The Calabasas sun massages my back like it's shining just to love on me as my guests co-mingle in my gorgeous estate.
These adult thoughts are driving me crazy. I turn over and open my legs in the lawn chair to let the sunshine hit me right there. I didn't care about the paparazzi, staff, or any other guests who happen to wander in.
I live a lot like the Kardashians. Phil and the delivery guy have only seen a grain of salt worth of my daily life. I understand the Kardashians. They don't live alone- they live with people who can and will tell them when they can and can't get naked. I love being naked. My guests keep looking over at me in amusement and shock.
I don't buy that you really get peace from clothes if you're a nudist who lives alone. My dream is to be fit and look good naked. I'm still working on that right now. I look cute in my curvy-swim suit.
The boys I grew up with don't forgive me for what a nerdy girl I was in school. Even though I got hot, they still can't get that old image out of their heads. But one of them keeps looking over at me. He won't speak to me, but he shows up at my parties with his other half, and I've been dying for them both to make a proposal to me.
I was concerned last month that I might've hula hooped so hard in my Hoopologie-inspired workout that I injured my womanhood. I can't stop hula hooping though. I love that Melinda Rider wants Hoopologie to flow in the hoop while thinking about how to "Flow" in the "Arts."
I'm happy to say that resolved. Still gotta be careful with the hoop, and I don't really think the weighted hoop I purchased from a different company was a great idea. Stomach muscles are shady. As awesome as class is, those muscles in your stomach run deep. I'll find some use for the weighted hoop.
I close my legs and get up from the lawn chair. Phil is here. I put my ultra-conservative coverup back on.
"Hey Silent. Nice to see you laying here."
"My back is hurting from too many couches. I think I need a harder chair. I have to do a lot of sitting and chilling out and working to help us stay afloat here. I want a real office chair instead of all the beds and soft couches."
"Oh that's understandable. I have some pictures of the condo if you'd still like to see it."
"Sure, let's see it."
Phil shows me a gorgeous window overlooking the ocean.
"Waterfront! That is gorgeous Phil. Congratulations!"
"You should come over sometime."
I smirk at him and say, "Have fun, Phil. Lots of beautiful women here. I'll see you! I have to go do some stuff and then I'll be back."
"Okay" he immediately goes over to the hot tub. "Silent!"
"Hide and seek."
"Noted" I smile. When guests feel like tipping me instead of other sexy female guests, I have two sort of games that I make them partake in.
As the queen bee of my party, my guests know that they should leave tips as much as they can because I distribute them evenly between three names I pull from a hat.
If they really want the tip to be for me to help pay for my party supplies and whatnot, they have to say in their sexiest voice ever, "Hide and seek." That means I have to start seeking throughout the party. If I can't find their tip with their name on it by the end of the party, I can keep it, but bad hiding skills send it to the distribution jar.
Another option is to lay me down on the bed, crawl up to me and try to get the tip inside of my bra or fishnets only using their teeth. If they accidentally bite, they get thrown out of the party. It's sad but they always come back.