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


Monday, October 25

Glasgow was fully fabulous. Two big haired lesbos and a hungover Bo were packed into the back of the Queen of Fun's car like socks down pants and needless to say, much hilarity ensued, particularly when a J Bo recounted her oblong turd story for the 800th time with even more added emotion than usual. I love the travelling part of going anywhere. Even though getting on trains brings me out in fanny rashes because I get so wound up at the prospect of a trauma, it's always so damn funny. Even if an outing with us lot is like being out with a bunch of kids who have been let out without their parents for the first time ever. We really do not know how to behave in public. This time thankfully all I had to worry about travelling wise was not gasing everyone to death in a very small enclosed space after I'd eaten a spicy tea or squashing anyone to a bloody pulp with my over large ass which was not designed for tiny spaces.

So there was moi, my Lil Red whose birthday it was, J Bo (a River City extra), Queen of Fun whose hair is so long she tucks it into her thong, Triple S (Super Sexy S) who has boar issues and of course The Beast. What trip would be complete without a hairy backside and our best friend? I wouldn't quite say we are a bunch of social retards thrown together out of convenience but we are so completely mismatched and we manage to have the best times when we hang out. The only disappointment this time around was that we never got to shake our asses in the gay bar. For no good reason there were 7000 people crammed into a bar meant for 1000. The queue for the toilet was so long that we resorted to pissing in paper cups and tossing them forward into the crowd who were grateful of the refreshement, however warm it may have been. It was fully ridiculous. There is no way you could have even side stepped on that dancefloor and for the sake of my mental health we had to avoid it completely because I get so wound up when gay boys and their fag hags swing each other around in confined spaces, sending you flying and drowning you in their juices. Vile.

I did spend a good deal of time watching my girlfriend get touched up by a pair of creepy lesbos who shall remain anonymous (you're totally not getting that money back now, Queen) but hey, Lil Red didn't seem to mind, or notice. Not that she was capable of noticing much after the amount of vodka I plyed her with...

Anyway, after making space in the digital camera and charging the batteries for a full day, I forgot to take it with me and have not one single photo, not even a Bo double chin, to post. Durr, Fee.

And so I go, prepare my monstrous locks for bed, i.e by attaching small cars to the end in order to make the hair go down and not out. What a girl must do for straight hair when her girlfriend has taken the miracle straightners out of her hands for 5 whole days. Doubt it.