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


Saturday, March 16

Today I am off work, sick of something, a lot of things actually. Me moaning for one thing. That fully does my head in. I seem to take one tiny thing and turn it into something so massive it really is the end of the world. I as good as thought it was but I will not be depressed any longer, for the sake of my weblog at least. Instead I will be full of joy and goodness and tell you about something exciting.

The other day I was disappointed to hear someone I half respected telling her friend that it was a shame Will Young (pop idol winnner for those who've had their TV up their arse for months) was gay because he 'had' a beautiful smile. What on earth?? So because he has come out his smile has faded and he is now ugly. Gay people don't deserve to be good looking? How can people be so ignorant and and so fuckin rude? These are the types of people that do yet have access to telephones and running water. Or so you'd think. Actually these are supposed to be intelligent people thinking intelligent thoughts but instead they make judgements such as that? And people wonder why so many people are so scared of coming out. Personally i wasn't. I embraced the event with everything I could. And that's a lot of embracing I tell you. I was dying to set myself loose from my huge closet. Some people think I should still be in there but it really wasn’t all that comfy. In fact there were so many massive boots and skirts hanging around in there that I am quite surprised I managed to squeeze myself to the door, ease it open a fraction and slip out. For a lass my size there is no such thing as slippin out. Jeez I sound like fuckin Vanessa Feltz pre diet. Anyway, I was 15 when I got my first taste for ladies. I had heard rumours that my mate had been caught sniffin’ around some fanny and so a crush was developed. I confessed my desire to stroke the pussies, she told me it was normal, just a phase (if I had a girl for every time I heard that I’d never get up for air amongst all the fish) and that I would get over it. I cried and hoped she’d feel sorry for lil gay Fee and wanna lick away my tears and everything else that tastes of marmite. It took a good few weeks before we downed 2 whole bottles of K cider and were suitably drunk and she lunged in for the kiss, full tongue and everything. Now I had kissed boys before, acne ridden and cheesey balled but this was unlike anything I’d ever experienced in my life. Everything tingled and I was pleased as pussy as we skipped down the road singing delights such as ‘Saturday night’ by Whigfield (rather hot for a Scandinavian she was) and other mid nineties twaddle. I had died and gone to girl heaven. No sorry that was when I met the editor of Mayfair and he offered me free porn. She crushed me [with her mammoth mammories] when I found out she told the entire world about by my new found gayness. She kissed me about 3 times after that, but it felt like I was raping her. Something gave me the impression that she wasn’t enjoying it as much as I was. Maybe it was the way she jammed her mouth (and legs once) shut when I tried to tongue her for the 14th time. After that I told the rest of my friends who had been deaf and fucking stupid and didn’t know. It took some convincing, you know with my ass length hair and no swagger in sight. I phoned every gay number in the book. Oh no not ‘mooch my pussy for 50p a minute’ but more like the gay switchboard in every town there was one. Why the fuck I cared about gays in Luftborough I will never know. I arranged meetings with ‘helpers’ from various organisations. My first real experiences with 100% real bush chompers were disappointing. They were all after slipping you a finger or 10 and I just wanted friendship. So I made my way through some ladies and many girls as I gladly offered a lip or four to those friends wanting to check out snogging a bird. Miss Happy Slapper I salute you. It was all very token but I gotta kiss a lot of pretty ladies my male counterparts could never dream about kissin’. This whole time I was out shakin’ my checked trousered arse on the gay dancefloor, if you could ever get to it, I believe it was there. I thought I ruled the club because I was young and new. I didn’t but I did own the toilets cos my head was permanently wedged in them after the 4 drinks I had consumed. My drinking till puking started because my mate nicknamed me “Fifi la Femme Poodle Duck Crossbreed want a doggie biscuit, aha”. He was a cruel man. I could not stand the ‘femme’ jokes and was determined to prove my butchness. And so my mate devised some butch tests. One of these tests was to down a certain amount of alcohol without pukin or pissin within a certain amount of time. This was painful. Other such tests included propositioning beautiful straight birds. These tests didn’t prove my manliness but did heighten my stupidity status as straight birds set their rough handed prepubescent boyfriends on me for breaking in their girls before they had a chance and club owners set the police on me for breaching a helluva lotta peace. Immature: definitely. But so much fun. Once I grew up a fraction of a year I tried to date older ladies who turned out to be experienced in more ways than I care to remember and scared the shit outta me. I thought I was destined to be one of them spinsters that kids throw bread at and call ‘fanny licker’ (truth does not always hurt you know). But I wanted to at least share my spinster hood with a married bitch who’d use me on the side or an ugly man hater who’d batter me. I did much better than that however and I met an innocent young flame who I wish I could say I introduced to the ways of the gay but I was too much of a lady/gentleman for that. We had fun but it wasn’t too be. My inability to hold down a relationship is a source of amusement. Not my amusement mind you. And then quite unexpectedly, in walked The Queen of Fun who was very femme and grimaced her face and picked me up with the line ‘r u gay?’ Her eloquence made me want her. I wanted and I got. I was surprised and elated.

Well I guess that’s all I can be arsed telling you rite now. That was just a break down of my life as a queer which does sound very dull but the events outlined were filled with exciting anecdotes which make up a great deal of my ‘stories’. Honest, there really has been some excitement in the life of Feely Up Fee. My life as a queer fat kid would make a great book I am quite sure.

In the words of one pretty willow, “I think I’m kinda gay”

Listening To: Alanis (the second album)

Today’s Likes

Good Memories
Not eating
Vodka at 2pm
Dopplegangland (buffy episode)
Other people’s beds…

Today’s Likes

Nasty Nobs
Lack of sleep
People who hide things from you
Horizontal Stripes (they make me look like Mama Cass)
Chewen down nails
Things that hurt