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


My 100 Things

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Currently Reading:

The Outsider - A Camus

Choke - C Palahnuik


Friday, October 17

I just wrote a rather inspired entry about how lesbians have apparently been leaving their turds in odd places in one of our two (woo fuckin hoo) gay bars and as I'm finishing off, as smug as a freshly laid school boy virgin for having actualy written an entry, it disappears. Not so smug now eh? So now I can't be bothered to divulge the delicious tale of the lesbo freaks who turd in pint glasses and on the floor and all over the toilet seats in a certain gay bar. Oh I just did but without most of the utterly vile details of these sick creatures which you probably should b glad of cause the stories I heard and subsequently shared with you dear reader[s] were stomach churning at best. Enough. D.I.Y enemas? On the floor of a public toilet? Come on, don;t you people have roll of your own?

I also told you that I have found a way to hopefully blog more often. My lack of blogging badness has been caused by my lack of internet connection. I only have access to email via my TV and am trying this email to blog thing. If you are reading this, sorry it worked. So, I apologise to those of you, in particular Ariel and Charmin and The Gobby One who may have missed my shite and I also apologise to those who hoped I had given up, I'm afraid not so you must b subject to the drivel of Miss Fee once more.

Anyway, I'm off to not proof read this for fear of erasing this crap once again while eating cheese, cheese and cheese and thinking about where th cheese is going to go. The only place left is my ankles. Is fat distibution ever sensible?

Today's Likes

You who still visit glitterqueer
Electric 6
Inkheart by Cornelia Funke
Feet that dont smell worse than the cheese I am devouring
Domestic bliss

Today's Dislikes

Lesbos who leave jobbies in places other than where they belong
Gays who steal books from my section
Home alone on friday night
That bread. Yes that bread that's walking around in the kitchen of it's own accord.