Hi Tattlers
So, I'll keep it real, Glóby sales have plummeted. Only by 0.00001 per cent though. I sent a little email to BoJo and suggested he tan-blocks all holidays aboard to increase my sunless tan independent tool kit revenue. He only agreed with Spain to start off with. I was livid, but I then realised the silver lining is that Elle Belle doesn't get to go to Ibiza now. There's a fine line between respectful discussion and speaking out the truth trolling. I might send Bozza another quick email about introducing Lydia's Law, whereby followers have to send me ass-lick comments. Because of all this trauma I've had to up my self-care. I now online shop every 3 minutes and fake tan every 7. So I'll need compensation for that too.
Have you heard Cawwee is moving closer to me? She'll be on the border of Buckinghamshire too. Between you and I, I do feel slightly bad that she's had to put her house on the market and can only afford a tent, now I've had to split her salary with my #2 Dee. I know I didn't really need two personal assholes, but with all these headaches and now having PMDD to top it off, I can only work for 23 minutes per day, maximum. I've obviously now nailed my team. Cawwee on Begging and Dee the Depoper. We just love going on team hikes. I know I said I went to the Lake District, I meant the Peak District. I'm such a silly moo moo. I obviously have lakes on the brain. Cawwee's on the beg for a tigger to dig my own lake in my own grounds. She needs to redeem herself after operation greenhouse failed. Miserably. I've removed her annual bonus however. Girl needs to learn. She no longer has the honour of, once a year, getting to chose one of my most coveted closet pieces. Not to use obviously. Not even to touch. But you know maybe take a selfie with it. From afar.
I see Claire Chanelle has had a baby boy. Gawd knows why she picked that awful name. She can't even speak French. I can. Je m'appelle Lydiot. I'm such a cultured moo. And as for Frow fraternising with the enemy, well let me tell you Sticky Vicky, I couldn't help but notice awesome ends with me and ugly starts with u. Anyway, Grossy Josie is now my BFF. Well at least until she stabs me in the back with Japanese Damascus knifes #ad. Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery did you know? I was also aware it was the creepiest form. So I hustled and pretended to be her friend. I take her pathetic attempts to replicate everything I do as a compliment, because if I were her I would want to be me too. I got the country house and ordered the Fendi bag first, Josie. Speaking of Fendi, I'm just waiting for granny to pop her clogs, then I can get my grubby mitts (Glóby, my own brand) on her vintage collection. I'll also get Dee to depop her thermomix, as new, then I can make even more moolah.
My husband, has got himself a new hobby. I do love buzzy buzzy bumble bees too, but imagine having to die every time you stung someone though. Now that I can relate too. Anyway, we're obviously so relevant now. I bet we get a personal invite from David and Victoria to Beckingham Palace by the peak of high summer. Josie may be dropped sooner than she knows it. To be honest though, I'm a bit worried about the competition, not from Posh, she's what you would call faux posh, rags from riches, unlike me. My dad has a Rolex and Royles Royce did you know? I mean from the queen bee in the hive, there's only room for one lady of the manor. Anyway, it got me thinking, it was a long and slow journey this one thought, I'm still recovering from brain damage you see. But I've determined that I'm clearly not keeping Cinderali busy enough if he has time for a hobby. Can you believe he had the audacity to complain about bringing the outside cushions in during a rain storm? All the moaning and groaning did bring back flashbacks of that time I caught George and him in the closet. Anyway, I'm hatching a plan to sabotage his beehive. I'm going to get Cawwee to dress up as the Honey Monster to jump scare the bees. That'll stop the little shitters from producing any honey. Ali's hayfever is here to stay hee-hee-hee. Anyway, I've got to go, the door bell just went, it'll be my 87th farmers hamper. I do hope they've seen Ali's latest vlog, and swapped out all the heritage tomatoes for sausage rolls. If not, it won't just be the tomatoes that I'll be roasting on my social media.
Love Lydia (P.S. just to clarify when I said it was my last haul of the summer, I meant that summer's day, slip of the tongue, I'm such a silly moo moo).
one does love one's self doesn't one Millen.
