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I am a 25 year old butcheyfemme queer with rubbish on my mind and sparkles everywhere else My Profile
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Best Tex: “Police have found a badly burnt corpse with no brain and a massive fanny. Tex me back so I know you are ok.”
Due to the unusual sun activity in Aberdeen yesterday, myself and the Queen of Fun accosted a dog for the day (or two hours anyway) and had a trip to the park. The dog didn’t seem to mind, I fed it on biscuits and let it lick some young boys arses’ so she was happy. There was a lot of walking involved but when the dog ran off to sniff the balls of other dogs and owners I left the Queen of Fun to do the 200 meter dash across the grass to haul him off, using the ‘I’m wearing mules’ excuse. Really its cause I am a lazy bastardo and love to watch other people doing the running but you will know that. Queen of Fun runs well however, not a shaky cheek in sight, not that I was looking of course. Then we got to play with the dog’s balls, rubbery and slivery and ever so bouncy. It was here I lost said mule to a game of cricket and had to do an undignified walk to retrieve it in my emergency carrot orange socks. I was seen for miles as Queen of Fun disowned me and my comedyness and strangers hurled abuse. After a whole two laps around the park enter Babs, another with nothing better to do than hang around parks on a day off. In search of beauty we went to TK Maxx. We were unsuccessful in our quest but really we knew that all along and went only for the laugh at massive fanny fitting pants and rouge floral prints. I wanted pretty boxer shorts but no fanny I know would have been comfortable in these oversized bad boys. As there was drinking to be done we retired to Queen of Fun’s house to eat sandwiches, how quaint, and begin on the beers. I drank 6 beers and there was no vomit in sight. That’s now two night outs where Mr Spew has been a no show. I am impressed at my great alcohol tolerance. Queen of Fun, Beautiful Boy and myself made a non dramatic entrance to castros, hole of non talent. We just about caught the end of Britney but by the time my chubby legs and slippers made it to the dance floor she had been replaced by some 1982 shite. The place remained empty for at least an hour which is the amount of time it took Queen of Fun to get dancing. Oh some ladies and their shyness. I danced most of the night, kissed no one, not even the regular toilet bowl which has become a part of my life and had a wonderful night. I got semi propositioned by a straight girl, who didn’t live up to my straight girl expectations and so I hastily declined. Had she been American, it may have just swung it in her favour. I’m not sure what happened after that but I woke up in the morning with a bunch of scratches on one arm. It looks not unlike an allergic reaction or cat fun but I have no cat and I don’t think I touched anything, even the sheets were clean. I also woke up to play the game of ‘find the eyes’. They were hidden in the dark recesses of my face and a trip into town to buy overpriced eye cream was in order. I still look like a corpse, equally as pale and withdrawn and with zero conversational skills. Oh and someone said I looked ‘thinner’ last night. Not that this person had ever met me before in their life but that’s beside the point. Unless my scales deceive me then this person most definitely did deceive me. Oh well, I should wear black more often. And away I go to purr over pretty ladies in Buffy cos let’s face it, even the lesbian girlfriend is hotter than ring sting. Listening to: Oops I did it again Today’s Likes Night time hugs Amsterdam Dancing, however freakily High pitched singing, for comedy effect only Foxy Queen of Fun Today’s Dislikes Tantrums People with NO hint of individuality Feeling like a turd Bad eggs… No phone calls Britney Wannabe 
4/07/2002 06:02:00 PM
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Adventures of Charmin |
