I am a 25 year old butcheyfemme queer with rubbish on my mind and sparkles everywhere else
Got hungover and ragey on wine
Picked up 7 dog poos, some squishy some perfectly solid
Played strip poker with Lil Red and Harry Potter cards while drinking beer and cider
Gaily laughed along as Beautiful Boy demonstrated lighting his farts
Over ate on cheese and smoothies
Bit my once beautiful nails to stumps
Didn’t tell my ma and pa about the visit from the Police
Forgot to remove my shiny disco ball from its temporary position in the garden
Got humped twice by my dog
Watched half of Basketball Diaries and all of Too Wong Foo
Didn’t get paid
Washed my hair, realising it had been too long since I last did so
Cleaned sausage fat from my grill. Cheers carnivores
Watched bad lesbo porn and cringed, and the rest
Listened to The Matrix and my J Bo special 80s tape on repeat
Discovered I had real BO
Thought about leaving the house
Scrubbed puke out of my sleeping bag. Thanks Babs.
Had two nice days with Lil Red
Got depressed cos I want a house of my own
Read some of Disco Bloodbath and laughed out loud repeatedly
Pissed about 6 people off including my parents who have been home a half hour
Had a dream about threesomes with Lil Red, myself and Beautiful Boy
Was subsequently sick
Packed up my paddling pool for yet another year
Ate 6 veggie burgers and complained about my large gut
Woke up to the best cuddles
Worried about the heat in NY and contemplated short trousers for a brief second
Wondered why people go to the circus
Adorned massive glasses and looked like a prick
Got too involved in the Angry Anderson song: Suddenly.
Remembered the Scott and Charlene days and wished I was a mechanic
Got jealous cos Lil Red got a J Bo lap dance
Removed the worm that slipped into my flip flops and in between my hairy toes
Realised that I really really need a life
And so I go to try and find that life that I so desperately require. I may be sometime.
Listening to: Angry Anderson: Suddenly. Yes still.
7/31/2003 02:02:00 PM
I want to talk about GAP. That’s GAP clothing, not gap in tooth, gap in gaping or gap between the door and the platform. My issue is not with child labour, I leave that to Amnesty International. However, my issue is equally moralistic. Really. I am concerned about the fact that GAP are almost solely responsible for the widespread distribution and wear of chinos.
Chinos: trousers made of a durable cotton twill cloth.
Fuck. These Grandad trousers even warrant a dictionary entry. GAP chinos are always colourless, tapered and half mast yet a huge proportion of the male population are cutting around in these bad boys which are nearly always teamed with deck shoes with massive bows or brown tightly pulled boots which are about as cool as ring sting. For the top half, when wearing chinos, you will find men in a classic baseball tee, tucked in polo shirt or highly buttoned shirt, long or short sleeved, usually badly patterned. I just don’t get it. Is there a need for such a huge fashion faux pas that is seemingly performed worldwide? Should GAP be allowed to contribute to the demise of the half decently dressed man, just when straight men were beginning to evolve into the gay man’s way of dressing so well? Should child poverty be the only thing that Amnesty International campaign about with placards outside GAP? The answer to both these questions is a resounding NO. Please for the good of mankind the world over will you ditch this maybe once was cool in 1956 design of trousers? Or if you really must insist on packing your stores full of them, could you re-design them? How about a black pair with a little bootcut that flatters your shape a little? How about a trouser length that actually fits over your brown boot? How about a little less of the brown boot? Just please, no more beige and khaki chinos because I can’t take it no more. Men’s asses should be encased in tapered trousers as often as women’s should. Never. People would do well to remember that.
And so I go to do that thing I really shouldn’t. You should try it sometime. You just may like it.
