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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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Quote of the day: "Are your hair extensions sellotaped in?"
I haven't spewed in my bed or the surrounding carpet area since a bacardi incident around the age of 18. I don't know why I decided that last night, the night before my two courseworks were due, was the night that I needed to re-indulge in this not so pleasant sport, but I did. Everything about yesterday was accidental. I went to uni with Straight Man A around 11am with all the best intentions in the world of doing actual work. It came to 2pm and while my weblog was looking semi ok, no words of merit had been written in my report and/or essay. It was lunch time. And then it was 5pm. It was tea time. And there were some hot chocolate breaks in there too. It wasnt till about 7pm that I finally decided to rack my brain for some clever words to input into my report. I never found them yet. It was also around this time I decided there was definitely no way I could go to the Muff Club. But then the phone goes. Beautiful Boy and his Beautiful Boyf demanding I come out. They offered to pick me up from uni and who am I lazy arse to refuse a free lift. And i really did want to go out. I was collected around 9.30, essays and reports half done and off to drink beer and do the herbal. My plan of no more than 4 drinks worked well. Or was it 6? We were met by Foxy American Chick (the original) and Lucious L before heading to the land of dirt and skank. It was here we were joined by a couple of randoms, aka Glaswegian Chicks. I made sure at least one of these ladies was dancing to Crazy, rock version. I was escorted out of the building by poofs before receiving a lift from the Foxy One and her mates. It was then I remembered why I like to throw up at the start of the night. I came home, tried to puke quietly for fear of waking sleeping parents and swayed my way to bed. I tried shutting my eyes but it was going all wrong. I could feel the puke part deux coming on so instead of actually getting out of bed, i was THAT incapable, I reached for a magazine (thankfully Britney escaped the wrath of my bile) and spewed my ringer till it hurt more than I care to remember. I passed out only to awake an hour later for more hacking and slivering. I woke real early this morning to a face of sticky tuna cucumber sandwiches and an aroma of something far worse. What a way to wake up; on my hands and knees at 8.30am with the rubber gloves (I'm sure this sentence started out somewhere different) scrubbing my pretty new carpet, and throwing up again. And here I am, 10.30, having had enough of all things uni and having no idea how my unsettled stomach is going to make it to uni without regurgitating the cup of sugary tea I just took an hour to drink. Oh how I love postal surprises. Feeling as bad as I do today it was beautiful to find a letter addressed to Miss Fee that wasn't demanding overdue debts be paid. Inside was a double page spread of my Flick from Neighbours, being kinda nude and very hot. Queen of Fun knows me all too well. And off I go to inspect the pictures more closely, for a glimpse of a sneaky nipple. Listening to: My head telling me that cheese is called for Today's Likes (this may be hard) My pretty pictures on this site Andrews Liver salts, i have none Eminem vs New Order Enough already Today's Dislikes Taste of bile Chapped Skin Declined Credit Cards Not eating pre drinking Coursework Britney Wannabe 
4/16/2002 10:38:00 AM
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Adventures of Charmin |
