Cross Stitch Bitch
I am the worldwide phenomenon that is Cross Stitch Bitch.
I’m a hot, young, nubile sex bomb who partakes in the genteel, delicate form of artwork that is ‘Cross Stitch’.
Cross Stitch Bitch is my really naughty alter ego; she likes alcohol, partying and inappropriate men, all in copious amounts.
I prefer to remain anonymous as I feel it gives me an enigmatic air of mystery, plus I can be as rude and filthy as I want to be, which is totally NOT what I’m like in real life. I’m very quiet & reserved, shy almost.
And I’ll have you in stitches...
The Secret Diary of the Cross Stitch Bitch Aged*
*Mind your own fucking business!!!
HAPPPPYYY BIRTHDDAYYYYY emmaheaven.com!
One whole year old! I’ve been racking my brain trying to think of something special, vulgar, and totally inappropriate to put in this month’s column to celebrate the magazine’s birthday. And I’ve come up with a cracker; and as I’m writing this now I can envisage Emma reading these words with a mixture of fear, dread and revulsion creeping over her - and so she should. Because just when she thinks I can’t get any worse. I can.
My birthday treat to you all is to reveal the top three most embarrassing moments of my life. They are awkward, and awful, and gross and it is only because I am veiled in a thick cloak of anonymity that I am willing to divulge these awful (totally true) things that have happened to me. But I’ll save the best for last.
So, this month I would like to introduce ‘stitch of the month’ where I will show - as the name would suggest -my favourite stitch of the month. This month I have two – but for totally different reasons.
Tounge punch me in the fart box
Now, it’s not often I am overly amused at something I’m asked to stitch - but with this one I pissed myself at the request and then I pissed myself again at the finished article. What a delightfully disgusting turn of phrase... and I love it. But I won’t be asking anyone to do it to me, and I certainly hope no-one ever asks me to do it to them.
The Evans Family
Nothing filthy about this one (it’s a Cross Stitch Not A Bitch special – remember her from last month - the boring twat?) I am purely including this one because it took over a fucking WEEK to complete and it was a pure pain in the ass... but I am secretly quite proud of it because it is... dare I say it... quite cute.
Ok, so here it is, the bit you’ve all been waiting for. My top three!
In at #3. I was once a regular user of the local launderette. I stopped being a user of the local launderette when I discovered at the end of a particularly long and arduous day at work that I had spent the whole day wearing what had initially looked like my thong but in fact was someone else’s thong which I had inadvertently picked up when someone had left it behind in the tumble dryer *shudders*. To this day I can only pray that the person whose knickers I had had wedged up my ass all day wasn’t a minger *prays*.
In at #2. I had gone out on a date with a potential love interest. I didn’t really feel up to it on the night as I had a particularly virulent chesty cough - but I ignored my ailment and went along anyway, thinking “he could be ‘the one’”. Anyway, all was going well until midway through drinks I started to cough, and cough, and cough. And you know when you start coughing and it’s one of those coughs where you can hear all of the phlegm rattling in your chest? And you know when you can’t stop coughing and you inadvertently hock up a greenie? And you know when that greenie lands on your hand where you are holding it to cover your mouth??? *gross*. But it gets worse, because by now my date is staring at me thinking he needs to get the paramedics in so he can get the fuck out and I’m still sitting there with a greenie on my hand (which, by the way, is still connected to my mouth because - just my luck - I hadn’t hocked it ALL up) and I’m looking around furiously for a tissue or a menu or ANYTHING to wipe away this shame.
But there was nothing. So I carefully moved my hand back towards my mouth... and I did what I had to do. I ate my own greenie. (No carbs in that though hey Tara??)
And in at the top spot numero uno!
Another corker from my long and chequered love life (yes, there are many) but this one tops the charts.
T’was a beautiful summer evening and I was strolling along the beach with the love of my life. All the ingredients were there for a cheeky rub in the dunes, but alas, this was not to be as the painters were in and I unfortunately had my period. Anyway I didn’t let it ruin the evening and instead got stuck into some heavy petting on the sand. Exciting stuff. A little too exciting for me though as it transpired because I became so aroused that my tampon literally slid out of me and onto the sand where I had been sitting (I had stopped wearing underwear after the thong incident).
Until next time bitches... if I’m allowed back after this...
Lots of love
Tags: Cross Stitch Bitch