Diary of a Glitter Splashed Britney Lovin' Lesbo

I am a 25 year old butcheyfemme queer with rubbish on my mind and sparkles everywhere else

Name:Miss Fee


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The Outsider - A Camus

Choke - C Palahnuik


Monday, February 25

Sunday 24rd February

Cast List

Lil Ol' Me
Babs the poof

Today was spent trawling (not in that sense you people) Camden for leather goods. By that I mean that Babs was after some slim fitting Viv Windsor getup while I was aiming for the slightly more stylish blazer kinda thang. Neither of our searches proved joyous but Babs thought he was close to god in some skin tight beige number… and this from a fashion designing guru poof?? I did find numerous belts, most of which were sparkley, along with soggy hair (my own) due to London snow in Febraury. Nuff said.

We decided that our blistering hangovers would not deter us from shakin our booties in London on a Saturday night and set of to "pop idol" ourselves sporting fitted shirts and jeans. Dear Babs picked up a stunning shirt, dripping expense from the £10 Bargain Rail at Selfridges thinkin he had done the world proud by finding such a steal, only to cast it in front of the ‘up her own arse’ shop assistant who rang up a sale of £89.99. Agast, Babs explained there had clearly been a mistake as it was only £10 to which the shop assistant replied ‘the only mistake is you’ or something. Putting his broadest Scots accent on Babs muttered something intelligible to only a trained ear and stormed off. I guess you had to be there but the dramatics were good, believe me.

And so we made ourselves beautiful and agreed on one lesbo bar for me, one poof bar for him. And off we went, red alcohol faced to The Vespa Lounge. The bouncer gave me a smile on the way in but I am guessing this was not a smile reserved for little Miss Me. I was kinda scared but am not sure why… My first exclusive lesbo bar in my 7 years out as a queer… This was quite a milestone. The bar itself was kinda dingy, but just in an underlit way. This was good as my crows feet do have a tendency to sneak out under flourescent lighting. As I imagined, there was a pool table. I had hope there would not be, just to dispel with some stereotyping. But then I guess the stereotyping was in the lesbians and the least said about some of them the better. I was not, however, on the pull so did not find my eye wandering toward anyone in particular, I was simply there for the experience and the view (not necessarily a good one). It was odd how in most of the lesbians I recognised some one from my very own scene back home. And I wondered if there are some standard lesbians that are fixtures in every lesbo bar. I mean there was the ageing blonde with the perfect bob who was probably the ‘stud’ in her day. There was the ageing blonde’s cling ons who’d probably been after her for years and of course there were the druggy lesbians who would dance badly had there been a dance floor (or was there and I missed it?). I guess if I had looked hard enough I would have even found a me. We stayed for only one drink which was long enuff for Babs to spot someone he thought was cute, shame the object of his affection turned out to be a lesbian. It was a simple mistake. Oh there was this one girl who looked like a 16 year old boy. She was petite, with bleached short hair, mans trousers and belt and a striped shirt tucked in. She had a pretty face and the way she stared at me was unbelievable. I thought she was gonna offer me a cigar and to take me dancin’ or something. I can honestly say I have never known anyone to make eye contact for as long as she did. I felt like the proverbial fish in a bowl. And she did all this blatant staring as she walked behind her girlfiend to leave the bar. She was a cocky wee shit but I guess my ego was flattered sufficiently. But Butches really are not my thing.

The reason I appreciated this lesbian bar, not for the lesbians that were in it, although I am sure they are delightful people but because for once no one thought I was a fag hag. Clearly, the fact I was in that bar made me a real lesbian, there was no disputing that fact and I enjoyed that. For once people were actually lookin at me to say "she’s ok" instead of "check her wanting to shag her best poof mate". I am going again tomorrow.