Marlboro On: The down low & the little white dress

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The story between me and the hot neighbour is one that has been told many times since the dawn of time, because of that reason I will give you the edited version of my own rendition aptly named

the story of the hottie and the chain-smoking vixen

Once upon a time there lived, in North London a beautiful chain- smoking vixen and a hottie. They did not know it yet, but they would meet walking down Havistock Hill one spring evening, they would hit it off, so well in fact that they would decide that wine was for losers and therefore instead go straight back to his for coffee ...

the tale then takes a twist some where in the middle

After weeks of answering the hotties call's at 3am in the morning to come round for some (very average) 'coffee', the BC-S Vixen thought they were actually on the same page (even though the BC-S Vixen was a triple-mochcaccino-dynamite-way-more-'experienced' type of coffee. While the hottie was the weak cold left-out-on-the-side-coffee...in a VERY pretty mug) so she obliged the the hottie when he asked her out for drinks at a reasonable hour.

Little did she know the hottie actually spent his days taking a very different type of coffee - the kind of coffee one takes through the nose - so when she arrived at the pub the hottie had told her to come to meet him in, he was babbling on about..

Elephants. Kenya. Whiskey Mist and Camden takeaway.

In that order and all within the first five minutes of her sitting down

The vixen was confused but tried not to think too much of the crazy talk and more of the pretty mug, that constantly called her gorgeous. And that this mug came as part of a twin set.

and so the inevitable ending comes...

But the crazy just got worst until one night, the Hottie in his caffiene fulled delirium was rude and dismissive to the BC-S Vixen in front of her friends.

The Vixen thought about it for a second and realised, she was no longer 18 and naive but 25, attractive, skinny and successful. In fact TOO attractive, skinny and successful to chase after a 'hottie' who was more interested in his special coffee than her experienced 'triple mochcaccino dynamite' kind and thus, told said 'hottie' to c*nt off.

Literally

Just. C*nt. Off.

Dating in london town is seriously no fairytale. In fact fairytale dating is not even a fairy tale.
I bet if you googled Snowwhite, you'd see shae has now has gained about 40 stone and looks like a parachute in flight/ float ... whatever.

She is fat is the point I'm getting at. Fat and manless. And who can blame her? I mean I'm skinny and even I can't get no love.



Anyway...

After my week of low lowness, beer swilling and holding 'fat spinster parties*' with Princess I decided to get my arse in gear, get my hair cut, my highlights done and get my body back into bodycon.

H&M made my dream a reality.

Sexual.




White bodycon dress: H&M £29.99

Marlboro Martini's Hotness in this number: Priceless

*fat parties usualy consist of beer, cake, burgers and chicken nuggets - no particular soundtrack necessary - however the occasional 'blah to the world' warcry absolutely necessary

** if you want to know what the other half of the twinset looks like click here