I am a 25 year old butcheyfemme queer with rubbish on my mind and sparkles everywhere else
Straight Man A has begun a quest for interesting toilet graffiti. It made me think of the most momentous toilet grafiti I ever saw (aside from the lesbo bar shite about whose girlfriend has a loose fanny and whose is tighter than a tensed sphincter). When I was around 13, that's age as well as stone, I was working on a bases of a stone for every year, I used to go for lunch at Bakers Oven. No wonder I'm a chubber you are probably thinking, devouring chips and cheese for lunch daily but I, however, was blessed with a mum who made me packed lunches of wholemeal bread and raisins goodness and had to drool over everyone elses sloppy delights and rummage in the bins for their left overs, that was why I was a heffer. Anyway, I think I had fallen out with my usual friends, not simply because I was a nasty person but more so because they used to have phases of where they could be seen hanging out with the fat girl or not, and I had taken up with some randoms whose local accents I could not decipher. It's funny saying that now because for some reason my good upbringing has had reverse affects and I'm common as trash these days. And so for lunch we used to hang out in the Baker's Oven toilets eating our days old food because hygiene was a foreign concept at age 13. In these toilets we used to muck around with ouigi (sp?) boards because we thought we were hard and that we actually could make them work. Well we could make them work because I know that on more than one occasion I found myself forcing the glass around to freak out everyone who was convinced 'fred' was talking to them. I never went to the extremes of smashing the glass but I really did feel like it on more than 16 occasions but could never decide which person I disliked most. It was in here that someone pointed out the graffiti. There were the usual, 'I'd do yer ma' and 'johny is a good ride' scrawlings but in massive blue marker was etched 'Julie loves Pat' and while I guess 'Pat' could have been Patrick, so there would be no disputing the fact, underneath, written in letters the size of my arse (yeah, massive) was, 'LESBIANISM IS THE ONLY WAY TO LIFE'. It was the first time I had ever seen this word. Sure I had heard it being thrown around at school, sometimes at me but mainly at the PE teacher but here it was, in blue and, well just blue really, for everyone to see. I didn't actually understand the concept of being a lesbian at this point and I thought it was an infliction. I also had a fear of Julian Clary and Boy George (is also funny that a few years later I was compared to Boy George, thanks for that) because I just didn't get it. All the people I was with shouted 'gadze' and 'lessies' was blackmarkered across Julie and Pat's declaration of love. It all felt so wrong and illegal not to mention fuckin' disgusting. It's kinda stupid that that's the impression kids have of gay people at such a young age. If something is not understood then clearly it is wrong. And even though I wanted to kiss at least 5 of my female friends, it didn't occur to me that i too was gonna be a rug sniffer one day. I was convinced that 'Julie and Pat' must eat at Baker's Oven regularly and so I began hanging out there more frequently and on my own, kinda waiting for 'Julie and Pat' who could have been anyone, to make an entrance. I never saw them, or maybe I did but will never know. I know I thought about them for awhile. The first time I saw 2 gay men was around this time also. I was cycling around the Duthie Park with a couple of friends when we saw 2 men holding hands. Knowing what I know now about the 'cottaging' scene, maybe it weren't hands they were holding but I was scared. I thought they were a disease and that looking at them too long would turn me into a man who dresses like a woman (again, my Julian Clary fear was present). I still cycled past them at least 43 times and ended up in bed for a week with the over excersion I was so not used to. Tomorrow's topic will be 'cottaging'.
Sweetners in tea, doesnt have the same effect
Bruised backs (thanks to forward rolls)
Instantly forgettable people
My disappearing bones, damn the return of the fatness
PS Straight Man A: are you using your 'quest for bog graffiti' as an excuse to frequent public toilets??
5/09/2002 09:30:00 AM
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