Just because I CAN

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Good Saturday Morning, my fine Ladies and Gents and *wink-wink.* Thank you for taking a delightful dip into Wunna land and because you have God now loves you…just so you know. He doesn’t love me…but I assure you he loves you. In fact, Hannah, (Wazza’s girlfriend…well I don’t like to label her as ‘Girlfriend’ as she’s a whole lot more to him than that…but yeah…’girlfriend.’ Labels aren’t always bad,) anyway, yeah…Hannah was passing on encouraging words of wisdom, swirled in kindess to me, for the big old ‘Baby-Ouch-Push.’ (I think I must’ve rambled on about how I had no idea how to raise a boy. In fact, yeah I did…and well she gave me a big old pat on the cyber back, by telling me that boys are way more cuddly than girls. Then I whopped out a bit of ‘labour fear’ at her…and well she encouraged me to ‘hope it goes quickly’ and…’say a prayer.’ πŸ™‚ I love it when things are going to be so painful that the only thing you can resort to as your only bit of life line is ‘hope’ and ‘praying.’ HAHAHA. I sadly replied stating that I had probably used up all my shots with the Good Lord and he was definitely sending me straight to hell. I kinda don’t want to remind him that i’m around and going through something that he can jolly up by making it a bit more painful or dramatic. I think i’ll just gin up before it’s time. (Awww…I miss the old ME, where lunch was gin and life was a blast. πŸ™‚ ) I’ll get on my knees and start ‘Lords Praying’ and he’ll peek, piss himself laughing and say, ‘ah throw her an extra juicy bit of OUCH.’

Okay, so last night everything went back to normal and happy. I did have a weep, but only a little one because i’m preggo-emotional and well i needed a proper weep just for simple release. I had to take make pj bottoms off, because I bent over and split them (when you are splitting LOOSE pyjama bottoms, from bending over you’re in trouble. There is no way at all that I can glorify such an act. I felt like a proper sex symbol,) then I climbed on top of him, to forward facing straddle him…not for sex….you dirty minded trollops.. I then stated that I had to take my pj bottoms ‘not to be sexy, but just because i’m fat’ and then gave him a cuddle, with a cry. We didn’t say much because I wasn’t ready to and he didn’t say much, well he didn’t say anything he truly wanted to say, so those conversations don’t count. The cuddle is what mattered at that time.

Afterward the pants went back on. I hadn’t fully shaved my ‘lady part’ so I rocked the ‘fur bikini.’ πŸ™‚ I can’t even SEE my vagina, let alone attempt to shave it. Well i do attempt to, but it ends up being half Amazon jungle and half bald chicken. It’s like an abused child that is rocking a faux hawk for attention.

I had a lot of things to say, but said nothing. he has a lot of things to say, but said nothing. Making up, is about making up and the resolving of issues is a whole other project. So it got ‘carpet swept.’ Never good. Meaning once again…we will venture to such parts. He feels like he can’t speak him mind because i’ll get angry at him and I feel like I can’t truly stated how I feel, as he’ll refuse to listen and talk over me. But he smiled at me this morning like he loved me, like he really loved me and just wanted me to love him back? I’m confused by everything. But being pregnant is just not a good time to make big decisions. You’re not yourself and your mind is everywhere…but in the good places, like sane, dirty or bright.

Then he asked me to not write about him in my blog, or on Twitter, which i always find disturbing. My blog was here before him and it’s not really going anywhere. I hate it when people try and control what I do or say. Yet I’m especially sceptical when boys tell me not to mention them at all, simply because when Jonny did…it was because he was dating another girl behind my back at the time yet, yet still going out on dates with me, because I had dosh and telly status, meaning I could pay for him. He’d make it sound liek he didn’t want people to know about his life. But it was really because he didn’t want the girl that he was dating to know what he was actually doing, as he was telling her a whole different story. SO she’d be at home thinking, ‘oh he can’t hang out tonight, coz he’s got band practice’ or whatever. Then the next morning skim my blog…and read that we had gone on a date, some tragic romantic walk and he had told me that he loved me. It was awful for both of us. Yet the whole point is, that that particular situation has made me somewhat sceptical of gents who force me not to mention them in my blog..when I’m dating them.

