It’s happened! Something so magnificient it is as good as unbelievable… no, Miss Fee did not lay the lady of her dreams along with all her pretty friends but she did in fact have an eventful weekend. Please sit back, get a cup of tea, relax and try to take the news in. After my rather lonely past few nights I really did expect to be feeling sorry for myself chugging back gin and tonic and red wine (all the alcohol my parents possess) on my lonesome but no. I partied, well kinda. My evening begun badly with my credit card being declined and my reaslisation that I had not paid my £300 minimum payment in 3 months and that I had £7 to my name. The night could not possibly be a good one, with all the bus fares and alcohol and smokes and maybe food I would have to fork out for. However, I bought the foulest, cheapest wine I saw with a percentage over 9% in order to have more money to put toward my expensive menthol fags. On meeting Beautiful Boy (we are officially an item by the way, no, he doesn’t know yet) I knew it was impossible to have a shit night, even with only enough cash for no drinks and no taxi home and we headed to his brother’s to drop off stuff, as a favour, non sexual. A 10 second stop here lasted a good 2 hours which gave us time to drink someone else’s alcohol and watch Shakira frolicking in the mud at least 13 times. In the rush to get ourselves ready we drank the wine and forgot about eating. As food is sadly still not my best friend at the moment all I had eaten throughout the day was 2 baby bananas and a half tin of sardines (the other half got lobbed in the bin for the stench to build up in my work’s staff room over the next few days). Needless to say that I left Paul’s house a very drunk girl with big rosy cheeks and do not remember the bus journey which apparently was rowdy (I caused a stir by getting my new piercing out ;-) ). Paul necked a burger with the grace of a straight man giving head and we strode into Castros, happy and drunk. First stop was depositing my coat, second stop was depositing my half bottle of wine and 2 vodkas. Gagging is a beautiful sound. Mostly I sat in a corner all evening watching the adoring eyes checking out my new boyfriend but only I got to hold his hand. I danced maybe 4 times, once you sit down you so never wanna get up again. I even had to go without a non sexy groove to Slave 4 U cos no one I cared about was dancing. My lack of sleep kicked in with the drinks that were being bought for me by Beautiful Boy’s string of admirers who thought it wise to impress a skint Fee. How right they were. As I was about to slide into a coma my phone vibrated and that so woke me up to a smile, as did the message it contained. It went along the lines of ‘I really fancy you, I want you, how about it?’ My heart leapt as I saw who the sender was, J Bo. She loved me! Hurrah! My years of trying to slip her a finger had paid off in more than just fish (jus kidding). I sent one hurriedly back telling her it was about time we got it together and told everyone within hollering distance of my new love. And then my phone vibrated again, this really was a good night, and to my horror the message read, ‘Sorry that message was meant for someone else’. My little world crumbled around me and my chortling friends were left to sweep up the mess as congealed bits of my body scattered themselves amongst the crowd. It’s about as close as I will get to J Bo but let’s just say that she didn’t christen me ‘Feely up Fee’ for nothing. I found myself very weary, desperate to slip into Beautiful Boy’s bed, amongst other things but was still hanging around like a stubborn jobbie at 3.20am. Beautiful Boy and I walked home with a man from the club, a real man over the age of 25, the only one aside from my dad that I know. Beautiful Boy’s home was a good hour walk while this stranger’s house was closer to a half hour. We found ourselves in a lovely flat, decorated in relics, drinking tea and tap water (awaiting the skitters anytime soon). The gent was very hospitable and showed myself and Beautiful Boy our bed for the evening. The two hardened tea drinkers resolved to stay up and chat and I took my sorry ass off to the big double bed I was to share with Beautiful Boy. However, I was scared to fall asleep, drunkenly worried about whether my tap water was spiked, whether I would skid his bed with having drunk a good 3 litres of the tap water and being carerful not to leave any other lasting marks such as drool and puke. I was joined in bed by Beautiful Boy who asked did I mind if he hugged me during the night and to ignore any hard ons I might feel against my back… Yeah right because I have the ability to turn a poof on with these womanly curves. I think I did catch 2 hours sleep in between battering a snoring Beautiful Boy with my limp fist and going back and fore to the toilet for no skitters but more tap water. I woke my sleeping beauty with a thump, realising it was 11.20am and I had somewhere to be at 12.45. After rudely trying on our host’s lurid yet labelled wardrobe and silver glitter Stetson (I put this on to detract attention away from my missing presumed dead eyes) we cautiously made our way through to our host’s company, not quite the gobby bitches we’d been not 4 hours previsouly. Our host was divine, plying us with Irn Bru while laughing at Beautiful Boy’s inability to hold a glass steady and taking us home and almost killing us in the process. That aside I thought this must be a real nice guy to take in two randoms he’d met only hours before, let us sleep in his spare room, offer us food and drink and to drive us home which was clearly out of his way. There are some decent people out there whose generosity astounds me. Maybe if things don’t work out for me and Beautiful Boy, there will be hope for me and the Host?
Listening to: Bjork – Post
Femme gals in caps
Butches dancing with big coats on
Waking up in the night in a sweat cos you’ve forgotten to take off your sweat bands
Cool kids bracelets which my wrists r 2 chubby for