Watching Angel winding herself lasciviously around Halfwit in her creative interpretation of a ‘birthday dance’ was so profoundly filthy and delicious that it had every housemate goggled-eyed. I’m sure sex with her would be extraordinary. I’m not sure you’d survive the experience, and I can’t help but wonder if it would be worth it even so.
There is something unearthly and fragile about Angel, and I’ve come to rather adore her. She’s so much smarter and more interesting than everyone in the house, it’s as if she’s from another planet rather than continent. I fear she’ll not last long, and not just because of the hunger strike. I see beautiful madness in her, with moments of fleeting and unexpected joy that remind me of glimpsing a kingfisher, especially the graceful unabashed skinny dip. The absolute antithesis of the usual plastic tit and peroxide extension waving we’re used to by the pool. I love the way she made, for an unfeasibly long time, the really annoying mouth-comb noise my brother used to make playing war games whilst the blocked sink water slowly drained. Sree begged her to stop and she ignored him with aplomb: “I’m helping the water go down.” I loved her solo birthday party in the diary room with Russian dolls. Hearing her speak her native language was quite delicious. And when she said in the Diary Room recently that one day she “might paint the Big Brother house with my blood” you knew that housemates could wake to find exactly that.
[posted by Inkface]
(photo from Angel’s website)