The funny thing about…

…life is quite frankly the simply things. Or the ‘dat & tings’ depends on how you want to play it really. (Ooh sorry…hang on. I’m just getting a text back from Pete. I sent him a raunchy text this morning, when i was feeling like a banchee frisk-alot. When a guy begins his reply with a ‘Whooa..’ He’s either shocked, terrifed and needs you to rein yourself in. I’m like a husky dog on heat today! I’m humping chairs and everything. It’s tragical. Walk slow enough and i’ll hump you to! Heelllooo 2nd trimester!! So much better than the morning sickness phase. Phase two…ROCKS!! *Adds heels.*)

Okay, i’m going back in Wunna time to when i would blog about the simple things in the world that were merrying their pretty way around me. (*Sips her McDonalds cola* Oh shut up. I can’t be a Glamour puss all the time.) It was sort of to teach people to notice the small things surrounding them and therefore appreciate the life. I was drunk, when i did it and to be honest, my drunkness made me notice. Yipppee!

Anyway, i’m in a good phase right now, where i’m dipped in tremendous infamy, that if one rubix cubed me in the correct manner.. Icould, or should i say WILL… fumble my way to success. But really, if we look at the big picture… I’m just a slanted eyed girl, cut from the same fleshy fabric as the rest of the world. We’re all working our lives and doing it the best way we know how. Our hearts are beating and well if you slice into us. No matter who we are or where we are. Be us a Queen or a homeless man…quite similarly..we’ll all bleed. ( I love that my friend has a pet wolf and i didn’t even know AND a virtual marriage.)

So yesterday, i was sat in Starbucks, killing ‘good old’ time, with my ooh laa, and staring at a man, a middle aged man, who looked like an older British version, of my LA friend Seth Bartholemew, who i once had a heated moment with in a gym juice closet. Bonking by oranges and protein shake mixers. Niiice! Thank God i’ve moved on from those times. The Starbucks guy had a fold up bike…a concept that to this day i find very clever. I want boyfriend to come with a ‘fold away’ option. You can ride them down a pathy way, then fold them up as you have you’re ‘mocha chooca latte-ya-ya.’ ( I used to make my friends ask for one of those every time i entered a coffee shop…Moulin rouge style. ‘Ask for a mocha chooca latte ya-ya’ – then piss myself when they looked stupid. HAHAHA. EVIL.)

Anyway, yeah the gentleman had a fold away bicycle and a ferocious coffee twitch that would even terrify an old man monster with foul mouthed tourettes. There was no room in the now filled Kings Cross Starbucks, so an old lady, who looked like she enjoyed Shakespeare, asked if she could sit at my table to eat her muffin. 🙂 (Excuse my mind of filth. I don’t know why i find that funny?)

I ofocourse agreed with the grestest of manners…then left after 2 minutes, because i felt rude being their during her muffin eating moment. I love how she intruded her way into my space, then made me feel rude for being  there. I can’t WAIT until i’m old. That lovely, graceful, posh, old…bitch. 🙂

 Before i left to wee for our nation, i noticed a sign above her, NAILED into the wall readingTo ensure that your personal belongings are kept safe. Please make sure they are visible at all times.’  It’s a simple statement that we all forget! But how true!! Girls-this applies to men. YOUR man. It just keeps the environment safe.. if he is visible at all times. Then he won’t be ‘Ashley Cole-ing’ on your sofa, when you’re out ‘Fight, fight, fighting’ for your love, to the soothing sounds of life’s lip sync. We forget the simply marks of logic that make exact sense. Starbucks reminds us..with signs! It is only safe, if it is in your line of vision.

Then i sauntered back to Kings corss to kill another hour. I was all achey and bored now. My long day had kicked in and my legs were feeling it HARDCORE. When you’re carrying your *bump,* you get a great deal more tired than usual. Having a life living inside you, zaps up your energy and fast! I’m in that crappy stage where i am in my 4th month of pregnancy..but to look a,t people would not yet think i am…which quite frankly SUCKS hairy balls! (Infact, that action is what got me into this mess. *Giggle-wink*)

I’m exhausted and pretty much needed to sit down..kinda of like an old person would. But no-one would let me! It was crowded and every seat was a taken. I was dying! I’m pregnant but without the priviledges. People look at me…and oh they did and instead on offering me their seat, they either hit on me or figured i was some young, fit able being…who wasn’t at all carrying a child. UGH! I was miserable and for some reason my eyes began to take it out on some really nice teenage chick, in dark brown Ugg boots, and cream lacy dress. She was all posh and from Cambridge, reading her pink book called ‘Desire’ with her skinny tanned legs! She had shopped at Mango and at that moment i just needed to hate her.

