Ready to be called ‘Mummy.’

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I’m broody. Omg i’m broody. I’m not exactly sure whats happened, but right now i’m really wanting to start a family. I’m single…which ofcourse would make this little piece of ‘ooh laa’ a bit of a problem. However, still..even though i am a feisty, fabulous femme fatale…I am always on the look out for the man of my dreams. I mean, i am quite relationship oriented. I know i do myself any favours. But very rarely do i get into a serious commitment with a ‘Handsome’ unless, i truely believe that i want to be with them forever. Which means i imagine what it would be like growing old with them, living life with them, becoming a ‘family’ with them. I’ll know right away. ‘Love’ can be built on over time. But a ‘connection’ is immediate. There’s no rules for me. Am i being lame? Maybe it’s because it’s cold out.

Anyhow, not very many boys fit this lovely criteria, hence why i end up dating a few, then after a couple early dates, i just know they’re not right. If i like someone, i just KNOW. I know what’s right for me, simply because i’ve been through so many ‘sexies.’ Good ones. Bad ones. I’ve only really truely loved 2 out of the 200. And well i just think, you need to go through the bad ones, in order to appreciate a ‘good’ one. When i ‘click’ with someone, i ‘click.’ And i love very very hard. ( God, I’ve just had people over for drinks, and one of them had a dog that jumped on my boobies like they were bouncy castles. I pretended i liked it for 4 seconds, then when it began humping me, like i was steak, i told it’s pretty owner, that she needed to keep it calm, or i’d be forced to fuck it. he told me she would ‘nipple gripple’ me, if my perfectly structured nippled wouldn’t ‘twist off’ in her hands like playdoh.)

But yeah, i need a family oriented man. One that i love. One that loves me. One that i can produce with, that ticks all the boxes. One that doesn’t mind living half the time in LA. I mean, i’m the best girlfriend you’re ever gonna have. It’s like having a little bit of everything, in one juicy boobied box. Not all good. Not all bad. But strong. Exciting! Loving. Bold. I’d love a little ‘bambino.’ A baby sized ME…(half him.) Broody. Broody. Broooody.

Just so you know, whilst i’m trying to right this serious blog, about my future CHILD. My best friend Wazza, is sending me pictures that he believes, i need to see before i lay my pretty head down and dream of my ‘Hero.’ I have been sent a picture of a FAT, Bald (with grey bits on the side) MAN, sat on a living room ‘looks like a council estate’ sofa. He is in a tight torquoise, but sequinned (i’ll give him that) womans top, deep purple lycra leggings, slumped back, with his penis sticking out of the top of his leggings, with the crotch bit all wet & stained, and he’s shooting a CUM FOUNTAIN up into his own face. The funny part of it all, is that he actually looks terrified of his own self and well obviously, it is kind of turning me on mildy. I’M TRYING TALK ABOUT MY FUTURE CHILD, LOVE AND MY DREAM MAN HERE! How dare you distract me with cum and sequins and *shocked* faced fat men.

But yeah anyway…*she looks up to the Gods.* Please bless me with the man of my dreams. A man who truely loves me…so we can do the ‘aww’ thing, make babies and…well i can’t think of owt else? (A boy on facebook, has just tagged me in a picture that was nothing but a bed, with rose petals on, candles and heart shapes. Kinda would’ve been sweet, if he hadn’t tagged 42 other girls in it too. He’s a fan not a future.) Boys..there’ s one girl you love. ONE. And it’s the one that no matter what…u can’t help but love.

My best friend ‘Duchess’ whispered in my ear, whilst we were sat in a busy club drunk.

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