Oh and here’s a random thought for this day of pure annoyance. You manage to offend a ‘friend’ when you are drunk. Another friend manages to offend the same person minutes later. The doubly offended person then decides to stop talking altogether to the original offender yet not the second offender, using claims of ‘drunk’ in the second offenders defence, despite the fact that the offended person sent the original offender a message the following morning ackowleging how drunk the original offender was but yet will not talk to the original offender again. The offended person then goes on to claim to others how mad he/she is at the second offender but yet will not fall out with the second offender and STILL wont talk to the original offender. So the second offender is permitted to make drunken insults but the original offender is thrown aside like a piece of the offended person’s shite. A definite case of double standards and sadly, burnt bridges. Confused? Confuddled? Yeah, me too.
Fucked if I know of any.
Everything about this whole issue
The hypocrisy of some people
The fuckin builders next door
7/29/2003 03:07:00 PM
And so it was over and I was faced with four stunningly puffy eyed individuals the following morning where the discussion over fat pork sausages was once again, oblong turds, squishy poops and unsafe farts. Everytime.
Oh well today, in the blurry haze of a two day hangover where my hair looks mega backcombed and I can still smell the BBQ remnants in my nostrils, I now must scrape the bits of feet that people seem to have engrained into everything, from the lino, to the chairs to my mothers shoes. Cheers for that.
Have a good day. I know me, all dry skinned, shaky hands and swollen eyes certainly will not.
Two weeks till NY. Sex
Photo phones… See stunningly unclear photo under blog description
Clark Shoes adverts
My Lil Red, so pretty
The morning after the night before
The tomato ketchup lingering in my hair which seems to be unshiftable
My scabby lips which are disintegrating by the second
People’s inability to take a fuckin’ joke.
Neighbours with attitude
7/28/2003 12:27:00 PM
1. If your life were a movie, what would the title be?
Life of a Britney Geek: The Lesbo Years
2. What songs would be on the soundtrack?
Britney: Stronger - for those 'dumped' times
Beyonce: Crazy in Love - for those not so 'dumped' times
Flashdance - for teh getting up in the morning scenes
Alcazar: crying at the discoteque - for all those drunken traumas
Mirwais: Naive song - cos I never see what's happening in front of me
Garbage: I think I'm paranoid
Dana International: Diva - The early gay club days
Haddaway: What is love - the lovestruck teenage years spent spinning round lonely pining for The Bitch at the rink
Enrique: escape - shucks
Scooter: that song, for The Bo
Dido: take my hand - for when I skip off into the sunset at the end
3. Would it be a live-action film or animated? Why?
It would be live action because I don't think you could appreciate the full extent of our stupidity in cartoon form. Traumas need live people, not animated figures. All the Dirty Dancing lifts gone wrong, all the piggy back racing, all the tears and all the rest of the shit that goes with us. Trust me, you need live action for that. Oh and also for all the lesbo action. yeah right.
4. Casting: who would play you, members of your family, friends, etc?
well of course I would be Drew Barrymore and I would so be dating Alyson Hannigan (purr, my Lil Red). The Queen of Fun would be played by Samantha Mumba (don't ask) and she would date the real life Jordan (sorry Gyspey Frills Anon...) who would then get dumped for Kate Winslot (there you go Gypsy...). My poofs would be played by beautiful people, perhaps Orlando Bloom, Johnny Depp, Leonardo and maybe David Boraneaz. J Bo would be played by Angelina Jolie and would go gay for the film (hello it's MY life) and do Eliza Dusku while watched by me and Alyson. And Bobby, well I guess I would have you as Nan King. No kitty butlers allowed thank you.
5. Describe the movie preview/trailer.
You'd get a snap shot of a party with us all there, thrity years on. We'd all be smooching and confessing undying love for each other. There would be a bouncy castle that we'd probably all eventually have an orgy on and there would be a tantrum or five, a big bust up and then we'd be back to the smooching. A typical Friday night from 5pm to 6pm. This would be the climax of my life. Sad huh? You'd have to then see how I got there. It would be pretty unpleasant. The hair styles would be vile, the clothing vomitous and my self-set trends monstrously disgusting. You'd close your eyes for most of it, afraid of what hair accessories or how much tye dye you may see. Yeah, this movie would go straight to TV I'm sure. Although, maybe I'd throw in a lesbo sex scene to entice anybody to actually watch it. Not with Jordan though. And she is only hired as a favour to The Queen and because she is cheaper than Bargain Books.
