I am a 25 year old butcheyfemme queer with rubbish on my mind and sparkles everywhere else >
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And so I return to delight you all in the spectacle I witnessed yesterday in the form of bowel problem lesbians. Or something to that effect anyway. I spontaneously went for a dance around midnight last night with one Lil Red. We had some party tunes on, a bit of Britney gets me in the mood anytime, and the next thing we know we are knocking back the beer and vodka (sometimes mixed, sometimes on their own) and the party frocks are going on and we are heading dance wards. The only place we wanted to go was The Priory but on spotting the ginormous queue which seemed to double back on itself we went in search of other players of cheesy pop. Esko was a no go, this was evident as soon as we flung back the huge iron doors (the lack of bouncers there to greet us and hold said door should have prepared us) and we saw 5 visible people, 4 of which were staff and 2 of this 4 were the bouncers who’d given up on the hope of new arrivals. We were now in a dilemma. Do we go home and go for the sleep option and wake up feeling kinda bright and less full of the cold or do we head to gayville in the hope of some delicious Britney and Shakira tunes? There was minimal debate over this question but how to decide which gay bar to go to was of course a problem. We opted for OUT, the size of the dance floor swung the vote, despite there only ever being no more than 4 people on it at one time last night. It was THAT busy. The first stop was the toilet to relieve our bladders of fastly drunk alcohol. A choice of 4 bogs and I manage to get the one with a 3 inch layer of turd all down the back. Pebble dashing at its very best. And so in disgust we leave the bog and notice that there are only about 3 other women in the place. It’s rather horrifying to look at these people and know that one of them came to OUT for a dance and a jobbie. And so I’m having a mini stress incase people think it was either of us two whose home toilet isn’t good enough to dump in when we find our bladders all full and we’re back in the toilet. OK, so there’s 4 bogs, 1 eliminate the one with the skids so that’s a choice of three. Lil Red picks one so I’m left with two. I go for the one with most bog roll, thinking if someone had a crappy arse that they would have finished the roll but here I go, lift up the seat (that should have been a give away) and I’m faced with a curly lesbian turd in all it’s full glory of about 8 inches (hence the fact it was curled around the bottom of the bowl). JESUS CHRIST. What is wrong with these people?? What self respecting girl goes to a club to shake her ass, hopefully pull a hot lady and smoke some fags and drop her load of shit down a public bog? So that’s either 2 fuckin rotten lesbos in the one club where the population of ladies is now at 8, or one lesbo with a serious ass problem. Come on ‘ladies’ (I use the term VERY loosely), if you know that at some point in the evening you gotta release the chocolate hostage, stay at bloody home and do us all a favour and keep a little bit of dignity. You’d be as well as poopin’ in the street in full view of the world if you are gonna shite in a small toilet and leave your mark in the form of welded on shit or a full on floater. I never want to witness the site of hard lesbian stools ever, ever again.
Poop rant over. Britney Wannabe
6/14/2002 06:14:00 PM
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