Don’t you kinda feel like Christmas is happening all around you but not TO you this year? I sort of feel like there is this festive pandemonium of ‘Secret Santa’s’, embarrassing work function ‘hook up’s’ and everyone selling out of iPads going on all around me and I am having an out of body Xmas experience. So far I’ve bought my Mum a handbag (don’t worry, she stopped reading this blog a LONG time ago), received a Christmas card from my Nan and watched Jamie Oliver’s Christmas Special on telly during a serious case of writers block one evening….this has been as far as my participation of the silly season has gone. What is really confusing me though, is that I actually like Christmas. I’m not a Bah Humbug kinda girl at all! I love the tackiness of it all, and the food and cloyingly sweet mince pies….fuck…I forgot about that…I ate an entire packet of mince pies and washed it down with a bottle of Cab Sav during the afore mentioned writers block ordeal. I think I’m struggling to say yes to my inbox full of Christmas invites and get into the spirit because the other day after 7 parking fines were found in my wallet an actual real life moth flew out. Yes kiddies…Mama Owl is BROKE with a capital FUCK.
This has not stopped me wanting however (do we as humans ever stop wanting?) so if money were no object, and Santa really did come down my chimney and blow his cheery load all over the place I would be on my knees and begging for this …
Yes. These are gold Air Max 90’s you are spying. And do you think I can find them anywhere? No I most definitely can fucking not. Not even on the slippery slope of that fickle little cunt Ebay. I reckon I’m gonna have to give a pair of my white ones to the increddy sneaker tinkerer Alex Nash when I’m back in London next year and see if everything he touches does in fact turn to gold.
Not to be worn with fore mentioned kicks…well maybe…but this Alexander McQueen creation costs a cool 6500 hefty English pounds. And you know what? if I had it, I’d throw money at the dead man because this dress is off the chain! It has been embroidered with actual gold bullion thread and real crystal embellishment. I could quite easily sit with my feet up on the 25 December eating ‘no brand’ mince pie’s and drinking 5 dollar plonk whilst wearing this frock. Ha Ha, there is something so cheeky about calling a near $12000 dress a ‘frock’. Please Uncle Santa buy me this beauty, I’ll let you put your finger in my bum again like you did when I was six.
Yes I know. More gold. But I have had my eye on these ClawMoney 14k gold bamboo babies for quite some time. However the $500 US is not lying side by side in my wallet with the moths. So Ms Claudia, if you are feeling generous, then I would rep these so right! And fellas, instead of trying to get your sleaze on with me in such a pathetic fashion on Facebook chat, rather buy these for me for Christmas. It’s a MUCH better way of getting in my pants.
When they call this a ‘luxury fragrance’ they defs ain’t lying. I frikkin love this stuff. I used to have a bottle years ago and would use it to damn sparingly so it would last. It’s made from the earthy rainy scents of bluebell woods by Penhaligon’s in England. It’s really very special. Anyone love me this much back in the UK? Anybody?
Yes. Yes that is a fake vagina. I’m not sure why the er..’puckered’ other hole is where it is but hey, it gets my point across. I would like someone/Santa to buy me a bunch of sessions for electrolysis. I am so over getting Brazilians. They hurt for one and two, they are well expenno. Shit is starting to add up yo! But my waxer has become my dentist…it’s no longer an option not to go. In fact, it has been known that I have chosen to have my privates made smooth OVER a cavity filling. I know other bitches are feeling me on this. What can I say? Priorities. Innit.
God I miss reading. I never do it anymore. It’s all internet internet internet, blog blog blog, eat eat eat – I never read! I used to hit the written word in book form like a drug. A guilty pleasure of mine was the entire Shopaholic series by Sophie Kinsella. Yes everyone…my name is Tammy and I love cheesy chick lit. I also love mindless television like Gossip Girl. See the thing is, if you spent a day in my mind you would probably leave in a straight jacket sucking your thumb. I need the fluff of all this to give the grinding wheels in my brain a break. It’s kinda like I’m taking my brain for a little spa trip, or out for ice cream. So instead of judging me, put a good word in with the man in red and get him to give me Sophie’s latest release, or the box set of Gossip Girl Series three.
No, it’s not an original crush I am aware of this. Every bitch and her dog who has a twitter account claims to love Diplo. But this is a Christmas wish list and it’s MY blog and I can tell you quite matter of factly that none of you sluts love him as much as I do. Look, I don’t really want to throw around the term ‘love’ but I absolutely would just LOVE to slowly and deliberately take mini Diplo and do bad things to it. Even if he could just wear my knickers, the one’s with owls wearing Xmas hats on it, and serve me up some eggnog then I’d be happy. *sigh* he is just so dreamy, and he talks out the side of his mouth like Drew Barrymore does. So cute. Hey Diplo, will you be my little Christmas miracle? I have an ass you can spin the 1’s and 2’s off. But you might have to wait until someone buys me that electrolysis shit, because as I said before, I’m broke and it’s starting to get a bit real down there. But then again, you’re probs rolling in it so you can hook a girl up. In fact, you could probably hook me up with all this shit.
Yeah I said it. Diplo is Father Christmas.
Happy Holidays Owlies!! xxxo