My Guilty Pleasures

Guilty Pleasures I Have Felt Not One Ounce Of Guilt About Taking Pleasure In.

In no particular order.

Eating a cookie while I make dinner.
Correcting someone when they say would of, could of or should of instead of would have, could have or should have.
Passing an exam with flying colours despite not studying for it and having spent every class thinking about the musical episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
Digging for compliments.
Outwitting drunk people.
Pretending my bloated belly is a baby and naming her Leonie or him Spike. In my mind.
Playing alarming amounts of Bejewelled Blitz when I should be doing something productive and blaming the parent who beat my score for my non-productivity.
Waking my Mother when she falls asleep during a film and telling her it's been three hours when it's been three minutes.
Watching Inglorious Bastards and double checking - again - that the guy with the baseball bat isn't the cute kid with a guitar from School of Rock.
Singing a song until Connie tells me to stop showing off.
"Fuck you very much" "What was that?" "Wank you very much" "Sorry?" "THANK YOU VERY MUCH!
Pouring more wine in my glass than theirs.
Staring at handsome men through sunglasses yet swearing at men who beep at me from white vans and make me jump like I've been electrocuted by the pavement.


Genuine pleasures. Genuine non-guilty feeling.

My actual guilty pleasures.
In no particular order.
You'll never know.

Perve.