Lets Get It Off My Chest…

I’ve been devilishly exciting today, (not done fucking anything, but answer my phone, nod, pout and point at things i want to be brought to me) and as a result decided to ridicule my existance for the merry kicks of others! I’m currently just getting from a moment in beige Ugg boots, polka dot pyjama bottoms, a farmers flat cap, and a bra, with my weave, my eyelashes and my boobs, trying to hide behind a gate, where dogs frequently go to poo, so that i don’t look like a smoker…and i don’t at all get noticed. I then realized i was on a PUBLIC footpath, i gave in and *middle fingered* the world. I’m sick of me today. I’m in a process of learning to be calm and it’s not working. I’m just a feisty girl and it’s gonna take a firm hand or a lot of money 🙂 to tame me.

Other than that, I’ve decided i want a pet monkey (oh-er) and i am insisting on calling it ‘Gloria.’ I don’t actually really want a monkey. I mean, i can’t even look after my weave, let alone a fucking chimpanzee. However, the moment was quite a blissful one. I then went on to decide, (after hearing the song on repeat in the background) that it probably now is a must, that i get to meet the ‘Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy from Company B.’ Who is this fella? His title is quite a mouthful…yet it’s been put to melody therefore he must be a CHAMPION. My title (slag) is yet to be put to melody. It’s more of an action and usually one where a boy is rolling me out of his bed sheets and promising me he’ll call.

It’s pancake day. I’ve had no pancakes. I attempted to make some, however it’s far too messy and far too exhausting. Glamour Pusses don’t appreciate things that take too much effort. Be it pancakes, life or boys? We always find a good, solid, easy way around tedious labour, and it usually begins with a *wink.* Remember that! (I’m a bit ‘sad face’ at that boy, for not immediately wanting to jump in and take me as his own. I’m not used to such behaviour. It makes me believe that he’s either not drunk enough, or crackers. 🙂 )

Wazza had a birthday cake, in the form of a chocolately caterpillar from Asda. His Mum said she baked it, but she bought it. (Which technically is the same in the world i grew up in!)  I want to be a chocolately caterpillar from Asda. No, infact, i take that back…he’d eat my face and then i’d have to hit him. I feel like this year is going to be a shit year of love for me. I’m a keeper, that no-one apart from hundreds of perverts want to keep. (Hahaha…I love it when i play damsel in distress!) No, but really…i’ve just turned extremely picky and in a positive way, i’m just refusing to settle for just anyone and if that means flying deliciously ‘solo’ and enjoying being the Ultimate Glamour Puss. Then congrats to me (*confetti shower outburst.*) I’m not selling myself short. I’m fun loving and fancy free…yet at heart a relationship oriented girl. It’s the ‘all or nothing’ in me. There’s no room for grey. I’m meeting so many boys who can’t make strong, direct, decisions. I need romance. I need ‘ooh laa.’ I want stability. A big, strong, gentle, MAN!!

I’m enjoying the beginnings of the phrase ‘The Glamour Puss Olympic Dating Challenge.’ It needs to be done. However, i think i’m doing it, without really even realizing I am. Unfortunate really. Boyfriend please! Why am i single? I dreamt it was the end of the world last night. I really did, no joke. It was one of those dreams that the sandman forces you to live. I believe it was a sign from the dear lord, telling me to be terrified. Aaah well…nice try. I’m not scared. Pass me my dildo! (Infact, i believe a company is mailing me a bunch of Dildos to review. Oh the lofty heights of Fame. Or should i name it, ‘off the telly-slag stardom.‘)

The Brits are on tonight. I’m extremely excited for it all. Yet I do need to get my fix of ‘What Katie Did Next,’ which is on at the same time. I need company. I need fun. I’m feeling bored and when this pussy cat is bored, she commits to an awful amount of jiggery pokery, in the form of ‘nuisancing’ in order to quench her thirst for excitment. I guess the ‘creative’ in me isn’t being stretched. I’m naturally a performer, anentertainer, a creative artist of ‘ooh.’ I’ve accidentally turned myself into a business woman, socialiting, blog writing lunatic. But i’m not complaining, i’m slowing becoming a ‘BRAND.’ It’s what i aways wanted…so why moan? (I’m only grumpy because i’m sober.) I love that advert that tells you to find a ‘foamy gnome’ in a pack of Rowntrees Randoms!! If you do, you win a prize. The prize, is a trip to a ‘RANDOM’ place. The word ‘random’ is hardly appealing in this case now is it! It could fucking be anywhere??? I need to KNOW where i’m gonna get sent off to, before i flipping begin a rather tedious hunt for a fucking GNOME, made out of strawberry FOAM!! (You can insert *swearing* anywhere you want in this blog. It’s the beauty of ChrissieWunna.Com. It’s ‘interactive’ like that!) I am fucking AMAZING!

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