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


Tuesday, February 27

I watched a programme about the first gay prom in the UK this morning. It was a concept they had taken from the US and what a brilliant idea; I wish I’d been 17 to appreciate it and actually been there.

It reminded me of my ‘prom’ which was really just a bunch of 17 year olds getting wasted in a gym hall and dancing to tragic music (notably Technohead: I wanna be a hippie…). And of course the worst part of it for me was having to wear a dress which made me look like a man in drag. I finished off the look with heavy, lesbo boots and stripey tights. Say no more.

If I’d had a willing girlfriend at the time I would most certainly have taken her to the dance and spun her around the dance floor like the rest of the couples who were high on teenage love. I think at the time I was seeing a girl who lived in Cornwall and even if I had wanted her to make the 19 hour bus journey to be my partner, she wouldn’t have bothered.

I’ve never had issues about being a lesbo. I got bullied for many things at school (being a fatso, having a crap fringe, wearing tye dye etc) but I, luckily, never got any hassle for being a dyke. In fact, girls from all years were keen to try the gay thing and I was definitely a willing vessel for their experimentation.

At the dance I got very drunk on 80 shilling beer, white lightening and whatever was in Big F’s homebrew. I then attempted to inappropriately kiss someone I vaguely fancied and ended up in the toilets with the first girl I had ever kissed when I was 15. The details of what happened in that cubicle are extremely hazy but I remember spinning out from the concoctions we were drinking and almost vomiting on the girl… What an affront. I’d wanted her for years, after our brief liaison, and I finally get the chance to get close to her and I about puke all over her. Classy or what.

So yeah, should I ever get the chance re-do my lesbo youth and go to a gay prom for the over 25s then I will be first in the queue with my lady in hand, and for once, I will not have to take her to the toilet to have some time with her; I can take her home and chuck my guts all up on her instead. Yas, life with Serial Vomiter Fee is so all good.

Should I ever wear heels, this is no doubt what I would look like.