Travel Diary

The last leg of the "RBIE in the U.K.!" tour is fast approaching...and as much as i've enjoyed it, I can't deny the fact that my hands are cramped from all the autographs I've had to sign, my bodyguards are exhausted from having to continuously shield me from unruly fans, and even my mind is starting to stray...

In my freetime (ambitious journalist that I am) I've been participating in an intense International Human Rights Seminar...finally lawyers that don't make me want to cut myself (as much) for being associated with them. I've learned a lot and hope to put all my new knowledge to good use when I get back. For example, I can now confidently threaten my illegal Aunt with deportation because God knows she doesn't qualify for refugee status.

One thing is for certain: I will be a poor lawyer. Unless (!) one of our faithful readers can find me a sexy, rich widower* who has a thing for eye-twitching and a (newly acquired) fake British/Madonna accent, in which case I will be spared a life of poverty, as will my four illegitimate children (I'm stopping at four, because Jesus, I'm not a whore!).

My itinerary for the next week is jam packed so I apologize again to all the kids whose emails I've yet to respond to, as well as to the single fellows impatiently awaiting my autographed glamour shots (stamps in the U.K. aren't cheap, you know).

For the rest of you planning my welcome back party on the 31st, you might want to find a large freezer to store the life-size ice sculptures because plans have changed and RBIE Fan-Club Sweden has requested my appearance.

I know. You feel betrayed right? Well, as long as I have you here, I might as well tell you: Santa Claus IS real...but he's also a pedophile who occasionally enjoys wearing women's underwear...you can see the dilemma most parents face. I say most parents, because mine warned me about his pedophilic tendencies when I was a little child...kept me from leaving my bed at night to check on the milk and cookies--but that's another story for another time (namely, Christmas-time, when my parents make me babysit all the bratty kids at their annual holiday party.)

For now, all i can say is Jag är densexigaste kvinnan som du kommer att någonsin traffa.
(That's Swedish for bye.)

*sometimes, i wonder.