American Manhore stay away from me

 

You know that horrible metallic taste that you get after you’ve been sick. I have that now. I’m sitting in a coffee house in Beverley hills. I haven’t been sick

I knew I was walking into the lion’s den in terms of beautiful skinny people everywhere. But. But. My worse fear  came true.

With the words from the Hollywood manhore who i have come to see

‘ have you ever been skinnier? ‘

and

‘what does your face look like’

I said ‘better’

I shouldn’t have. But its true.

I hate that I said that . and hate that its true. And I now hate him.

He was flicking through photos on his I phone of English actress’s that have made it in America. As he was saying he may be able to help me get an agent out here. I gave him some names

‘kate winslet’

his reaction

‘ your way hotter than her’

I replied.

‘well she’s a really good actress… its more about that where I’m from’

next was ‘ carey mulligan’

his reaction

‘ your cuter than her’

I said well she is also v good. And looks really young

Next was ‘ keria knightly’

The disturbing thing apart from the fact he then went on to flick through many many photos of keria knightly looking skinny and beautiful…. And staying… ‘wow shes hot, she’s beautiful ect’ was that he didn’t know who any of these actors are! Has he been in a victoria secrets bubble for the past 15 years?

I think so.

The metallic taste is back

Then came the skinny comments and I wanted to  throw myself on his carpet (that you are not allowed shoes on) and cry and tell him to go fuck himself all at the same time. Instead i pushed it down into my chubby gut. and said my friend was outside and left. She wasn’t .

i waited outside his apartment for 25 mins.

she picked me up and we went for coffee. I couldn’t hear allot of what she was staying as Id glazed over.

The convo eventually went to the Hollywood man I was staying with and she gave him a very bad review. I knew he was a player. But I didn’t know he was a ‘I heart models’ player.

Fucking yuk.

I don’t hate models. I used to be one at 15 years old. But I hate men that only date models. It turns my stomach.

Feeling fat at a size 10 is something I experience in London every day. so you can imagine.

I came back from coffee and told him I was making other plans and leaving the next day.

He was pissed off. Or as they say here ‘pissed’

I wish I was pissed. I want to get so pissed that I can’t walk. Or feel. I wanna get pissed with the fraggle in east London in baggy 80’s trousers and scruffy unwashed hair.  I wanna laugh and not give a fuck about the size of my thighs.

Hollywood manhore went on to say ‘he has treated me like an absolute gentleman with the upper most respect for me’ That was unfortunately true up until that day. He had taught me how to play golf, bought me a sweater to play in as there was a strict dress code. Taken me to a barbeque in a house that could have been Madonna’s. And sushi dinner with the guy who made Angelina jolies engagement ring.

At breakfast he had been texting and setting up dinners pretty intensely with friends who are producers and an agent that he knows. I told him i appreciated what he had done but I hadn’t come out here to do that. Just to see him and see how we got on. After we had had 2 months of us texting Dailey and many viber calls. I wanted to know whether there was any major potential with this Hollywood man of 52. Plus the idea of being a stepford type wife appealed to me and also repulsed me all at the same time.

Does anyone else get that??!

Within the argument were some rather disturbing moments that I can not let go right now …. These are some of the things he said

Re skinny comment;

‘ well I was just saying how committed to your career ARE you?!!!’

within the heated bit of the row;

‘ if you were a guy I would smack you across the room right now’

also later on

‘move over bubble butt’

I went out with my friend Ralph that evening. He is an actor i know that just happened to be in LA.

I didn’t go with manhore to his friends birthday as planned.

We both arrived back at the door of his apartment at the same time. We laughed about the fact he had garlic breath and had eaten his own body wait in that, pasta and oily salad. He said he has body issues too. I replied from the other room

‘ Clearly! ‘

I fell asleep whilst he was in the shower. Woke up this morning at 7am and he was in the spare room.

I ate some almonds for breakfast and felt guilty.

He said he had been in the spare room cos he was coughing and didn’t want to wake me.

I couldn’t go back to sleep so left his apartment with my laptop, the baggyist summer trousers I could find in my case and took my fat bubble ass to coffee.

