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


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Currently Reading:

The Outsider - A Camus

Choke - C Palahnuik


Thursday, September 9

In the hours leading up to my current state last Wednesday evening/early Thursday morning, we decided that we could not possibly come to Ibiza and not go to one of the big showy clubs. We decided on Eden because they were hosting a Ministry of Sound night, with Howard Donald (ex Take That) on the decks. We’ve got all the Annuals, we listen to the appropriate radio stations regularly so we know all the music associated with Ministry so even if the club was shite we’d at least get a dance. Of course we didn’t expect it to be shit. We expected big things. Hot podium dancers, fabulous tunes, cool people appreciating the atmosphere and of course a pleasing vibe. Helped along the way by some red vodka and red bull we headed to the Es Paradis pre-club bar. All three of us took one sip of the 7 Euro vodkas and either nearly vomited, passed out or dribbled it back into the glass. I don’t know what was up with that drink but it left us with a taste of turd in our mouths and the desire to leave as soon as possible. Walking into Eden we were pretty excited. We’d even gotten really cheap tickets and would just be able to afford one drink inside.

Obviously nobody warned us that walking into Eden we’d be stepping back to 1990. Everywhere we turned there were tapered jeans and massive bright white trainers in abundance. I was clearly the oldest girl there by about 2 decades and could only watch on in disbelief at the 10 year old girls attempting a groove in their unfilled bikinis. If the boys were not in their classic tapers then still in their huge trainers they wore ¾ length trousers, badly. It was quite a spectacular sight and I totally felt I was an extra on a Take That video, all ill-fitting clothes and puffy hair.

Speaking of Take That, of course let’s not forget Howard Donald thinking he was well smart posing for photos yet never actually acknowledging the presence of his pubeless admirers. I don’t know what music he was playing exactly but for the entire time we were there we recognised precisely no tunes. It was all a mass of unfamiliar crap and we wondered if he was playing unknown music to make himself look fabulous. Probably. All the neds and the geeks were so twatted that the shite music didn’t phase them. It’s the only time the three of us were all in agreement that we actually wanted some drugs. The only way this would have been bareable would have been if we’d been high on some chemical cocktail I know nothing about.

And don’t even get me started on the lacklustre podium dancers. I’ve never seen such a pathetic effort. They girl near us clearly had new 9” heels on and was familiar in them as she was with dancing. There was absolutely no gyrating, no rhythm and no stamina on these podiums. It was shameful. The teeny tit crew could have done a better job although they would have had no boobies to shoogle.

I don’t know if all the other clubs would have attracted the same ultra youthful clientele but it was so disappointing. All we wanted was a boogie and all we got was a smarmy DJ with too much hair spinning undistinguished tunes to the grateful audience of wasted titless tots. Truly vile.

And so I go attempt to wash this unkempt hair and make myself a bit more presentable for the return of the nurse.

Today’s Likes

Hallucinating Foucault by Patricia Duncker
My new pink, blue and sparkley tongue stud that almost choked me
Lorraine Kelly, This Morning needs you
Flat pepsi, surprisingly good
Other People’s Blogs

Today’s Dislikes

Waiting for Sky installation a week too early :-(
Having been sat around in my pyjamas now for almost a week and smelling accordingly
My staple diet of dry toast and plain crisps
The departure of my nurse to go to work
The stench of ill Fee that’s lingering around the entire house