Fiannly some newcastle trisn came and i thundered over to the nearest meatl seat…only to have some young 15 year old boy sit in it before me! UGH! Then i lET an actual grandma sit down, and finally after 40 minutes…i found myself a little ‘sit down’ heaven…funnily enough where that teenage ugg booted, pink Cambridge girl was previosuly sitting.

Bored, unhappy, under the massive electronic train time table board at Kings Cross, thinking the world was draining. It’s odd sitting under that board. You kind of get to look out into the masses, almost like you’re not part of it all and judge. It’s like watching telly..but not only is it real life…it’s inches away from you. Hundreds of beings…passing, standing and waiting.

I was still bored and exhausted. But then God, who know seems to adore me, throws me some entertainment. I close my eyes in a hazy confusion of exhaustion. I open them and see a tranny right infront of me. A tranny who was 5ft 4 in heels…well clogs? He had a beer belly, a Betty Boop wig, a beard and unshaven arms. Top all that off with a pink and black mini dress and a hand bag and you have excitement for my greedy eyes!

No-one looked at him out of politeness but me. I don’t think it’s rude to stare. I think he would want attention. I mean he was a straight up, ‘no effort’ tranny…with not only a set of real life balls. Yet a pair of balls that made him brave enough to strut around being who he wanted to be, without fear. I liiike!! ‘No effort’ trannies are my favourite. They’re always more humble and cute…with beards or without. He just wanted to be a girl and put on a wig and a dress. I like them more then those fierce Queens, who *finger snap* in my face and hate on me in bars for being a real life girl. This tranny, i wanted to adopt and cuddle and teach how to strut. I wanted to transform him into ME!!! Haha! I looked at him and smiled. He looked at me and smiled. I felt awful knowing that when he went to bed that night, he had to take all of his makeup off, his wig and his tights, and turn back into a beer bellied man…something that he obviously did not ever want to be. But then behind him i saw Christopher Biggins. Yes the real life one. He’d just come off a train and no-one noticed it was him, apart from me. He was in a simple grey business suit, looking rather straight and trying to make a quick left hand exit to a waiting car. His man satchel gave him away. No straight would have spent so much money, or made so much of an effort to have that perfectly hand stitched piece of leathery ‘ooh laa,’ simply to carry documents. My eyes *zoomed* to it. I do that with men. For some reason, i always look at what they choose to carry their life in? It tells me a lot.

I then got up, because my train was arriving on Platform 6. That ‘You’re too good to be true’ song was flooding through my head and simply because whilst i was tubing in, from the Central line to the Northern line (Bank Branch) a busker was playing it loudly and singing…with whatever instrument he had a going! I actually met a girl i once worked iwht inManchester at the Tottenham Court Rode station, before my Freemantle meeting. She noticed me immediately. I was in my own world. We had a banter. Lovely she is. But she gave me that face when i was telling her what i was up to, that suggested she was young and wanted to be doing the same. Some of the BBF’s do that with each other. It’s one of those sad faces, that is covered up with a ‘must pretend to be happy.’ I did it a lot in my early twenties…so don’t worry! (Before you all start! 🙂 )

That’s pretty all i have to report. Except i’ve got interview questions that i now really need to do! Already from yesterday, my name has been forwarded for another BBC project. (You are rewarded for your good work Dollies.) Tonight is a BIG night because tonight is the night that Pete, aka Loverboy, meets my family. I’ve met his loads, yet he’s never met mine. Weird really to say we’v ebeen dating so long and we’re now having a baby! Lol. I’m rubbish liek that. Only two boys i’ve ever dated has met them and because i’m rather protective over those i love, they are the only people…apart from my friends, who i can trust to adore me always in life.  I always love the people who adore me anyway, even if i’ve done them wrong, They’re my favourite. I warm to them…naturally.

So yes. Tonight at 8pm, we’re all venturing to ‘Aagrah’ (The Doncaster one) for the big introduction over popadums and pickle trays! 🙂 Pete is over the moon, because it finally makes him feel like he’s fully accepted..even though he always was? My family are excited because they finally get to see the ‘handsome’ that i’ve apparently ebeen hiding away! lol. I’ve left it so long,  that now everyone…but me…is nervous! Just how i like it!! HAHAHA! Oopsie!

(Oh my phones ringing? Oh! It’s the researcher for the BBC show. Godda go…My foul mouth is getting me far!)

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