7/25/2003 04:18:00 PM
your girl comes to stay when your folks are out of town and she is still there at the end of the time despite having witnessed you in roles that she certainly does not lie back and fantasize over.
She sees me take on this oddly, often vile, role of domesticity and witnesses some grotesque scenes she could not have thought possible of The Fee and yet, 6 days on she is still here, with the cuddles, the kisses and most of all, the adoration of someone who will allow no dog turd to spoil what we have.
I mean, I love our romantic quad daily dog walks. Just the two of us strolling hand in hand through the park with the dogs skipping around our feet, with the sun streaming through the trees, making our little gay faces glowy. But just as we are just getting lost within this picturesque, from-a-book scene we are faced with my beautiful fluffy white dog taking a huge stool right in front of us, straining and grunting with all his little might to force out the mother of all turds. I could lean and kiss her so she doesn’t see this so the moment will not be spoiled but alas, there is no hiding the fact I then have to go hunt the poop, which is always about 600 leaves down, and retrieve it with a probably holey plastic bag and grapple at the monster poop/leave/mud concoction with two hands to even get it into the cheap carrier bag and then march off to the poop bin which is smellier-than-an-alcohol-shite infested toilet. Yeah, there really is no hiding that. So dignified. But yet she still loves me. Even when there is diarrhoea, after a hard day of eating from discarded cartons and inedible plants and I could sieve it quite easily pre pick-up, she still cares. Even when my polite dog steps into the middle of the road for his after dinner poop which I must subsequently scrape from the cobbles whilst a queue of waiting cars blast their horns and wave fat fists at me, she still loves me. Has her love been blinded by too much dog poop?
Anyway, I’m having a fabulous time, going on pooh patrol, eating enough smoothies give myself soft poo for eternity and reading endlessly. And of course getting to spend some quality (for me at least) time with my girl without the interruptions that are usually so prevalent for us is quite wonderful. And what’s more, it’s less than 3 weeks till I fly high and head NY. Life is still fabulous though very much poop tainted.
Solid poops which are easily handled
Poops done in the discretion on the woods
The invisible poop
Poos which do not break the bag
The odourless shite
Mushy poops which require more than one holey bag
The wet poos that slip through the bag
Twig filled poops that rip the bag
Poops underfoot when flip flops are worn
Jobbies caught in your turn up
And so today is definitely a day for whatever this may have in store
7/23/2003 04:27:00 PM
And so I go to consider the shorts. Doubt it. It feels ground-breaking that I am even sitting here in ¾ length trousers with my large ankles a bit too visibly on show. Ick. Sweat drippin on keyboard is not a good look for anyone. Damn you sun. Get inside where you belong Miss Fee.
The Spell – Alan Hollinghurst
New York being only 3 weeks away
Garden Parties minus the beasts
Having a job!
Having to do work today when I so can’t be arsed
Smoothie hangover. Not good for the ass all that fruit.
My curly hair. Damn the humidity.
Over heating laptops
Fuck it, no more, am actually happy.
7/21/2003 02:58:00 PM
Did you have a good weekend? Mine's involved heavy panting, heavy pants, heavy petting and heavy pets.
See you when I am a fully graduated prick as opposed to a fully undergraduated prick.
And if you can be arsed, recommend me a good book. Something funny would be swell.
The return of Bunnie
The fact I have a job interview
Boys in kilts
Girls in tiny kilts
My girl in anything
The fact I have a job interview for a job I wont get
Her, yes her across from me that is snifflin' and munchin on cough sweets so fuckin loudly that despite the booming 'house' in my ears I can still hear her.
The damn faulty zipper on my trousers and wearing lightly coloured pants. Not a good look
The sweat brought on my too tight shirts
Tapered fuckin jeans. How many times do I need to tell you people?
