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


Monday, October 28

I had about as much motivation to go out on Saturday night as I have the motivation to eat less. I was also real tired and exceedingly fucked off and had images of my usual abusive drunken episodes where I to drink more than half a pint and shout for no known reason. Despite this, I found myself downing mini beer bottles and when they were polished off, vodka and diluting juice. I was wasted and surprisingly happy so with Lil Red, Lesbo Bob, Beautiful Boy and Sexy G, I went to the dive that is Out. I hadn't been in what felt like months but I really wanted to dance to my Britney, Shakira, and Pink with a bit of Justin thrown in for good measure and this is the only place to do this without being surrounded by leering men and wannabe London girls who look as good in gypsy frills as I do in a sequined evening gown. Nothing had changed since my last visit. There were the same people, the same music (thankfully) and the same lack of free water. Am I right in thinking that every nightclub has a legal obligation to provide free drinking water, be that from the bar or via a special tap in the bog? I wanted to argue but I didn't want to offend the new barmaid who was no more lesbo than Britney. The fag hags bothered me on Saturday night. They bother me every night but on Saturday I couldn't see the homos for the coiffed hair, cheap perfume and skin tight trousers which were always badly teamed with those damn gypsy frills. In London homo bars I'm sure they have policies to let in only a certain amount of straight people and I wish they had the same here. One time we decided to frequent G.A.Y and Straight Man A was harrassed at the door by the bouncers, demanding to know if he'd been in gay bars before. This was rather amusing as Straight Man A is about as offensive and threatening as a puff of wind. But at least it kept the numbers of gay peolpe to straight people much higher. Obviously I don't have an issue with straight people being in gay bars as I love it when J Bo and SMA come out with us, it's just the fag hags I have issues with. It just pisses me off when the place is over run with women who think they are so much more beautiful than the lesbos. I'm sure when fag hags were around years ago they were hot. Fag hags are supposed to be hot but now all I see is too much make up and loose boobs. If you're gonna be a fag hag then at least be something pretty special to give the lesbos that you glare at something to gawp at. Sometimes I even forget it's a gay bar. I go into the toilets and wait in a queue with 6 fag hags all talking about how 'tidy' the gay men are and how ugly the dykes are. They feel quite free to run off a tirade of abuse about the dykes, thinking that I am one of their permed crew. Hello I know I aint the butchest thing you ever did see but that don't make me straight and it certainly doesn't mean I'm gonna join in and slag all the lesbos that go there. Even though many are butch, they are still cuter than these fake tanned gobby cows with nothing better to do than gyrate their bonny hips against any unwilling gay male they see who are about as turned on by this as the fag hags by lesbo puss. It's vile. I say too much about my disliking for fag hags so I will stop now but I really do wish is they are gonna come to gay bars that they shouldn; get all uptight when they see chicks snogging. They make people feel like they are doing wrong and surely we shouldn't be made to feel like that in a gay bar of all places. There's plenty of straight bars so go and start fights and curl your lip (facial only please) in them.

Aside from moaning too much, I also got to munch carpet. I know I'm a lesbo but the thought of chomping down on OUT's skanky pube filled carpet with all my bellies flopping out was not a situation I looked forward to but one that inevitably had to happen. Luscious L made his usual dramatic entry with his 14 inch mohawk, cut up jeans and funny sleeved wooly jumper and took one look at Miss Fee and had to throw his whole body weight in my direction for extra hugs. It was so clear that I would not come out of the situation with diginity as Luscious L thrust his arms around me and and I was thrust into the floor with all bellies, chins and asses wobbling like they were going out of wobbling fashion. It was a horrendous sight to witness and I did not regain my composure all night and lay on the floor a bit too long for all manners of gays and fag hags to spill their drink over me as they walked on by. I felt like a urinal.

Not to worry. Like a face full of rug is enough to ruin my night. I danced like a twatt, showing off my 'wedding' moves as well as 'getting ready to rumble' a bit too comfortably. I tried to get Lesbo Bob to pull off moonwalking while dancing with a high waisted Spaniard and I'm sure it went down as well as a straight man but hey it was all in the name of fun. Or vodka.

I had more to tell you but my mind is thinking about cheese and how much I should be at lectures. Oh well sometimes my mind is so easily convinced not to go to uni that I wonder why I even bothered to do this final year. c'est la vie. Yeah, French was not my stronger point.

Today's Likes

Wanting to know J Bo's good news.. tho i can guess what it's about
Wensleydale cheese and cranberry
Hot ladies
Buffy porn

Today's Dislikes

My puffy eyes
Being ragey
Being selfish (I always have been you know)
My sore head
Being so angry, one day I'll figure it out