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


Wednesday, March 9

London was fully rockin'. Not only did I manage to spend more money than I have but I also managed to eat my way through the city, three times over. All the hot new clothes I bought cannot be worn due to yet another added belly and I cannot even don my new shoes (two very hot pairs of trainers) because the lesbo has a limp. Too much shopping, too much dancing and too much stumbling around when wasted has lead to my new gammy-leg status. It's not pretty. However, I think my finest London moment was when, unbeknownst to me, I sat on something resembling a very large and very mushy bean (later revealed to be pizza) and danced around in a very shite gay bar (G.A.Y Bar) with the food growth hanging off my butt like an alien form. Only after two hours of drinking and a tube journey home did anyone from my party notice my cling on. No doubt people from other parties noticed it hours ago. Smart. My new nickname is Bean Bum by the way.

Disappointingly, the only 'celebs' (using the term more loosely than a promiscuous poof's arsehole) we spotted were Brian Dowling and the gay one from Phixx. Brian Dowling was impossible to miss (clearly his intention) with his fat head and exceedingly loud twattish 'I love Me' voice. Andrew from Phixx however seemed to blend in with the crowd although was pretty damn hot. I even thought he was checking out my butt at one point. It wasn't till after I got off the tube and calls of 'Bean Bum' were thrown my way did I realise what he was actually gawking at. Doubt it.

We did go to the lesbo Candy Bar and lasted all of 1 drink because of the sheer cliqueness of the place. And pints were back on tap. We didn't find any bar that was overly satisfying. I found them to be either overrun with screaming queens shoulder dancing to camp crap or they were full of ugly fag hags with bad shoes. Maybe I just wasn't drunk enough.

We went to G.A.Y on Saturday night and danced like lesbos on heat. Apart from losing the will to live after a visit to the toilets and almost losing an eye to the over zealous elbows that were flying my way (for once not my own) we had a totally fabulous time and I really didn't mean to fall asleep in the dodgy mini cab and leave a full patch of drunken drool both in the cab and on Lil Red's shoulder. Every girl should have a lesbo like me in their lives.

All in all, I can just about deal with my slight limp and my extra belly because we had the best time ever. However, no money in this world will make me ever live in London and have to deal with the stress of pub[l]ic transport every single day. The tube is really not good for a person of a nervous (and very irritable) disposition. Especially not when a large, sweaty man is eating a beefy pie in your face.

And so I go inhale the deep heat and satisfy my new belly.

Today's Likes

Our fabulous hotel, across from Harvey Nicks, only good for the food hall though.
My new black and pink sneakers, complete with pink skulls. Hot.
Our matching(ish) hot Storm rings.
Party time coming up on Friday
The giantest pizzas in the world but still, always room for more. Don't ask me how.

Today's Dislikes

Being utterly underdressed for the hotel we stayed in.
The serial smoochers on the tube. Get a room.
People eating anything in as confined a space as an underground carriage.
Sneering lesbos.
Getting dissed in gay bars, at the bar, for not having a schlong.