Tween Me.

I think whoring mysef for a living is wearing me out. If only I could just lie on my back and spread my legs and let them have full access to Hilary, that’d be fine. It’s the trying to rattle up business that drives me crazy. Still, I made over 14k today, which is nice.

Oh yes, Hilary. Today I observed that in this bra, Mary-Kate & Ashley collectively look like Lindsay Lohan boobs (ie: hott but padded), so I figured why not try for a full set – plus, I can go all cockney rhyming slang with Hilary Duff/Muff. Oh the hilarity! And oh the hilary! And if I ever feel political, it can become Clinton, not Duff.

Not that Hilary is going to be doing any campaigning any time soon (or promotional tours, or singles, or what have you). It’s kind of distressing to think that even if people were queuing up to get in, I just don’t know if I want to. I think my confidence has been shattered by the puke incident (I was supposed to be great, and yet all of a sudden I develop a gag reflex? What’s that all about?) but also I’m disgustingly still pining for another boy. Nevermind.

In happier news, there’s a Red Wine Cake baking in the oven, although it sucks that the recipe giver will be leaving the country very shortly. Also, if I counted correctly, there’s only 101 sleeps until I GO TO FIJI. Wahoo! I will be staying here and going on this (and if you see the words “open bar” and presume that’s how Kate and I picked it, well, you’d probably be almost right), if you want to book your tickets now to stalk me. On a stalking note, you know how people talk about how owners get to look like their dogs? Who knew the same happened between husbands and wives (although maybe they’re the same thing), and that a person could go from logging on five times a day during the high drama period a couple of weeks ago, desperate to figure out what was going on, to going cold turkey?

In TOTAL HAPPY NEWS, you know how it was like, no more sleeps today when the good thing was supposed to happen? Well it happened at work. Hoepfully it’ll happen at home too. Soon.

What else do I have to tell you? Probably not very much. My father’s wearing my pearls right now, which is vaguely disturbing. He also hasn’t got the hang of when something’s widescreen and when something’s not, but hey, nevermind. Mum’s trying to figure out Morocco, cos they’re going there soon. Hopefully I will have a flat by then, of course. Katy gets back soon, and then we’ll have the incredibly fun task of flatfinding. She wants Mt Vic. I’m dubious. Nevermind. We’ll see.

Okay, it’s time for me to go and take Marie Antoinette’s advice and eat cake. Wahoo! Oh yeah, and if you’re new, and not a Hubrette yet, and you’ve just come here from Bizgirl (like most of you do), and you’re like “omg, this girl has just told me about the name she’s given her vagina, and I don’t know who she is, and wtf?”, well, get used to it. And do come back. But you know how people write about what they think about? Well I’m like the Korn song, so be warned.(Also, how fucking cool is it that The First Lorelei was renting out her house to Korn? Even though Korn suck.) However, since my image directories are down, y’all can imagine me as being the hottest bitch in the world, and that will be cool. I am, you know. Just maybe like, two or three of the hottest girls stuck together. With a normal amount of arms.

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