04 July, 2011

Diary of a Slut- Day One.

I genuinely don't know why I'm starting this diary- to get stuff off my chest, I think...an how! I have a boyfriend who doesn't appreciate me, a spasmodic lover who really is having his sexual cake an eating it, as well as the usual assortment of admirers. I suppose it doesn't really help my case, being all 5'9'', redheaded, doe-eyed beauty as I am. Because, come on! You have to be honest about these things. No point lying so obviously- just makes people hate you even more.

So, hi. I'm Lisa Bruno. Well, Lisa Marie Antoinette Jisella Bruno to be totally honest- laugh, and I'll deck you. I go to Osbourne School for Ladies in Mid-West Blighty, and I can't really be bothered anymore. Fifteen, sensational and something of a wallflower until I actually grew a decent rack last year. After that? Well, you tend to get noticed rather often- and I can't exactly strap 'em down, can I? Whizz at French, average at German and Latin (Christ knows why I took them up really- Mrs. Medusa hates my guts since my Italian hot-bloodedness took over in the spring and I flipped a desk. Okay, so her name's not really Mrs. Medusa, it's Mrs. Mendosa, but with that offensive '50's perm, she can go suck it). Yeah, English, Maths and Science are all down but Biology can bite me. Hard.

Hate sport but good at it- first and foremost, I'm a sprinter. I hate running but go anyway. Surfing, I used to do all the time when we lived in Devon (till Frank screwed that up big-time), but the whole surfing scene just got on my nerves! I mean, you're chilling on the front bay, chatting to your friends when some greasy-haired pillock of about thirty-five and all his douchebag mates come over and start hitting on you when they notice your surfboard in the sand. It's like, no, I'm twelve, you perv. Hush.

But apart from that, life's pretty sweet, yeah- all the lads from St. Edward's up the street seem to have no problem with me...or my legs, come to that. Specially not now that summer's coming up. I go to the outdoor pool of a weekend, nothing special, you know? Just sat there casually in my one-piece when some idiot I spot in the corner of the pool is staring bug-eyed with all his mates. And they think I don't notice...yeah, well there's a reason these Ray-Bans are reflective, douches.

2 comments:

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  2. "a spasmodic lover who is really having his sexual cake and eating it."
    I LOVE your writing.
    If I'm totally honest, though, if I met this chick in real life, I'd probably have to slap her.

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