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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The Outsider - A Camus

Choke - C Palahnuik


Friday, September 10

I’ve been kissing girls now for ten years, very closely to the day. I remember my first kiss with a girl as it were just yesterday. For years I had been wondering what all the fuss about kissing was, feeling nothing but revulsion after smooching with rough teens or acne ridden prepubescent boys. And then I met her. She was a year younger than me and I befriended her after I heard a rumour something had happened with her and another girl although the details were murky. I sat in her living room one day, in my massive tye-dye jacket and told her via a sad note that I liked girls. I had hoped she’d jump on my lap and yell me too and kiss me there and then. She told me it was probably just a phase and that was it. Months later, after my obsession with her had fully burgeoned, the two of us headed to the river with our cheap cider to get drunk. One bottle was more than enough for me and I was drunk within 20 minutes. I don’t know exactly what happened, just that I was speaking a lot of teenage drivel one minute and the next she was kissing me. It was so nothing like kissing all those sweaty, wandering hands boys. I actually felt something that wasn’t disgust. It was fully fabulous. It was 1994 and after the kiss I was so happy that we skipped around holding hands singing bloody Saturday Night by that cheap euro slag Whigfield. Quite shocking for the Courtney Love wannabe standing there kissing girls with her Cypress Hill tshirt on.

I thought she’d be my girlfriend after that but instead she told someone else, made me physically ill and would sometimes get around to kissing me at random times throughout the following 2 years. It was mad. But it opened up this whole new world of girl kissing for me.

I was so sad and so consumed with my new lesbo status that I used to keep a list of all those I’d kissed. I can barely remember any of them anymore, bar the ones I vaguely dated and they are the ones I wish I could forget about. I kissed the girl from school who was 4 years older and a legend for having stalked the PE teacher. I kissed a butch’s femme girlfriend at New Year while she was pissing down on alley. I kissed a woman old enough to be my mum because she had her lip pierced. I kissed a bunch of my friends who were eager to kiss a girl and my mouth was only happy to be this learning vessel. And then there was my male friend’s girlfriend who ‘wouldn’t kick me out of bed for farting’ (oh please) and who thought she would leave him for me. She never did but now has 2 kids and am pleased to say I fathered none of these.

Kissing is a funny thing. I probably fancied about a 10th of the people I have kissed and it’s so personal and weird going around kissing strangers. Should you really be swapping saliva, ulcers, glandular fever, with people you barely know? Is it not kind of gross? The amount of boys I kissed once I was de-squared is more than treble the amount of ladies I’ve locked lips with and that’s pretty disturbing. I blame the New Year street parties where the aim is to cram in as many kisses with strangers as possible in about 5 hours. It doesn’t matter how disgusting the person as long as you leave your options open so you can score more than your friends. The New Year street party I’m sure was responsible for that bout glandular fever that was rife in the early nineties. And let’s not even talk about the cold sores.

There ‘s only one person I’ll be kissing anymore so I guess I need not worry about whether I’ve flossed and whether I’ll be passing on my rotten germs to half the lesbo community. As soon as I kissed Lil Red in that door way (classy as we are) I knew my days of random kissing were well and truly over :-)

Anyway, I’m off to do something about these vile nails which are so ugly of late. I may also attempt to revive my 18 year old straightners which come complete with crimpers my god because my special GHD straightners (the ultimate accessory for any girl with a puff to their hair) have died. It’s tragic and I’m only glad I have not left the house in days because birds will be setting up home in this jumbo do as soon as I do.