I am a 25 year old butcheyfemme queer with rubbish on my mind and sparkles everywhere else >
My Profile
|
I got the best wake up call this morning. When I stay at home I am woken up religiously by my furry dog jumping on my creased head and farting more than necessary while slobbering all over my face to add to the already huge pile of drool on my chin. However, today, I was so tired that I did not even stir when the doggie and his little bro came to party at 8.30am and they skulked off, feeling neglected. I was also so tired that even my mum's high pitched singing of Britney did not rouse me. This always wakes me as it drives me mad that she finds it impossible to ever get the words right and sings about Britney in a space suit in nebraska. Anyway, I was in that really good part of sleep, you know when you are dreaming about stuff like peddling a scooter (is that not impossible?) and descending spirally staircases with your love to reach the best toy shop in the world, when I was aware of my mum hollering and making her way up the stairs. Now this never fails to wake The Fee, even when I have 5 inches of foam wedged in my ears, the sound of my mum pattering up the stairs towards my room. I'm instantly sitting bolt upright, eyes wide open and running to pick up all my gayness from the floor, as well as all the sweet wrappers and attempting to shut the door in her face with my polished toe. The thought of my mum in my room with all the magazines and dust and crinkled clothes isenough to send me into a blind panic. And here she was yelling the very words, 'Oh it's [Lil Red]! It's [Lil Red]! She's calling all the way from Australia! Get up! She's on the phone! Come on! Are you awake?! It's [Lil Red] in Australia!!!' So, amongst the hyperventilating, somehow I managed to work out that my lady was calling me at some unearthly time of 10am god lord! Ah, a disturbance I did not mind. Some people you will excuse anything :-) I forget about time distance between us. That's a lie actually. I have a cool watch where I can program two different times so needless to say obsessive Fee had it set before Lil Red had even left the country. So, she was off to bed and I was getting out of mine. She called me last night too. I opted to stay in last night in case she called. And call she did, having been flying for 22 hours with her lovely surgical stockings pulled all the way up to the knee. And prior to Lil Red calling I got a surprise call from Beautiful Boy who is living the high life in New York for a week. That's 3 international calls in 12 hours. I have never been so popular!
I couldn’t sleep once Lil Red had called. I was all buzzy and happy. Slightly tired but not overly so but I surprised myself by my energetic leap out of bed as I cranked up the Tiffany and did a body roll (accidently) down the stairs. This surprised me because I am so bloody lazy that all I did last night was lie on my bed fully clothed with a dressing gown and slippers on and watched hours and hours of Buffy. So lazy am I that after about 4 hours I crawled into bed, still fully clothed and went to sleep. I don’t think there is an excuse for sleeping with jeans and jumpers on unless you are wasted and have no central heating. I don’t have either of these as an excuse. I'm just lazy. I would rather go to sleep with my bra giving my fat back a wedgie and wake up in the morning with the skin having been all rubbed raw than actually make the effort to remove it prior to sleep. In fact I am so idle that it’s impossible for me to become a permanent smoker because half the time I can’t be arsed with the whole lighting up process that takes 3 seconds. I would rather site there in nicotine craving hell, sweating and agitated and shaky because it’s often just too much effort to go through the task of moving my hand and using my lungs at the same time. I know I am not the laziest person in the history of lazy-itis but I’m sure I come close. I wonder how people put up with my lardy ways. Somedays I can’t even be arsed with the whole rigmarole of making a cheese sandwich and will instead eat cheese straight from the block even though I know how good it tastes with the pickle. Maybe I am just too greedy and impatient to take the time to prepare it. I also like to torture myself. Today I refuse to be lazier than a perpetual pot smoker and will actually brush my hair (like fuck I will, have you seen how frizzy it gets?!) and I will not wear the same clothes I slept in because I can’t be arsed changing them and I may even take the time to shave my legs. Ok, we also know that that is not gonna happen cos that adds a whole 5 minutes onto shower time and hell, it’s winter, I need a bit a fur to keep me warm. Ahem. So readers, go, enjoy your day in the sun or the cold and I will think about you all when I clog up the plughole with armpit hair because no matter how lazy I get, no matter how much it hurts to dry shave because I can’t be arsed using gel or even water, my armpits will always remain hair free because the last time I got too lazy to shave them was the only day I wore a short sleeved top and gave all the ladies a view of my new perm which went down as well as a lesbo faced with a whiffy, dischargey, crusty pussy. Enjoy. Britney Wannabe
12/30/2002 11:52:00 AM
|
Adventures of Charmin |