I am a 25 year old butcheyfemme queer with rubbish on my mind and sparkles everywhere else
Are you between the ages of 33 and 43? Do you live in Aberdeen and drink in Revolution and Jumpin’ Jacks? Do you shop in GAP and Markies on your lunch break? On a Friday night, in the pub straight from work, have you been known to wear thigh chafing brown mock leather trousers? Do you have a friend/sister who also wears such skinny trousers but who looks ten times better in hers than you do? Does your hair, which is brown, fluffy and very bouffant-ic, have a tendency to get larger as the night progresses and even slip forward to give you a distinct pirate look? As you get drunker, do you find yourself harshly pronouncing certain words and trying to be the centre of attention? Again, as you get more wasted (I can’t quite remember your drink), do you find that you have trouble getting in and out of your fake animal skin trousers? Once you are as good as inebriated do you find your global bum shimmying down stairs while you throw your head back in pseudo sexiness? Do you have one gay male friend who you obviously want to ride? And have you ever had your ass prodded by the index finger of what you thought to be a girly red head? If you think this is you, Wiggy Wilma, please contact me. We only want to be your friend. Well really we want to stalk you but we haven’t seen you now in weeks and are worried that you have trimmed your wig and that now we no longer recognise you. And for the record, it wasn’t the red head who stabbed your podgy ass with her pointing finger, it was me but don’t get your chuffers again, I don’t actually want to touch your bare flesh. I just wanted to see if there was movement when your ass, which was so tightly encased in leather, was prodded. Anyway Wilma, or whatever your name is, we really would like to know more about your whereabouts so we can be proper stalkers. I hope you understand.
The freaks from the bars who can’t help but stare at you.
PS Oh and you have a mouth like a hen’s arse.
So readers, in case you are wondering what the hell I am rambling about (and not for the first time), basically we saw the most amazingly oddly large haired woman one night and since then we have seen her on a few occasions and we are on a need to know much more basis. I don’t know why. Maybe if you had met this woman she would have had a similar impact on your life. But maybe we just need something to fill the many dull hours in Aberdeen.
Anyway, do have a good weekend, mines will probably be full of traumas, such as getting ID-ed at the shite gay bar and then subsequently sweating to near BO death in said gay bar. The heat was so preposterous in that newly carpeted dump (who carpets a club?) that far too many boobless wonders were cutting around in the buff and making those fully clothed both jealous and spewy. Bu bye now.
My nail varnish - so sparkley it’s the bomb (inappropriate for foreplay however)
New Boxfresh skirt, tis also the bomb
Wensleydale and cranberry cheese
Dreaming about never working again
Pink camouflage wrapping paper
People who hint about stuff but can’t actually come out and say things
My hair that just won’t calm down
My swollen missing eyes
Sock fluff in toes
6/06/2003 10:38:00 AM
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