Diary of a Glitter Splashed Britney Lovin' Lesbo

I am a 25 year old butcheyfemme queer with rubbish on my mind and sparkles everywhere else

Name:Miss Fee


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Currently Reading:

The Outsider - A Camus

Choke - C Palahnuik


Thursday, August 8

Today I feel like a bad person. There are a couple of reasons that have determined this feeling, none of which are interesting or appropriate enough to divulge to you. But, I will tell you that I was awoken from fine dreams (like the one where my best friends forefitted my party in favour of Coronation Street and apples) by a 5 stone animal (nope, not spawn of The Fee) masacring my duvet at some ridiculous hour of 6.30am. Subsequently I was unable to return to my evil loner dreams for even 10 minutes and this has left me feeling as ragey as a lesbo sans shag and as tired as an ME sufferer on a come down. My appearance reflects this adequately. My unbrushed hair looks permed and my unironed clothes make me look neglected. My face is as sunken as the Titanic and my breath smells as though the 5 stone animal took a dump in my gob. It's not unusual for me to look and smell like i have been sleeping rough in the sewers but today there is slight cause for concern. I am drinking post work with actual real life girls. I don't really know any proper girls aside from sparklecat who's generally more girle than Shakira but these are as good as unknown girls which means they will take one look at this butch affair and leave the bar while pointing in the direction of the mens bogs and trying to cop of feel of my genitals 'just to check'. I mean I know I'm no Lebso Fred with a skin head and boiler suit but compared to these ladies I am as butch as Arnie. I even dressed in all Lil Red's clothes in an effort to give me a hint of feminininity but jeez i could wear a pink dress with matching bag and gloves and look like a transvestite. I hate when you really want to make an impression on someone and you just end up looking like a freak show and making the usual ass of yourself. I shouldn;t care what people think but I do. I should think that if other people don;t like me then it's their problem but i think if someone hates me then it must be my fault. I think it's the years of 'fat fuck' taunts that have made me feel like this but I'm getting over it, really I am. Just because you have felt one way in the past doesnt mean you always have to feel like that. feelings are not habits. I'm just ranting here to myself now so feel free to take no notice. It's unusual that I'm serious and it's unlikely to happen again, until I eat all the pies and homebakes and undefrosted icecream and get all ragey and depressed that is. Anyhow, I prefer to take a lighter look at things and all this seriousness is making me itchy, or that could be the fleas I have acquired from an unknown source, so in order to make myself feel humoured I will go and think about massive minge, plump pussy and beaver burps. And Pam.

Chomping my way through: fruity toffos
Word of the day: clambering

today's likes

my slinky new phone
studded bracelets
having time to blog furiously
lilac shimmery nails (who said I wasn;t girlie?)

Today's Dislikes

Sore nails
trousers wedged up fannies
jealous straight girls
my maniacal hair
scubby arms that look like they have been torn apart by freddy krugar