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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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I was sat in class yesterday minding nobody’s business but the girl’s next to me when Slutwhoreprostitutetart yells out, “Jesus, are those two gonna take their eyes off you at all this lesson?” And so I did a full 360 degree turn in my chair to see two ponytailed crew members decked out in adidas tracksuits with elasticated bottoms fully staring at nothing but me. Slutwhoreprostitutetart ‘glared them into submission’ and I was mortified. Why the fuck did these 80s throwbacks have nothing better to do with their time than stare at me? What makes me an object of stareification? I personally would say it was my beauty they were after and were hoping Miss Fee would turn round, give them a wink and offer to take them out dancin’. With faces like that I really don’t think so. They even made me look beautiful so I owe them a lot. But I told you, people DO stare at me and I wish I knew why. They didn’t have a look of ‘I wanna kill that lesbian’ or anything so that’s what I don’t understand. Oh well, we can’t all be gorgeous, as I know only to well.
After finishing uni early (legitimately for once) I was waiting for el bus to use up my return ticket when I had a tex from Beautiful Boy to tell me he was on his way to meet me at uni. Oh the cuteness. So I called him from someone else’s phone, thinking he was winding up The Fee and he was puffing his way up the large hill so I went to meet him and had a casual walk into town. Casual is the only way Fatfuckfee is capable of walkin and even then I still managed to perspire like a crab in a nun’s fanny. Maybe the cigarettes didn’t help and I’m sure the furry hooded monster coat I was trailing around in didn’t help my cause either. I looked a bonny shade of bruise by the time my thick legs made the 20 minute walk (hey it was as good as all uphill…). I had actually worked up an appetite and so to add to the digestive I had eaten in the morning I ate a baguette, all of it. And then 2 pints, with all the badness in pints, drinking one is as good as two days worth of food so I didn’t need to eat anything for the rest of the day. And I turned up to work half drunk. It was fun for the first 15 minutes but by the time 6.30pm came around I was hungover and in need of bed, sadly my own but I struggled on through with my pasted on smile which began to droop and turned into trippable over lips. Not a good look. And then I came home and went mad. No change there then. My head needs fixing so if anyone can think of any remedies feel free to email them to me. Well that will be it for another day, maybe I will do something interesting tonight and not go mad and have something decent to blog. Hardly fuckin’ likely. Britney Wannabe 
4/04/2002 01:37:00 PM
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Adventures of Charmin |
