Pridepridepride.

These past 2 weeks have been amazing. We've had a free house every night; alcohol & weed taking over our systems; truth or dare more times than you could imagine; the police harrassing us more than they ever should; people deciding they're gay, when they blatently know they aren't. Anyway, all i'm trying to say is, it's been a messy one. Even messier than the girl from lady Gaga's - Dancing in the dark.
I've decided, i'm on a alcohol free 2 weeks (i don't know if it's an achievable goal, but i'll try my best) until Pride comes along & sweeps me off my feet. It's probably going to be one of my last events before i go to Uni 'cause i'm gonna be completely skint after it, but then again, i could just be an utter knob & open up another overdraft. :)

Manchester pride tickets are purchased.
My house will be freeee.
My palms will be crossed with silver.
My body will be highly intoxicated.
My Lungs & Liver will be getting abused.
My friends will be carrying me home.
& i can't actually wait for it. <3

Fuck me.

I've not blogged in quite a while; Over a week anyway.
I've been a busy lady, but i feel the need to write it all down, so this is probably going to be a long one, unless i get half way through and decide everything i've wrote is complete shit.
I just thought i'd start by saying how devostated i am to find that i have a massive 86 mutual friends with my mum on Facebook. I don't understand Facebook, i've got over 500 friends in common with my best friend; i didn't even think i knew 500 people. Bewildered Duff.
Today i spent my day doing sweet fuck all. I just mope round the house half naked, winding people up and making a mess. My mum, or Lynduff as i like to call her, barged into my room at around 12ish asking my why my bed weren't made. I explained to her that it was probably because i was still in it, and didn't plan on moving for a good few hours.
I went to watch Psychic Sally tonight in Southport; Lauren was right, she's bollox!
Alright, she would of been good if she'd of came to me, but she never, so she's shit.
One of my best friends actually died on the stage she was on tonight. Kelsey could of cartwheeled her way past her and she would of been totally oblivious. All she kept saying was, "Thomas, i've got a Thomas. A Thomas, he might not have passed over yet.." Well i know for a fact i have several Thomas' in my family. Several dead Thomas' too, so that's a load of shit Sally, you bullshitting bitch.
I was actually contemplating standing up and saying, "OIIIIII, what about me fatty?" But i assumed i'd get kicked out, and i weren't up for standing outside in the wind, so i just suffered in silence instead.
On the way home, my Gay aunty swore that one time she did psychic tea leaves and a picture of her childhood dog appeared in the cup. She also told me that my dad used to go to Gay bars. She actually chats so much shit, she's so gullible it's unbelievable. :')
We've started a new thing too. She's Gaynor, and i'm Lesley. It's pretty amusing when nobody knows what the fuuuuuuck we're on about. I enjoyed family time though, it was nice.
In other news, i came out to another one of my friends yesterday. She was telling me that Lydia, some random girl, thought i was 'fit', and we were talking about going to Manchester's Gay Village sometime this month. We're going on the 14th and i cannot actually wait to get out of Skelmersdale for a night. I just randomly came out with it anyway, "Oh, i'm not straight me you know!"
I think she already knew, 'cause she didn't seem suprised at all. I obsess about Lily Loveless on a daily basis, i don't think anyone could think i was straight to be quite honest.

Oooooooooh, i got a letter of Goldsmiths today. It was about my accommodation. Mhmmm, i've got the one i wanted, thank fuck for that. :) HELLO ENSUITE! Cannot be fucked with complete randomers throwing up in my bathroom all night long. Ahhh, hello debt.
Anyway, there's completely no point in what i'm writing now, i've changed the subject too many times. It's an effortless load of jibber jabber.
I'm going to stop being a wanker and come back when i've got something productive to write about.
Bye bye, Blog.

My Hero.

