A Mad Hatters Tea Party: It's Not Like Me.

ALICE:

The sweet poppet who felt confined in this world of politics, arranged marriages and lady like behaviour decided to follow a little white rabbit with a waist coat and accidentally fell down a hole! Well, what people don’t know about Alice is that she is a horny little fuck! And falling into that hole has done nothing but set her free in the land of dreams, where she can gallivant around butt-naked, tits out and hormones racing! Now, in this Wonderland of vodka flowing rivers that glisten like disco balls and topsy-turvey flowers that enchant you with their smiles, this blonde bomb shell is out to play, and play she will! Although she has the tendency to be horribly vulgar and quite sultry at the same time- she’s a load of fun and will probably get your blood pumping, in all the right places!

THE QUEEN OF HEARTS:

The Queen of Hearts is a bitch. Her title most ironic. The Queen has anything but a heart (nor a brain for that matter). In its place lies a chamber full of hate and anger, pumping rage through her every being, her body feeding off other peoples misery and misfortunes. The Queen of Hearts, unable to see others pain through her own vanity, has no remorse or guilt. She is brutally honest and delivers it as it is. No matter how grotesque or unwanted the news might be. Through all of this, however, the Queen has an attractiveness about her. Like a spell it draws you in. Even with her arrogance, vulgarity, and plain right rudeness, one cannot help but to like her. Slowly you get sucked in and before you know it you too are one of her cards, her minions, laughing at her insults and joining in the name-game. Her hilarious outlook on life and inability to hold back on anything draws you to the dark side in one swift swing of the club

Sunday, March 14

It's Not Like Me.

It’s not like me to hold back. I will let rip if the need be. Sometimes I will hold back on my friends, but generally not... Just last night I punched The Queen because the whore didn’t wait for me and so, being ridiculously drunk, I got ridiculously lost. On finding her; I smiled, walked towards her, and punched her square in the tits. Knocking her drink over on impact. She was unimpressed, but not shocked. This kind of behaviour is expected from little Alice, and so without saying a word she went to the bathroom to clean her now soaked dress.

The irony here is that it was not her that I wanted to punch but the slut that was dancing next to me. Bumping into me, grinding me, and just generally acting like a fuckface she had really spurred my anger and fired me up. When I’m drunk I really am a feisty ‘lil tiger. And no you perve, I’m not talking about in the bedroom. I mean literally I am like a psychotic freshly released from Falkenberg. With a single word you can wind me up so much that Satan literally sits behind my eyes. Luckily I moved off the brandy last year, although come to think of it, I haven’t actually noticed much difference in my behaviour...

The best part is, everyone in Stellies gets so mother drunk when they go out that they forget that you threw your bacon at them, or that you tried to stab them with your fork, or that you broke all of their cigarettes in half... It’s beautiful really. Who needs a stress ball when u can act like a raving lunatic and no one knows any better the next day? Lovely.

Alice xxx