Wednesday, November 10, 2004

Oooh... I'm getting highly annoyed at all these young pop diva wannabes singing about how tiresome and un-private their lives are. I think that if they wanna live bloody private lives they should try and make an effort at least. Not wear what they wear and do what they do and expect people to ignore them. I'm quite sure that if a nobody had that much of money and did everything they did, they'd become famous too. I'm not being bitter here.

Ok, maybe I am.

I want black boots. The knee high kind. I want to get a whole bunch of short skirts. Not the indecent kind of short but yeah... In denim, corduroy, and chinese silk. I want a jersey dress, off the shoulder is preferable. I want to get pointy toed stilettos and I want black pedal-pushers to go with them. I want a nice dark brown bag to go with my new shoes. I want a new bikini, maybe 2, in white and black. I want THAT dress from Chaos, for goodness knows what, but I still want it. I want girl boxers and the new Triumph Brazilian. I want that black Ferragamo wallet I saw the other day. I want that poncho thingy from Topshop and I want a black tube to wear under it. I want new butt-tight jeans. I want to get long bead necklaces to loop around my neck a few times, in various colours. I want a Samsung E600C. I want a black pashmina shawl with diamantes. I want to get my hair done. I want a french manicure and pedicure. I want a top in fire engine red. I want another one in green, in a sort of babydoll cut, with a satin ribbon. I want a black leather belt. I want pink lip gloss from MAC. And Studiofix NC43. I want Issey Miyake perfume. And Pleasures by Estee Lauder. I want to streak my hair with caramel brown. I want a nice Mocha Frappe. I want a platinum ring with a canary diamond.

I want all these things (these are only the things I can remember off the top of my head. There's tonnes more where that came from, believe me...) and I don't have the money to get them. And those nincompoops have the cheek to complain about being famous and having oodles of cash. And even more cheek to sing about it on a bad song in disgustingly skimpy clothes with ugly boys and then make more money and become more famous so they can complain even more and act all woe-is-me about not having any privacy. Pah! Yes, that's exactly what I said! PAH!


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