I’m extremely loving my Ponty friends right now. Nothing amuses me more than a bit of that old Yorkshire banter. I’m aware that some good folk see me as this pretentious, lovely being of snobby-dobby tragic superificiality. Yet, along with all that…:) i’ll have a sausage, a pint, a banter and a biscuit. Why not? The thing that’s wrong with me is that i have the exterior of a ‘Vixen much Diva’. However, on the inside..i am completely littered with that horrific northern, inappropriate humour. That ‘elbows up’ charm. I’m that Yorkshire pudding eating, flat cap wearing, say it how it is…deliciousness, that everybody hates. The only difference is i can pronounce my words properly. (I love how i’m trying to write a blog expressing how down to earth and northern I am, when i’ve just this second had to FB Chat wazza asking him to name me some very Yorkshire things, to mention in my blog. ) He said Yorkshire puddings, flat caps and teenage pregnacies. 🙂 I do LOVE Wazza…Who’s love life is going surprisingly well, i dare say! He hates it if i ever mention his love life…but i will say that i told him to pretty much stop watching the trailers and be brave enough to enjoy the movie. I also then told him that he doesn’t need to be afriad of ‘ways out,’ because i am the Queen of exits! Ooh more Wazza Yorkshire notes just in: ‘ a yorkshire terrier, sat in a yorkshire pudding, with a yorkie bar balanced on his head… in york.’ 🙂 These are the friends i keep.
Incase you didn’t know, one of my good chick friends, Harriet (who is my best chick friend in all of Ponty land) is also pregnant. I know right? It coudln’t have been timed better! I think she’s in her 9th week or something and i’m in week 15? Yet regardless, it’s GREATNESS! I feel like i’m not going it alone.
Today i found out that Harriet believes her child may have been concieved under a canal bridge by the Hilton. (Which ofcourse i love.) Or on a train. (A bit too germy for me.) 🙂 Pete & I, believe ours was concieved in the executive sweet at the Park Plaza hotel in Leeds, that we were upgraded to, after moaning about the price!
What i enjoy about Pete and I, is that we have absolutely NO idea, AT ALL as to WHERE our child was concieved??? Yet unlike Harriet and her new beau ‘Youngie’…we’ve decided to lie and NOT go with his mum’s car, a dirt-track, or The Etap hotel…which is always full of ‘working’ girls, that wank off pensioners and assylum seekers for £10/an hour.
Harriet also informed the nation (after reading a book by Sophie Kinsella) that if your boyfriend has not asked you to marry him within 18 months, he NEVER will. Under her statement, i viewed a great deal of ‘thats’ bollock’s Harriet,’ comments. But like really…IT’S NOT! I’m like an expert at weddings and proposals. I’d like to meet these men who want to wait for a ‘forever commitment,’ simply because i’m bored of going to my OWN wedding. I truely believe that if your gent has not mentioned marrying you in a positive and serious light, or done his ‘down on one knee’ thing within 18 months, then you really are fucked….because he won’t do it…ever! I mean…he’ll get lazy and feel like he has a wife, when he actually doesn’t. Or he might just not want to settle down. I don’t think this is too bad, as between Peter & I, I am the ‘being’ that’s commitment phobe. Pete’s all lovey dovey, ‘ lets move this party along to the *Forever* box.’ I’ve been through a great deal more emotional trauma than this little bright eyed chappy…so i’m one to think and process my actions, a wee bit more these days and THANK GOD FOR IT! I’m far less impulsive…hence why i’m hardly ever in trouble. But do note girls…i NEVER play the role of ‘his wifey’ ever. I make sure he knows i’m just his girlfriend, ALL the time.
Harriet is making me look like the worst girlfriend in the world ever. I mean, she’s going to be taking her ‘handsome’s’ last name before the baby is born and everything. When Pete reads that he’ll think i don’t love him. Lol. My *strut* towards this action is a great deal slower, in that department..and simply because i don’t want to find myself crying into Christmas baubles again, with the phrase ‘ When i said get a hobby, i meant save the fucking Whales, not sleep with FUCKING boys’ being shouted at me, on a lonely night time street. ( I had to sleep in my car that night, by a Studio city river. A turkish man let me into his home and gave me a cuppa tea out of pity. That’s how ACE i was! Then i got accused of sleeping with him also!!! I was having a CUP OF FUCKING TEA, instead of waiting around to sleep with the fishes…in tinsel. What is wrong with you!?!)
Anyway, i do actually have to get ready now. I hate myself for not tending to my pamper day. I’m losing my touch. I ended up not going to Donny Pride on Saturday simply because it was such a lovely day and i chose to spend it with my Loverboy. It seemed a great deal more fun that drinking juice out of plastic cups, under bunting at a racecourse, that probably played Lady Gaga.
Gay Adam has now decided to audition to be a character at Disney Land Paris, for the second time. (I love this behaviour, simply because i want to say i know Goofy.) He apparently passed the character audition last time, but failed the dance part. How can you be gay and FAIL the dance part!?! That’s the best part! The only part i’d ACE! Anyway, like a true trooper, he has found himself at The Pineapple dance studios learning to McJiggy!, How exciting! I so want him to get it and I sooo want to go to Disney Land PARIS FOR MY birthday! I’m way proud of him for not giving up. Like a Wunna…he just got back on that horse. 😉
Other than that i’m loving the X-factor. It humours me because when reality shows are on, Loverboy and I always fight. We fought on Saturday simply because he decided to focus his attention on the woman who sang ‘Mercy’ weirdly, who should’ve never got through’s CAMEL TOE! He wrongly announced his focus to me. The only camel toe he should be looking at IS MINE! How dare he! So i pulled a strop! *Hitting took place.* (He did that smirk..that he enjoys to do when he’s wound me up! That soon disappeared. Oh how foolish of him!)
Later on i began to talk about the willies of other men, like David Beckham. Pete despises it when i talk about the size of other mens willies, funnily enough. 🙂 I love that we both get jealous and attack. I felt like he was being all cocky since he recieved that ever lasting Wunna blow job at The Premier Inn. It’s like the sexy version of Willy Wonkas candy store. He had this arrogant swagger about him, that i had to beat out. I can’t have him thinking he’s some kind of big willied ‘King’ of me. How dare he!!! When the words, ‘You better know you’re place!’ Are being said…you know it’s love! God give a boy a blowy and he thinks he owns the world.
Anyway he got jealous because i flew out the stats of David Beckhams willy and the biggness of it. He fumbled and then said, ‘Well that girl had a massive camel toe.’ I replied with a ‘What? A big FANNY! That’s not the same as a big willy, dear!’
So he then went on to say, ‘Yeah but she had really big boobs!’ (Omg, like he hasn’t learnt not to challenge me. Like SHUT UP much!!! ) I replied with a ‘Whatever…I have really big boobs.’ He stumbled his way nervously to another ‘Yeah but she…’ However, he saw the ‘yeah but she fucking what…’ in my eyes!
It ended with him cuddling me immediately, saying he was sorry and me letting him kiss me repeatedly until i forgave him. We made up and began our fairytale once more. Beware the green eyed monster! I can’t believe he tried to give me a lecture on the importance of safe sex last night. Like am I on a show right now, actually talking about Safe sex on the telly…Or is he on the show and NOT getting slanted eyed floozies pregnant!!! Puleeese! Have a word.