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


Saturday, October 1

Sexy G was slapped around his gin-contorted face with someone else's vibrating, jelly dong, complete with suction cup at the weekend. It wasn't a horrifc, cheese-induced nightmare, it was the reality of getting high on poppers (so common, I know) and twatted on vodka the night before a bank holiday Monday. It's just SO wrong. let's hope it was clean.

Apparently the rest of us were involved in some sort of 'piley-on' and there were wedgies in abundance but sadly (or make that, thankfully) my memory of this is as clear as my sight in the morning. I remember up to about the 6th vodka and I remember post what was probably the 12th or 13th but anything inbetween is more fuzzy than the contents of my fruit bowl three weeks after purchase. I know I was in the gay bar, albeit very briefly and I know I was being common and sniffing poppers on the dancefloor but then it seemed to fit with the clintele of the club that night, bank holiday Mondays really bring out a worse class of mink. Gaylords that haven't been out in months/years/decades were throwing it about on the dancefloor like they were far too cool for school when really they were about as hot as snot. I think it's the lure of the podium that brings these creeps out... Who wouldn't want to shake it about 6ft of the ground to shite music, surrounded by turdy people? Anyway, what I do know is that after an inordinate amount of paintstripper, I probably looked and acted far worse than any of them in their spit-through T shirts and ill-fitting jeans. We lasted about a half hour before we could take the it no more and left to get started on by a total bint in a fanny revealing skirt for no apparent reason. Oh the joys.

Anyway, it would also appear that I missed Aberdeen's Lesbo Event of the month on Wednesday - Joan Armatrading (ignorantly I know only 'Drop the Pilot')played at the Music Hall to what I'm told was a crowd of very middle-aged lesbos sporting the customary, elevated, furry, grey haircut, tapered jeans (often stonewashed) complete with varying shapes, sizes and styles of black leather jacket. It would appear the black leather jacket is the new lesbian fashion must have. Box-cut, mid-thigh length, shoulder padded, massive lapels, printed picture on the back, faded - it doesn't matter, as long as you've got one. It doesn't even matter that you borrowed it off your over large or under-eating girlfriend, it doesn't need to fit, as long as you have one and wear it with pride. I'm off to Marks and Spencers to get me one with fringe. Somebody stop me.

And so I go drop a pilot of my very own after a grossly oversized portion of beans and veggie sausages.

Today's LIkes

Sarah Waters - The Night Watch - nearing fruition however
Mint Royale
My fabulous puppies
Eye cream - die bags die
Having won 2 Rita Mae Brown books on ebay

Today's Dislikes

Still vomiting at 6pm, the day after the jelly dong incident, oh the pain, oh the bile
Not getting to see Moby tonight as part of Radio 2 live in Aberdeen - so well publicised...
Walking up hill, there's just no need
The return of Westlife, what's that about?
Janice Battersby's new hair cut - what on earth?