|
I am a 25 year old butcheyfemme queer with rubbish on my mind and sparkles everywhere else My Profile
|
I thought I was resigned to my usual Friday night of whiling away the hours playing with my weblog, watching Buffy and smoking my mum's huge cigarettes. I was wrong. My pyjamas were as good as on with my hot chocolate warming up and here's Beautiful calling, wanting me to go keep a poof company for a couple of hours. Who am I to refuse the lure of a pretty homosexual? And so we hang out in our home of Siberia with me setting a drinks limit on the night of three. Knowing I would be wasted after 2 I thought this was reasonable. After all I had a not so substantial tea of cous cous. Bad consistency for the revsit however. When the straight folks talking about shafting nostrils intimated me more than it should have, we took off for castros. Obviously being the cheap folks we are we made it for castros pre 11pm. We were stood by the bar stealing condoms (can u steal things that are free?) when in walks 3 people I did not expect to see. Clearly they were more surprised than I was. Isn't it wonderful how a group of people can be so shocked and so utterly disappointed to see you that not only do they head straight for the toilet when they arrive to discuss the procedure for leaving without causing too much offensive but then leave about 10 minutes later anyway. To have that power in this instance is not a good thing. And off they go, the sooner the better in order not to let Miss Fee ruin their night any further. And then unexpectedly, not unlike a sneaky fart that slips out mid sneeze, I know home is the only place for me at that point in time. Beautiful Boy sponged the tears and fuelled me into sobriety with his warm hugs and I leave early. 11.30 pm early to be exact. I did not have time to exceed my drinks limit, forgot my no smoking rule which had done so well until castros and managed to offend at least one person as they ran out of castros quicker than bursting skin. It's great being the person that everyone, even so called friends, want to be around. How different people act when they are out with other people. And when Beautiful Boy's hugs did not manage to make me less paranoid and jealous I knew there was only one answer. I went home for parental hugs which are a bit like sugary tea. They cure most things. I lay awake most of the night, mind cluttered with nonsense and when I drifted off there were no dreams. I awoke this morning with the sharp nagging feeling in various parts of my body that I did stupid things last night in my drunken 3 drinks state. Fuck. I am not gonna berate myself for wanting to slice myself open and pull out my insides because I have been feeling much better recently. This is a minor setback and I know things will get better. And always as I write or as I feel like a turd I think of the wise words of one J Bo and this sorts out any patheticness I may feel, 'self pity is a very unattractive feature honey'. It suits me not.
But anyway, let's lighten the tone of this entry right up. Double buggies/prams... what the hell are they all about? If you are gonna have the unfotunate mishap of having more than one baby then get a long, one in front of the other, buggy. Double buggies not only take up the whole pavement but are a danger to babies as they encroach road space and have been the cause of many an accident. Why crucify regular members of the public with your 'i need my space and yours and yours' buggy. It aint our fault you got laid and got more than you bargained for. Sort it out over ovulating mothers. And at least 2 people told me how much weight I had lost. It's kinda embarrasing. What are you supposed to say to that, "yeah, right enough, I keep forgetting to eat and then when I do I feel like throwing it up but thanks for noticing anyway". What's worst is when people say "my god, you look so good, you've lost so much weight." Why thanks, so 1) u think I was a fat bastardo before and 2) you think I looked shit before and finally 3) you think that cos I'm thin I'm hot. Like weight equals hotness or something. Pile of shite. If you are a bloater you can't be atrtactive or something, that's so wrong. I hate skinny bastards. The other day it was commented that my tits had disappeared which is also all wrong. the only place I have lost weight is from my once fat ankle Someone also told me I 'suited bones' though which I thought was an unusual comment to make. I had stated that I had found a bone that I had never felt before, possibly an elbow bone or something and I was then told that I did in fact suit visible bones. I like feeling my bones (some of them) but I don't think they look very pretty. How can bones be hot? Listening to: sophie ellis bextor Likes fresh orange edible pants, who needs a chip supper after a night out blood more nights out Dislikes mucky pain saggy eyes sneaky people people that think i don't notice stuff right under my non hairy nose 'accidents' Britney Wannabe 
4/20/2002 09:59:00 AM
|
Adventures of Charmin |
