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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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It was the Queen of Fun's birthday yesterday. The usual crowd gathered in a cold yet classy pub for over priced food and drink and didn't leave until around 6 hours later in a swaying, yelling, under-fed and over-drunk kinda way. I had vowed not to drink, knowing I would have to go to uni at 9.50am for a 10 miniute tutorial the following morning but spirits were high and I had to ensure mine stayed higher in order to keep these heavy eyes open and so I was easily persuaded to down beer after beer after diet coke. The Queen's obsession with glamour model Jordan reared it's puffed up head once again as she as good as licked and sucked at the scantily clad poster I had stupidly given her. She didn;t care that she almost left her wallet behind as long as Jordan made it the distance home she'd be ok. Worrying I know. The Queen got drunk and 'spinny' on cider which I did my best to spill all over her light jeans after knocking just about everyone elses' drinks across tables and photographs. How unusual that I would be off balance. We even entered a pub quiz and our high hopes of winning were quashed when it turned out that between 10 of us, our most intelligent answers were 'Jammi Dodger', 'A boat' and 'Ainsley Harriet' which related to the questions as much as I relate to penis size worry. We were rowdy and quite drunkenly abusive to the 'sweaty students' who were dressed in scarves which wrapped around about 18 times and who wore brown and green a bit too comfortably. They took the quiz as seriously as I take 'poo chat' and threw more that a dirty look at us as we bellowed 'repeat! repeat!' to the disgust of the other players of the quiz who clearly spent too much time playing pub quizes and even had 'ingenious' names for their well established teams. It made me vomit.
And then, for some reason, a plastic jobbie was circulated around our group. I have no idea where such a phallic looking turd came from, although it may have something to do with my visit to the toy shop earlier in the day. And I also have no idea why we were so amused by a bit of brown plastic but it was hilarious when the cheery barmaid stood on it after it had been strategically placed in her path and simply kicked it aside and walked on quite graciously. Then Mr Brown was placed on my head and as it had such a sheen to it, like a freshly laid job, it slide right off and before we could say 'watch the poop', it flew over the balcony and was chased by the barman who retrieved it from a group of lardy lads in rugby shirts and skinny jeans who were less than impressed about our little flying gift. I never thought I'd see the day when I'd see poo fly but yesterday I did. And I never knew that anyone could be killed or seriously injured by a falling turd but yesterday someon almost was. Oh the shame. "Johny, why do you have a fracture to the skull?" "Oh you know, the usual aerial poo thing". It was held aloft on it's return and used for various purposes such as a cigar prop, a dildo and an object of worship. We had begun our own cult and we were praising a jobbie. It should have been time to go home then. J Bo waved the shit around and managed to snap it it half where it was revealed that poop was not a plastic dump made of left over Barbie bits but this poop was pure Woody Woodpecker wood. Splinters in yer ass is not a pleasant thought. Now we were in possession of 2 distinctively oaty lookin poops and there was nothing else to do but leave them in the toilet and wait for them to get flushed and make revist after revist. There was no way poops that heavy were going anywhere. There wasn't even any toilet roll so all them girles who went in after would have been wondering who the 2 girls (or one with a real bad bowel) were that were sitting around with the skiddy bifs. I hate no toilet roll. A lesbian should never drip dry. We watched in cheeky glee as all the wannabe glamourous girls strutted out of the toilet because we knew there was moist panties all round, and not in a good way. And the way they walked awkwardly with their legs slightly parted for the rest of the evening gave everything away. After we had well and truly out-stayed our welcome and riled every person in the place from customers to the bar staff who I'm sure served our drinks with extra gob and a wide grin, we moved on to Po Na Na. Our numbers now diminished, we left with only myself, The Queen, Lil Red, Lesbo Bob, J Bo and Sexy G. Here there were plenty of drink traumas and lost belongings as well as a 'piley on' Lil Red who appreciated that about as much as she appreciates the Queen of Fun's taunts to dress up as a clown on Saturday night when Lil Red fears clowns as much as she'd fear a penis. Anyway, we were all pretty gobby and dancing horrendously so it was time to leave, and because at least 4 of us had to get up real early. That 4 reduced to 2 as Bob decided to not bother with photography and I set my alarm to call my tutor and tell her I was ragey, tired and ill and would not be in for that 10 minute tutorial. Someone woman in large glasses with a sherbet lemon up her ass is throwing me out of the lab. I must go. I think I'm typing too loudly. It's hurting my head. Oh and be warned, a great deal of 'poetry' was concocted to the amusement of all and I have been asked to publish it on here. It's vile. It's coming soon... Britney Wannabe 
10/16/2002 01:30:00 PM
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Adventures of Charmin |
