel it already. I’m great at making an impression. You know i’m gonna wake up with my head in my hands.Yet i’m lucky. I’ll love it. (Jonny is bbm-ing me telling me he is more Miss.World looking, than i’ll ever be. He really does make it easy on me to bully him.) My favourite term of abuse right now, is calling people ‘smelly.’ It makes them really paranoid.
Bag of the day: Carry your crap in the best possible way! I love this bit of ‘OOooh laa.’