But away from all that, we’re okay, we’re happy and we’re back to normal. We’re exhausted from a mixture of sport, preggoness, holidaying and life. But we’re sexy and you know it. Sometimes, I wish our relationship was simple, like we were a simple couple. Yet we’re both rather complex. Like I see simple, happy couples all the time and think, if we stripped away the glitter, glam, hairspray, feist and swagger…then we’d just be a girl and he’d just be a boy…which we are…and we’d just love, without the ‘show’ of a relationship..at the same time as true love. However, if you take away the glam, glitz, feist and glitter…and you don’t have us. So, i’m just moaning for no reason. We’re happy. Welcome to my mind. (Jeeze! Rubes is going through wardrobe drama. Pete is taking her to The Gillet, (whatever that is) at the Leeds Trinity walk…and wants her to look nice. Now, Rubes is very ‘Diva’ and she just wants to wear what SHE wants to wear, when SHE wants to wear it. He won’t know that because he only see’s her once a week, so i go through the wardrobe drama with her. Lol.) I’ve told her that she needs to look nice and she’s told me that she needs to look like a ZEBRA! UGH!)

I’ve got so much going on…and actually with work right now. A great deal of opportunity has come my way and well I can’t WAIT to just get on with this labour so I can just get on with now. I’ve been a preggo-hontas for far too long now and I can’t stand it. I enjoy how i’ll waddle for a gin, but not for a child. LOL. Mummy of the year.

So, again, before I get stressed i’m going to surrender to life and go shopping. Fuck it. I deserve it. I want my nails doing, a tan, a pamper and just basic purchasing to occur. I need a break.

But yeah, Doncaster here I come. It’s rubbish that it’s raining…but whatever, it means I don’t have to bother curling the weave…it’ll only get rained on and make me look like a drowned…overweight….rat. I’m tired of being a chunka-wunka now. But really. If you see me today please please don’t bother talking to me, unless you are going to offer me spicy food, pineapples, castor oil or a squat session. πŸ™‚ I’m not actually due yet for another month…but whatever,i’m a fast mover. I need a waistline. JEEZE! Now it’s hailing. Happy Spring. ffs

Okay, before I have a rather beautiful breakdown….(ooh Pete’s here…and she has Zebra legs on…lol) I must must go get ready, pull myself together and make like i’m enjoying an imaginary rum. After next week, it’s actually safe for me to have the baby…so I say,lets cheers to that and get Operation *Push-Push* on wheels.

I not keen on shopping in the hail. It makes my tan run. πŸ™‚ Tragical.


Life is about being happy, being a success, being in love and family. Celebrate who you are and what you stand for Be proud of who you are. Don’t take it all so seriously, but make your mark. There are no rules, but your rules. Like I Tweeted the other day, when one chapter closes, open the next and do it with a wiggle, strut, the best pair of heels, smile, wink, flirty nature and a good bra. A good bra is essential…as it gets you into things and out of things much easier. πŸ™‚ I don’t care what anyway says, if you look hot..with a side of brains, be they apparent or hidden..then you can get everything you want. People are nicer to more attractive people. Yeah, you’ll get called a couple of names at times…but so what…you’ll be delicious.

ps/ Pete’s just asked for a Pink Hoodie? I mean, I know we’re ethnic and everything, but is a HOODIE classed as ‘nice wear?’ Lol. Even dressing her up as a Zebra is cuter than hoodie. Lol. Hoodie’s are for runs, slumming it or…well I don’t EVER wear one, they don’t grace my wardrobe. Yet saying that the things that do could terrify Lilly Savage. πŸ™‚

I need to de-stress. I need to find a waistline. I need to Get my Va Voom back on and work, work, limelight WORK!

Just for old times sake and to help you remember that I am ace….


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