I kissed him goodbye.

Without feeling

Actress feeling… which is tricky to describe.

Basically you pretend really well and u even convince yourself. But deep down u know its just a show darling…. All a fucking show!

I still have that metallic taste in my mouth.

welcome to HOLLYWOOD kiddo

I want to eat chips  with loads of ketchup and mayo in front of a fire with someone I love.

And who loves me even if I’m fat

Don’t we all want that?

Isn’t that the problem?

If it happens. It everytually will end.

In my experience everything ENDS.

I want something to last forever

Don’t we all?

Isn’t that the point of ‘Dating’?!

Thoughts people ….. thoughts?

Diamond DICK head

Does a place called ‘Malmuk’ even exist!?

Apparently date number 4 (the fat Arab on whats your price.com) was from there.

He showed up an hour late and sat down opposite me whilst I was on my laptop and said in a very weird foreign accent

‘ Always vorking darlink’

then…

‘ vench or Italian!?’

I said vench. Which I thought meant French.… fish… low fat…. Yes. Good.

He then took me to café rough! A so called diamond mercent. Cafe rough!??!!

Then I should have known.

then I should have left.

Instead I was so hungry and angry I just smiled and asked him about his job , where he lived ect. Anything to make the following expected 3 hours pass quicker.

I ordered the salmon salad. With pink champagne (apparently that’s one of the lowest fat drinks you can get. Apparently) I’m fucking obsessed. I know.

He was v rude to the young polish boy waiter looking man . I smiled at the him as I ordered in a…. I know he is cunt, but I’ll get you a good tip kinda way

The next hour was spent with him showing me photo upon photo of diamonds, money and gold.

Seriously.

In between texting. I didn’t mind. It meant I could break eye contact and look at my phone to see if anybody had texted me. Anybody . any fraggle. Any old fraggle.

He then kissed my hand.

He then got up and said he needed to make a call to ‘ Some Chinese stupid client’

He but £60 on top of my bag.  He said he would be right back. And left.

I knew i would never see him again.

I finished my salad, his salad, my drink. Then his drink.

And Waited for 30 mins.

The polish waiter looked on. He lent me his I phone charger for 5 minutes.  I got a text from the diamond dick head saying

‘ I go to get more cash to offer you overnight to get to know each other better ; ) ‘

I payed the bill quickly. It came to £40.

I gave the polish boy £10.

I kept the extra £10.

And left.

I put the £10 on my oyster card at Knightsbridge tube station.

I was back to square one.

ZERO.

I listened too ‘work ( explicit edit) Iggy Azalea on my I pod on the tube.

Listen to it now if you can.

CUT TOO; 8.30pm Hoxton square.

I drank a few drinks with the fraggle and deano and another friend who seemed like the kind of man you could tell everything too. He had kind eyes and a beard.

It was weird with the fraggle. Weird as in maybe its all in my head and there is nothing there between us. It was disappointing.  I strutted about in my red lipstick and was all ‘yeah look at me i’m kool’ and he was very fraggle like and reserved and scarcastic. i held his eye contact a little longer to see what happened. I got mild butterflies.

Mild.

I wanted to put him in an intense stare off and slowly push his fraggle hair from his face. And kiss him slowly on his feminine lips. Leaving a (‘lady danger’ from mac) lipstick print on the side of his delicate gay mouth.

Instead I went home on the number 214 bus. I wanted to eat 5 McDonald happy meals on that bus home. But instead felt my feelings. and texted my beautiful friend ‘ diamond’ (that may or may not be a fake name)

If I was mega rich I would give lots of it to ‘ diamond’ I feel as though she is the younger sister I never had. Even though I have already got a younger sister. She is in allot of pain with an addiction. I know this addiction well. I want to help her.

But I cant.

It all costs money.

Money I don’t have.

One day this will all make sense.

One day I will be able to pay my rent.

One day I will be successful.

One day Simon Pegg and Steve coogan will have a bitch fight over who wants to work with me most.

One day diamond will get better.

One day this will all make sense.

One day.

Lights down. And que track

‘ goo goo dolls IRSH’