Woke up this morning, in pink frilly knickers, a scarf that i had bundled around my neck in the middle of the night, due to a cold nip of air and a kitten. The skies were filled with a delicious powder blue and the window predicted a false delicious warmth. You know what i mean. It’s that crisp Autumn type of weather. When you glance at it from the comfort of your indoors, it looks like it would be all fuzzy, warm and like you could celebrate with an umbrella drink…or two? Yet if you actually venture out into the clear blue air…it’s fucking FREEZING. Story of my life! Well not really, because right now, my life is ace! I’m melting Iceland with my *sizzle.*
Other than that, i watched a bumble bee circle it’s way around my ceiling,t his merry morning. I glared at it,w ith my bimbo eyes, that men refer to as ‘googly.’ It kept stopping and smashing itself into the wall, like it was sauced up on moonshine. But why? It’s meant to honey making or whatever, in some oval comb of busy-ness. Yet this little bee of self abuse, instead chose to fly around the ceiling of a well boobied Burmese barbie… and like a pisshead. (For some reason i’m getting a flashback of my friend Todd in LA cycling around my bedroom at 4.25am, after his rather disturbing coke binge in nothing but a diaper. Say no to drugs and simply because it makes you resort to horrific fashion choices. The cycle was yellow…just incase you needed to know. )
I’ve always known that in order for something to truely find itself…it’s strength, it’s kitty ‘ooh.’ It kinda has to destroy itself from within…an that really hurts. 🙂 *Ouchy.* Yet, i never knew bees were perverted…yet like most things that make ‘honey’…they are. I mean, everytime i tried to dolly stretch, out of bed, displaying a tiny little nipple peek of *cheeky cheeky.* The bee would fly into a wall, injure himself and simply so he could land on my tit. I’m over bee’s. They’re rubbish.
Anyway, other than that i tend to my daily routine of face washing. I’m there thinking, i’m all sexy and Gods gift to every facebook perv in all of the land. *Trophy please.* And what happens!!! I go to pat down my face with the very pinkiest of towels and as I gleefully, smear the fluffly bundle all over my pretty money maker (my face, not my fanny)…and note i’m doing it like it’s some kind of magical fountain of youth. It could’ve been a herabl essence advert! I realise that the kitten…well one of those tiny fluff balls of sluttiness ( i have 7, they all have sex)…had wee’d and i do mean PROPERLY wee’d, all over it! I was wiping it ALL OVER MY [swear lots in this space] FACE! I am soo angry!!! I mean, I’m a flipping Glamour puss. I’m trying to have sex appeal, ooh laa and alsorts!! Today, on August 11th, 2010. I smeared my face in cat piss and here I am wondering why i’m not the face of Mac! *Puts towel down, cries into her tea. Then sights hot shirtless on facebook and perks up once more.*
I turned my phone off last night by accident, which meant when i ‘red phoned’ it on today, i was bombarded with a bitty blips of messages via text. I was worried about my Hot LA friend Theo, but i recieved a text saying ‘I’m partying in Manchester RIGHT NOW,’ therefore it seems he’s alright. Theo and I are similiar. We can always find ourselves a good time. Even if we’re in a different country. I’m trying to rejumble my schedule so i can get to see him. It’s all a bit tight right now, with the book, shoots and baby. But lets hope i get a green light.This guy is one of my best friend in the world EVER! I’m totally being shit.
Plus, i’m also finding it hard to socialize sober. As you may know, i’m tee-total right now and it’s devastating. I can’t remember ever being tee-total? Yet it’s been forced upon me…like…[put in a std here.] I mean what is there to do sober…like really? I mean I’m Chrissie Wunna…i like glamour and sparkles and funtime and nipple tassles. That’s all decorated with cocktails, laughter and sinning. If i’m in a place and i’m sober…you can always tell because i look terrified.
Loverboy’s dad took me on a walk the other week, in the woods. Loverboy and a border collie, DID go with us…i mean his dad wasn’t just walking me through woods.. alone. (I’m trying not to crack any inappropriate jokes here, as i simply cannot get shunned by the Wattis family. They’re total keepers nad the only parents who like me…apart from the ones that are forced to like me…and they are the Wunna’s.) I’m not one for walking, but Pete kinda made me go on it for exercise. It actually wasn’t too bad and i HATE a long ass walk. I mean in order for me to go on a hike, there better be booze, or a prize at the end of it. The prize better me a dream come true, and the booze better be good! I get tricked into walks a lot. Yet this one really was lovely. We went through enchanted gardens and walked across little broken hand made bridges. I had to be on my Blackberry for most of it, as Sharon my screening lady needed to talk to me.
At the end of the walk i found rugby players. There IS a GOD! Made it all worthwhile. Loverboy sort of pushed me forward, with a ‘Don’t you look at them!’ Hahaha! We’re doing really well right night. Last night was movie night and yeah, i’d say we’re probably one of the best couples this world has to offer. We’re in love and it’s gone back to ‘fairytale.’ I’ve noticed that whenever i wear a dress that compliments by breastage, he’s nicer to me. He’s always nice to me, but the breastage makes him moisturise my feet and make me dinner. 🙂
Apparently someone saw me on telly last night talking about masturbation. Lovely. Lovely. Classy bird! I am on the Channel 5 show ‘Sex Lessons.’ It’s not naughty…more informative! I’m telling people about my sexual experiences and simply so they taper down the path of good girl and not bad girl. The bedroom is an awful place to play at times. You have to be ‘of age,’ strong and in love. Imean, knowing what i know now…i would NEVER bedroom tango with ANYONE i didn’t actually truely care about a lot. Someone who really wanted a future with me. That’s why boys get me all wrong. My slaggy phase was in LA, in my early twenties, because of a divorce and a new found popularity. It was my loneliness time and a numbers game to fidn my Mr. Right. I went through them. I’m all good now. There’s no pokery for no real reason, whatsoever. I’m stable, i’m happy and i’m waving the flag for it. (A boy on Facebook just sent me a message reading, ‘I wunna lick your pussy.’ Nice play on words dear sir. However that position is pretty much taken. If he came near my tender lady part, it would turn bitchy and bite him.) I mean why do boys think that that’s going to get them the girl?? GO BACK TO ROMANCE CAMP!!! I can’t wake up to pervs on a Wednesday. It doesn’t do anyone any good. It makes me want a McDonalds. (I’ve even sent someone out to get me one.)
I’ve got a lot of work to get through today and i love how now i have a book coming out everyone’s all worried about what i’ve written about them. I’m being asked for allsorts to be deleted and it humours me deeply. The ‘allsorts’ are the best bits and the real part of my life. It’s not going anywhere…but to publication. 😉