I had a night of Indian food and desserts with mini fireworks shooting out the top of them. There was music, wine and good times…then the chef came out to my table to have a little, ‘which ended up being, not so little’ loooong ass natter, natter boast with Me. I felt a bit tipsy magically tinted with boredom (due to the length of his story, which just ends with him hitting on me,) that i actually accidently started to fall asleep and at the table. My eyes actually closed and i nodded off, whilst he was mid story. Hilarious! I’m losing my party girl status! NEVER!!! I hate it when you’re all ‘party, party, fun , fireworks shooting out of cheesecake ‘and then someone out of nowhere appears and puts the dampers on all the merriment, by telling some long ass bedtime story. (My friend was like, ‘Christina, that long ass bedtime story your referring to, is the story of his fucking life. At least pretend to listen!!’) We all went to dinner for my Mothers birthday. I’m not sure i like sit down dinners for birthdays. It’s like, ‘Trapped, sit down, EAT and tell me how great i am, since i was born however many years ago.’ For me, a good amount of wiggling around, being foolish and trying to steal all the limelight, needs to happen. I hate feeling stuck at a table. But it was fun! I mean, i’m my Mothers ‘Vagina litter.’
But yeah the night was grand, especially after overspending on the shopping trip earlier that day. I pretty much bought anything my grubby little oriental hands could grab a hold off. I loved it. Hundreds were simply flittered on sexy little dresses. It’s worth it though! Plus, oddly a great deal of women were being super nice to me yesterday…all day.( I must have issues, if this actually surprises me.) They just couldn’t stop helping, running around the store for me and telling me i was beautiful. At first, i thought they thought… i was gonna do a ‘Snatch it Winona’ on them. So i was feeling a little uneasy. Now i know they were just being nice. I really should of asked to be fanned and graped.
I’m starting to love this marlarky, as it’s usually just the boys, children and the odd group of grannies, who decide to worship the Wunna. Now I’m winning over the ladies. One actually stopped me in a fitting room, whilst i was boobs out and clutching a Julien Macdonald across my front. She caught me by merry surprise and quite bashfully, peeped up to me and said, ‘I love what you do for women. You’re a character. I think it’s great.’ (Aww…) Not sure what i do for women, except piss them off and steal their boyfriends? But i’ll take that! I love the ladies! (ooh, ooh de ladies.)
Mr.Motivator is currently on my box (not that box, you dirty pigs) that’d be too much ‘yeah yeah knee to the elbow, MC hammer trousers,’ bullshit for me. I did try and work out with him, yet his ‘too early in the morning, for that kind of enthusiasm’ just puts me off. Sod him. lol….