Oh and I just discovered a picture of me from that friends reunited site. Buggered if I know why but have a look if you want. It's very blurry (shite scanner resolution perhaps? or the reluctance to put the faces of us inbreeds up clearly for the whole world to see?) I am in the third row, five from the left as you look at the picture. I am a blurry featureless mass. Sick.
See far-too long haired Fee as she pretty much still looks today.
7/15/2003 12:04:00 PM
Okay, I have completed one thing on my list. Last night I was dragged by my stupidly wavy hair to see Wrong Turn, my first cinema scary movie. I was very reluctant to see it in such a public atmosphere but the only thing that made it bearable was this:
Well almost bearable. I walked into the cinema and the film had begun and all I could see was blood and all I could hear was screaming and I turned round and walked out again. My friends passed this scene I had just witnessed off as a trailer and took hold of my arms and pulled me in. I selected a seat so near the front that in order to see the screen I had to get a severe bout of neck strain but I had to ensure I was close enough to the door should this prove too much for my delicate little mind. I thought with Eliza Dushku looking hotter than I have ever seen her look that I would be able to watch in a horny daze but sadly with the neck slitting and the body butchering my eyes remained clasped shut almost throughout. It was comforting to be able to snuggle into my girl as we both averted our eyes to the beastlyness. I did provide much entertainment to the poofs who were more shocked at my inability to eat all the popcorn than they were at my reluctance to open my balled up eyes. I felt their wide eyes on me and heard their sniggering with my every wince but I was fucking shittin myself. Just as well I had on that maxi pad I tell you. I left to go to the toilet at the moment the wingey bitch got decapitated so that was fine, except I was then subjected to a detailed account of this by the thoroughly amused gay lords. I think it only lasted about an hour but it felt like a full on eternity in hell. Clammy paws and white faced I left the cinema to the cackles of 'that was so not scary Fee, you have to see another'. Doubt it. That was enough to nearly bring on anal leakage so there is absolutely no way on this earth (hot girl and snuggles or not) I will watch another. I now recognise that I am missing absolutely nothing by not watching these films. I don't care about the emotions it instills in me, these are emotions I could quite well do without but I feel good about having forced myself to do this because I didn't think I could. Neither did anyone else. But fuck, the dreams I had last night reminded me of why I need not pollute my mind with this kind of freak show.
Nevermind, I'm sure going upside down on a roller coaster could not feel this bad? Look out Coney Island here comes blubber.
Meeting people you have not seen in ages
Eliza Dushku (hello who doesn't like this lil minx)
Hugs from my girl
Two-hour lunches (isn;t that what publishing is all about?)
Bitten down nails due to film stress
My forehead looking larger than my tv monitor today
'no space for new messages'
The fact I have again succeeded in doing no work
Graduation day looming
7/11/2003 03:34:00 PM
My new sticker camera
The sun when it doesn't make me sweat like a crab in a nun's fanny
Feeling better today than I have in too long
Charlies Angels: full throtle. Totty town
Liquid nail foil. Posh term for nail varnish
How old people twirl their keys around their fingers for the duration of their bus journey
People breathing too loudly too closely to my neck
The wind that follows eating pea soup
Having no motivation to do work
7/09/2003 12:18:00 PM
Anyway, as I go contemplate if I can get away with only dipping my slender wrists in the water I will tell you that I just about had another near accident with the belt. Will buy skinners in future to ensure that no belt is required as my ass will keep them up of its own accord.
My pink and camouflage shopper, gonna get it mounted on wheels and drag it around when I am old[er]
Home Alone 2
Fingers (not just for nail varnish you know)
My beautifully co-ordinated outfit
Having to wait another 5 weeks 4 days til NYC
Being completely neurotic about everything
French manicured toes nails. Doubt it
7/04/2003 12:17:00 PM
Adventures of Charmin
Ariel Pay it Forward
Come to the Dark Side...
Dirty Little Homos
Fash Mag Slag
Het (aka Quickfit)
Hit the Jag Spot...
Knee Deep In It...
Life and Times of a Desperado
On Top of the World>