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

Mail Me

Currently Reading:

The Outsider - A Camus

Choke - C Palahnuik


Thursday, January 6

I have well and truly recovered from New Year, almost. I just got the ingrained smell of pee out of my right cheek only a few hours ago. I had to sandpaper my skin because no matter how much scrubbing and bleaching I did on my now flacid cheek, the stench of man pee just would just not leave.

I had a fully fabulous time, of course winning every high kick competition going and dancing like a popper fuelled fanny (without the 8 month old liquid gold however) but as soon as 3 o clock hit, Hyper Fee became Very Ill Vomitting Tar Fee. I passed out in our toilet for about two hours and that is when I awoke to the stink of piddle on my face. Did a man pee over me while I was vomitting? It was definlety man pee, don't ask how I know, I just do. Whatever happened, the smell of Jack Daniels tinged urine has only just left me, though if I breath sharply in through my nostrils I swear I still get a whiff.

I have to say that despite my severe debilitating puking which left me unable to move or eat for days (of course being that I am the Queen of Exaggeration you'll understand that this means one day), this was without a doubt my best new year. I got to kiss my girl at new year (see 2002's new year entry to undertand my issue) and all but one of my best friends were there to share in the festivities and vodka and twatty dancing. The hangover was well and truly worth it, though I would like to thank the skanky lesbos (you so know who you are) for distributing their finest dykey germs my way because now I'm so close to having the flu it hurts.

And so I go slurp on asparagus soap like an over eager lesbo with a runny nose. Nice.