The Art of The Bimbo

Well i certainly shopped ’til i dropped today. I did myself proud…and now feel like a twat, as i’m glaring at all the things that i happily purchased (which is currently heaped on my boudoir floor, like a useless gimp) and thinking it’s all just a pile of ‘must need’ nonsense. I love my ‘must need’ nonsense. It makes me happy. When i shop, i either buy nothing, or simply buy EVERYTHING. I don’t even look at what i’m buying. If for one second i think i might need it in my life, be it bronzer, bags, boobs or boys…it gets thrown into my arms and taken to the nearest ‘Please Pay Here’ sign. I think i must be filling a void in my life with meaningless ‘stuff.’ But ah well…i can think about that later. For now i have EVERYTHING and i LOVE it! (I also had my nails re- done today, to the sound of asian love songs. It’s now easier to type and i’ve made the executive decision to despise asian love songs. They’re so howly. I’d rather kill myself then have someone screech one of those at me. That’s not love. That’s pain!)

I’m not sure what’s happening right now, but i’m getting notice a lot, stopped a lot, and camera phone pictured a lot…up north. I thought this only happened when you had slept with Russell brand, been on the X-factor, or raped your own children in a cellar…but it seems i’m fucking GREATNESS too. I’m just going to go with it and simply because i don’t know whats happenning?? Out of everyone who whispered about me as i walked by, or yelled at me, or took a picture of me and my mum shopping, (I enjoy the run infront of us move, out of nowhere with an eager ‘snap.’ It scares the shits out of me and makes me swear before i smile at you,) only 6 people, out of the bunch actually stopped me to talk to them. You can actually stop me if you see me. I’m not going to bite ya head off. Well maybe if you’re handsome?  (wink wink) I had 15 yr old boys run up to me today for a change. They were the sweetest little things i had ever seen. I’m so Gary Glitter right now. It’s atrocious. Yet so ‘Me.’

I’ve just got done doing an very long interview for Flirt magazine. I love an interview, the longer the better, as i get to do what i do best…chat shit. I re-named my interview, a ‘gin’-terview, as i also managed to sneak in a little G&T, half way through. I was quite honest and got praised for it. I love praise now. It really makes me think i’m a better person. I’m so loving my nails right now.  (Sorry i’m getting distracted.) I made a quick stop at a beauty parlour. I’ve always wanted to own luxurious beauty parlours. Y’know ones where people walk in a ‘Plainer than Janer’ and walk out a whore named ‘Candy.’ I went in a Floozey, and came out a bit tired to be honest.

Other than that i’ve been a fur shoulder to cry on. One of my guy friends is all cut up about a girl he loves, who doesn’t love him back. (Snooze. When will you learn?) I’ve had a headache for most of the day and i didn’t even drink last night and i’m actually taking over the world without you even knowing. Oh and shit, someone committed to calling me a Bimbo today by screaming ‘What a Bimbo’ at me, whilst i was buying a ‘Passionate Fling’ smoothie. I’m like, you’ve only just noticed??  How rude of you! I’ve been mastering the art of Bimbo-ing for years and only NOW you praise me in such a manner. To be honest i was wearing a tiny skirt and heels, in a fur, in the rain. Even my own Mother was like, ‘Who would wear that!!!’ I simply replied as we were throwing over-priced t-shirts into broken baskets…’A fucking Super Star.’ Then she bought socks and we went home.

Chrissie Wunna

9 thoughts on “The Art of The Bimbo”

Leave a comment

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.