I am a 25 year old butcheyfemme queer with rubbish on my mind and sparkles everywhere else
We bounced like people who had drunk wine, cider and expensive beer and we whooped and ‘yeah yeah yeah yeahed’ like never before. The only thing missing was my lady but I jumped extra hard for the both of us.
And then we hit the gay bar for a mid week, impromptu dance. I took the straight chicks for some dancing they will not forget in a hurry. Naturally there was a podium related accident and I should remember that The Fee and podiums are not a stable combination.
We danced our way around the club with a few blasts from the past (notably Luscious L and Beautiful Boy) and generally had a fabulous time being chuffs and drinking our combined body weight in shots.
Note to self: also remember why my name is Tragic Dancerino before I get on the dancefloor.
***FLASHBACK ALERT FLASHBACK ALERT***
Belly was on show: repeatedly. No more gay dancing for me unless I have my flesh-coloured, tummy tucker pants on. What an affront.
And so I go liberate the little dead bird that has clearly died in amongst my reckless curls. Gadzeroo.
2/22/2007 01:57:00 PM
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