Well, Cilla showed another side today. "Happy Fucking New Year," she hollered, drunk out of her mind.
She threw an ash tray, she threw a chair, and then she threw up.
"Good Lord, what's all this then?" I asked.
"An ash tray, a chair, and a pile of puke," she said.
"No no, what's gotten you so crazed? Were you watching Knickerless Pain videos or something?"
"It's that fucking TELL-A-LAUGH," she said. "They pulled a fast one. They found a way to NOT use my pictures! They ran a SELFIE contest!"
I checked the website, and said, "I don't see any such contest, Cil. You imagine things when you drink."
"Maybe the Grimsby editor pulled them down. He's always pulling things down. Especially his pants in public toilets."
I almost thought Cilla had just gotten drunk and imagined it all, but she DID send me photos she said were of the three finalists.
FINISHING THIRD:
Shauna Fiverr.
She's discovered that it's easy to get money on the Internet by talking dirty. She charges 5 pounds the first minute, 1 pound each additional by phone. Texting is twice the price, because she can't spell and has to take time to look things up. Like, whether blowjob is two words or not.
If you're in the Dublin area, she'll double over and let you pound her ass or her twat. She finished out of the money here, because she offered to fuck guys on the staff of the Grimsby Telegraph, unaware that most are either gay or mongoloid.
FINISHING SECOND:
Victoria Street-West
Though no relation to Kim Kardashian-West, Victoria IS just as much of a stupid slut. Arrested for false advertising, when referring to her twat as "Freshney Place," there's nothing fresh about Victoria, except maybe her mouth. She's been known to shock people by saying disgustingly evocative things like, "Fuck and Off," and "Piss and Shit" and "Dec and Ant."
She wrote "SEX" and "SLAVE" on herself, because her boobs weren't big enough for her full name and phone number. Indeed, a Google of "SEX" and "SLAVE" will often turn up her full name and phone number.
THE WINNER:
Cleo Thorpes
According to Cilla, "The contest was RIGGED. I recognize those tits! This is a bitch on the Telegraph staff. That's a fake name. What a corrupt rotten newspaper. That's an old selfie, too. She sent that to her mother when she joined the Telelgraph staff, which is so full of mindless low-class whores.
"They put in the fix, and had HER declared the winner! Blast their eyes! She has a shaved twat, and the winner gets a twat toupee made out of the beard that the mortician shaved off of David Gest's face before he was buried! If I won that, I would've made a fortune selling it on eBay! I have to spend all day photographing a wedding to get that kind of money."
By this time, Cilla had sobered enough to apologize for the mess she made. "So sorry, about the broken chair, broken ash tray, and puke all over the floor. And even sorrier that YOU have to clean it up. But I've got a wedding to photograph, so, byeeeeeeee!"
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