Rambling like a trollop

Travelled back up north this morning, looking like a used up troll. Not sure why i had a moment of reflection in my hotel bathtub?? It’s quite embarassing really. However, no need to fret. I’m back to my old superficial, piece of shit ways again. It seems to work for me. (She pouts.)

I leapt off a train this afternoon (not sure why i said ‘leapt’ as no real leaping took place. I spent the majority of my journey asleep, with my actual face stuck to the table infront of me. Drooling and everything.) I had to go straight into a ‘meet and greet’ at a Doncaster shopping Mall, where i was chased, screamed at and worshipped by a glorious sea of 15 year old girls. (R Kelly eat ya heart out! I refrained from weeing all over them, like the good man himself.) I loved it! It was like i had just returned from saving the world or something lame like that. When all i’d done was, woken up after a night of getting trollied. REJOICE!!!

Teenagers never know what they’re screaming at, but they do it anyway, therefore fooling me into believing  i’m Michael Jackson. My Ego adores such behaviour!! Keep up the good work. Lots of pictures, lots of mobbing, and an obscene amount of birthdays?? I spilled the beans on the other BBF’s and didn’t actually use the word ‘Slag’ this time, so i think i did pretty well. I then did my brilliant impersonation of Ola’s magnificent ‘Pussyfooting’ dance. (OMG! I love Ola for that  dance. It is the greatest thing that could ever happen to a cunt like me.) She is BRILLIANT! And yeah, after about 2 hours, it was all McDone.

I’m not sure what people believe i do on a daily basis? As they can’t seem to believe that i’m on a street, or in a shop, or simply bumming around, tossing my hair to the crazy applause going on in my head. They see me. They question my existance. I wave. They SCREAM. This is now my life. It’s the same as before really….except more people hate me now. (She weeps on the inside.) This one girl wrote on a forum, that i walk around like i think i’m ‘Abbey Clancy’ or something…followed by a juicy ‘you’re not love.’ I wouldn’t really mind too much, except the chick (who shall remain nameless…YOU WHORE,) looked like the village butchers daughter. Y’know the type that even when wasted, you’d still call a ‘roll over and poke.’ So Zip it!! Dont make me blow raspberries on ya belly and wink you to death.

Dont have much else to report, other than it feels great to actually be at home resting. OMG! The powers of ‘rest’ is almost unbelievable. I’ve had no down ‘away from party’ time. So this has been a treaty McTreat-a-thon. I watched the Man U game. Hate football, yet adore boys, in boots, with balls. (Eat me up!) I’m also over talking to any boys with ginger hair, as they keep disappearing on me , and can’t be trusted and well the rest of the day was spent, lying, stealing and flirting with lesbians to build up self esteem. It still hurts when i swallow and yeah the worlds a better place with me in it.

Just got off the phone with Kat, who i’m deciding to be very jealous of because she is rolling off a bundle of 18 year old boys tonight. UGH! I need a british boyfriend. One that adores me. One that i hang out with all the time. Hellooo?? I’m on the telly!!! I’m feeling very unworshipped by English men. I can’t find one out here. Y’know, One that’s not terrified of me. One that’s ballsy, hot, romantic, fun, sweet and a best friend. I’m actually getting pretty desperate (the hormones are a juicing up) and  finding it really more and more difficult to understand the brit boys?? The LA boys eat me up!! You guys hate me! I mean, i must be worth a feel up or something??? But a feel up that wants to stay a bit longer than one ‘she’s a good notch’ night. I’m still filing through you all…yet still i’ve had no joy, well no serious joy. There’s been a bit of a ‘bunk up.’ (She winks.) Yet he doesn’t care enough for my liking. Infact, i don’t know what his deal is??  He never let me get to know him well enough. Boys always think i compare them to other boys that have done me wrong. However that is so far from the truth. I’ve had some AMAZING boyfriends. So i know what’s RIGHT! I know how a girl should be treated, and i know how i need to be treated. Therefore, i more compare new boys, to the boys that ‘got it right’…to see if they measure up. I’m getting a lot of male attention. Yet the right one is nowhere to be found.

This British Boyfriend marlarky, obviously isn’t going to work out.  I need to call ‘Latin Lover.’ I want to click my fingers and have the right boys flung toward me, screened and tested, so i don’t have to hunt. I’m just a highly sexed.. loving girl, (code for: need ‘rumpy’ right now) so i therefore need to be around a decent boy (code for: any boy with big stonker) at all times. One i’m permitted to tamper with. (Just lie to me, i’ll still tamper,) and i need one NOW (insert a ‘goddamit!!’) Cue: Cupid!

Chrissie Wunna

3 thoughts on “Rambling like a trollop”

  1. there were no boys that would have suited you, they stood and they stared like they had never seen a girl before,you would ahve terrified them out of their pants, their girlfriends hit them and got upset if they dared look…lol…. they were so drunk by the fourth performance i could have sat on my arse and picked my nose and still had a crowd of boys saying oooo you are sexy. girls taking fanny shots of ‘that girl from the paris hilton show’ and boys with camera phones poised in front of them…..funny night. wish you had been there,the house was like something from wisteria lane, a mile long red carpet to the marquee, FREE bar, mini cheeseburgers, couple of djs you know the kindof 18th where money was no object….you would have loved to wreck the joint!

  2. Kat-
    NEXT TIME! I’M THERE! I would’ve wrecked the joint and emotionally disturbed every female behind the white picket fence by making out with all their 18 year old boyfriends and eating all their cheeseburgers.
    FREE BAR!!! I’m desperate.


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