Woke up this morning Bloomsbury, London, in a boys baby pink, fully armed crew neck t-shirt, a pair of mens blue & white stripey pyjama bottoms, with an odd hole in the crotch part, four photos of people dressed as bunnies in photo booths, a Paris Hilton poster, a completely hungover gay, who i believe responds to the name
Samuel J Hextall and all this under black and white sheets, full heating and to the magically soothing sounds of an alarm clock that was playing a ‘Little Mermaid’ song at Me. This is how my day began. I’ve felt shit for most of it. Now let me tell how i ended up in such a glorious position. To be honest when i woke up, i didn’t feel too bad….yet unfortunately it was because i was still drunk.
Yesterday at around 5.30pm, i meet my darling bitch Samuel ‘almost at’ his work place in Camden. I was kinda late due to disgustingly horny boys littering the streets in packs of four and refusing to let me get on with my night, without hassle. I did look amazing though. Therefore they really did have rather good taste in floozies. He had his elf hat on, and a giant sack of what we were calling ‘fan mail,’ trailing behind him. We walk down Camden high street, it’s freezing, it’s dark and well we’re about to embark on a dear night of drinking…after deciding that we couldn’t be arsed to go to the Shipwrecked party (because we don’t have to be) and instead we were going to get absolutely trashed, then do drinks around soho whilst commiting to being complete dickheads. We bought vodka…BAD CHOICE! ( ‘Oooh it never gives me a hangover…,’ said the gay !!!)
We’re at his flat, colour co-ordinating outfits. (I was convincing him to dress 100% camp. I mean if ur gay, ur gay. Don’t be confusing whores like me, by dressing straight. You WILL get ya googlies tickled & u WILL cry.) All is fine and dandy, we’re dancing to music, tweeting, laughing, yeah…then we began drinking. Don’t know what happened, but we got sooooo trashed soooo fast after only a bottle of £12 Smirnoff & well i could already feel a ‘room spin’ coming on. We did what any decent ‘off the telly’ people would do and put on the DVD’s of ‘Paris Hiltons British Best Friend,’ our own show on, and yeah the asian one is kinda annoying. (Don’t hate!!) We loved it!! Pissed Ourselves. Infact, it’s actually really weird watching it after a while on a tv, because we’re actually the people in that little box of ‘telly.’ It’s so bizarre…but let me tell you GREAT when fucking pissed!!! Just so you know, Me & Sam hated each other when we first moved into the mansion. Then after episode 2, we became Best best Friends, because no-one else drank or knew how to have a good time!!
Completely fucked up now, and on our way ‘iced’ up in bling and pink into soho. We took a cab, that came to about £3. (Haha..coz we couldn’t be bothered to walk.) Found ourselves in Ku Bar, where we oggled half naked screen men, chatted to the fit bartenders, talked to gays who oddly found my ‘pouting’ amazing, and well we promised that were weren’t gonna drink in there. We got a redbull…followed by a VODKA cranberry each. You are not understanding how drunk we were already. Like I cannot actually remember how we left and got to the next place? I just remember bumping into Luke outside Pre-Bar, all boobied and white. Him talking about Jonny. Us going on about Jedward and then being in Pre-bar, sat down in the back, amongst lesbos, disco lights and Cheryl Cole ‘fight fight fighting’ for whatever love she’s fighting for in our background. I was being hassled and i was 98% trollied. I made a few phone calls. I remember a bar man removing me from behind the bar, where i believed i would beable to here my phone conversation better. ( ‘You can’t stand there!!!‘ /Can’t I? Coz i am! *returns to phone conversation* ‘Now tell me babe…ARE YOU GAY, coz everyones saying that ur sucking off men???’)
I have zero idea what happened next? (Even though i seem to keep being able to blog the events??) We were that blotto. I must have blinked and found myself in Balans. We can’t remember it AT ALL. But we were brought bread, and chips & cocktails. OMG! We must have been horrendous!! I feel terrible. I can imagine me being an annoying yet sexy DICKHEAD. Then a boy named ‘jake’ came. We forced him to drink our drinks. Lovely he was! I took one sip of water that was being forced upon me and i had to run down to the toilets, after smacking into EVERY single beam, post and human around me, i flung the door open, PUKED in the loo, and then had a dandy of a chica, look at me, smile and say ‘Are you Chrissie off that Paris show?’
I can’t remember anything else. We ended up at G-A-Y late. I mean we had a good old time, but COULD not drink AT ALL. (Well i had a cherry VK.) We literally had to try and stop drinking at 9pm. Fucking 9 the fuck PM babes, due to the fact we are awful drunken slags of the Devil, who’s Mummies my not have loved us enough, but it seemed to not matter because the masses and horny other floozies did!
Danced at G-A-Y on some platform, Partied like CHAMPIONs. You do not even know. I was falling around like a trollop. I’m not proud. But the boys fought over my darling sammie, like their life depended on it. Jake was ace. I was Londons Ultimate Glamour Puss ‘IT,’ i puked at the simple thought of water. It was 3am. I ended up at his, after a weird amount of singing on the street about certain Avenues. Talked about gay sex. God knows how we walked home. Ended up being sams ‘other side’ of the bed, after passing out, fully eyelashed and clothed to ‘Will & Grace.’
Woke up in his Pj’s, did the walk of shame which included public transport. Felt shit all day! Phoned Jonny. And well whatever i said to ‘lash’ on the phone must have been good, coz he’s ended up right here, right now, sitting opposite me smoking pot. (I don’t like stoners!)