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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Currently Reading:

The Outsider - A Camus

Choke - C Palahnuik


Thursday, March 14

I am striving to find something if not joyous then at least interesting to write about. That’s all 3 things I did yesterday out of the running then. Although, I will tell you that I did watch Matilda in an attempt to make all things good and cheery. Kids films rule, there are no sordid affairs, swearing is kept to ‘oh you cow’ and they always have a happy ending and make you wish you were 12 again. Well any age below 12 and above 15 is good for me. My years between 12 and 15 were hell. I heffered around in coulottes (a cross between long baggy shorts and a skirt) and wore slouch socks (4 rolls per ankle). I was constantly the figure of ridicule and the word FAT featured prominently in conversations that were about me. I was a mockery on the hockey pitch where I could not run the warm up without having a seat half way through and jeers of ‘look at the fat girl playing hockey’ were rife. And in comfort I’d slunk off home with only my massive fringe in tow to scoff chocolate spread by the jar and guzzle POPTARTS by the box. Frozen ice cream was also a favourite as I was too eager to wait that 4 minute defrosting time. I’d site on the floor, one hand in a 100g bag of crisps and the other grasping on tight to a block of cheese and I’d think of how many times I’d been called ‘chubby’ or ‘bloater’ that day. You know my fondest memory is of my PE teacher who laughed at me doing cross country and declared that the reason I had cheated (was caught doing a gammy legged flit across an out of bounds field) was because I was fat. She grinned like a lesbo at her first sight of minge as she told me I was overweight, yeah cause I really hadn’t noticed that one. And people wonder what leads people to compulsively over eat and to throw up after binging and to not eat at all. Hmm I wonder. Maybe they think people are fat because they love food and don’t care what they look like. More than likely is that people’s taunts cause people to over eat and make them feel like shit. Some people do not have the ability to whack their fingers down their throats but for some, that follows compulsively overeating. Every second is spent being careful what to shovel in their gobs because the consistency of some food is better than others when it comes for a re-visit. Popcorn for instance is one to be avoided if planning on shoving your face in the bowl and always cut your nails to tiny stubs to avoid the bloody puke. It’s not nice and it’s not pretty but neither are the comments that many people are forced to endure. Mind you some people just puke till they get into a certain dress size, I think I would have to throw up my entire body weight for that to happen for me.

I don’t think I had a turning point in my life when I decided that I did not need to eat everything we owned for dinner. I still do it. I still moan about it all the time but to give up food in such huge quantities is like asking a poof to give up arse. I know I changed my mode of dress and bought oversized things in all shades of tye dye and became a ‘smelly’ but I don’t think I have ever gotten any slimmer. I just wore folds of clothes to hide my folds of fat. I also needed to ditch my cardboard fringe I had come to loathe which made me look like a double porker. I had only had this fringe cut in because one day I thought it was time to transform myself into my idol so I shoved on a pair of bright green shades and cut my hair and introduced myself to my mother as Elton John. The fringe was the only way to fix my d.i.y job, so my mum said. I think it was revenge for the sight she witnessed of me as Elton John and Kiki Dee all rolled into one with a beautiful bowl cut, just at one side. So once I peeled of my thick ankle socks and adorned cardies to shame Nana Muskuri I was a changed person and actually got some cool friends who were good enough to introduce me to smoking,anything. And also to the wonderments of home made alcohol. My 15-18 years were very happy and it was around this time I got gay. That’s another day’s entry.

I have been informed of a writing competition and a kind friend mentioned I should enter. Flattery and lies do get you everywhere. Apparently I have to write my autobiog in 600 words… I can’t even write a sentence with less words than that so there really aint much hope. Ramble? I most definitely do.

Today is a dull day and will be made less dull with my return to work numero deux where I really am appreciated for the wench that I am. I also get to see at least 4 people that I have not seen for 6 weeks. That is the number of friends I have. Oh I never made it to university yesterday again. And as I have the next 2 days off I will try again on Monday. Damn that sun that looks so pretty and feels so cold.

Oh and no word from the American Chick about that date.

Listening to: SHAKIRA – Laundry Service

Today’s Likes

Sleeping Hugs
Young B
Comfy Pants
Text Hugs

Today’s Dislikes

Travel Guides, well I aint going nowhere so why should anyone else
People who check their change after I have laboriously counted it back to them
Squint Glasses, my own
Shit on Shoes