Ever since i was a young child, it's been drilled into me that Gay is wrong.
Gay is bad, and if you're Gay there's not really much hope for you.
My Mum would deny all of this, and say i'm being pathetic, but between my Mum, Dad and Grandad especially, i've not been taught that i can be who i want to be. I've basically been taught how to make everybody else happy, but i'm pretty sick of doing that.
Today i spent the day at my Aunty's house. I shouldn't really say Aunty - she's more like my Sister.
Since the day i was born, she's always wanted me as her daughter, she tells me often enough. She spent most of her teenage years babysitting me. We were glued at the hip and i loved it. :)
Sometimes i wish she was my Mum, i know how awful that must sound, and i do love my Mum, but things would be alot easier if it was the case.
She's completely and utterly gay you see; she's my hero.
I've already told her i'm gay. It was pretty hard to tell her, but i stuttered my way through it because i trust her with my life. Everytime i go round, we get back onto the conversation of how the fuck i'm going to tell my dad. It's simple really, i just don't tell him.
She loves asking me how i realised i was gay - she asks this one everytime without fail.
She says it with a smurk on her face, the type of smurk you'd have if someone pulled 10 packs of strawberry laces out of their pockets. Unfortunately i didn't have any laces, she actually just loves hearing about it, i don't know why.
There's really nothing to tell. I pretty much fell in love with my best friend, then i kissed a girl and i liked it.
Her Girlfriend cest tres butch. It's cute.
They're so happy and i've never seen anything so normal in all my life. They're best friends, lovers, and everything more. I don't see how people can judge such a happy pair? Sometimes people get carried away, making Lesbians sound like diseased monsters, who're out to fuck everything and everyone up. This annoys me a hell of a lot!
I love their company so much, partly because they find me hilairious, they laugh at everything i say, which means i'm always welcome. Also partly because i can just be everything i want to be around them and they'd accept it. I could probably smother their brand new carpets that they keep ranting on about, in horse shit, and they would still continue to smile at me.
They live in a typical semi detached house, drive a typical family car, work like everyone else and have 6 extremely happy and beautiful children between them, so whats all the fuss about? There's actually fuck all to fuss about.
I'm so proud to have her as an Aunty. She's so fucking cool! She's always trying to get me drunk, and constantly shoving fags in my mouth!
All i can say is, if my life ends up as good as hers, and i end up half as happy as she is, i'll be pretty fucking content with my life.
:)

Flop your Gaydar out.

There's only one person in the world who has tracked me down good and propper.
Shanice's mum. Fuck knows she knew this, she must have one crackin' Gaydar on her, because i i act pretty damn straight to be honest with you.
Apart from the occasional knuckle crack, and manly yawn, i'm just your average straight looking girl, or am i?
Of course i'm fucking not, i'm much more than that. :)

Shanice's mum calls me the Lesbian. The first time she ever seen me was when i was hungover to death, wearing a pair of man sized Adidas Basketball shorts and a top that was at least twelve times too big, stumbling out of the house in bare feet and rolling into my boy racer car, to attempt the drive home still completely boshed. I've recieved the nicknames, Lezzer, Lesley, and Lezbomb ever since. For instance, the other day when i woke up, all i heard when i was half way down the stairs, is "What're you and the Lezbomb having for Breakfast, cheese toasties, yeah? I'll do it, you make the drinks."
At least they feed me, i mean i'm not complaining.. it doesn't bother me. Out of all the people in the world though, Shanice's mum is the first to ever suss me out good'n'propper. :) She truthfully is onto me, it's scary.

Butch tendencies: Baggy grey joggers; Biker tops; Eating habits; Gymming alot; Driving like a man; Drinking like a man; Being as sarcastic as a man; Being one of the boys; Sitting like a man; Gawping like a man; Walking like a man; Quad biking; Kickboxing; Football much?

Femme tendencies: Painting of the nails; Girly summer dresses; Sweet things; Jewellry; Perfume; Hair; Makes up; Having boobs; Too many items of clothing; Far too many pairs of shoes and bags; Underwear obsession; Making a biiiiiit of an effort; Being good at cuddles and kisses.

That's just a few examples. :') I'm extra extra glad i'm a lady though. I'm pretty vile sometimes, it's fun though.
Anyways, fuck know's how she knows.. Brenda Gaskell, i salute you woman.

My Dad

has just called and demanded a lift home. I laughed, and put the phone down. It's a Sunday night. He's probably been where i should be; Jumpin' Jacks nightclub. It wouldn't suprise me. Him and his wife like to take advantage of the £10 free bar and then whack the Champagne on ice for afterwards, classy. It drives me mad when i have to scrape round for money towards the end of the month just to fund my car's 1Litre engine, when those two might aswell be driving down the M6 with the roof down throwing money about, reinacting The Crystal Maze.
If you ever met my Dad, you'd laugh. You want reasons? I'll give you reasons. Actually, i'll give you a lengthy list:
1) He actually thinks he's 20.
2) The man wears Evisu jeans, Prada, Hugo Boss and owns far too much aftershave.
3) He drives a Range Rover Sport with blacked out windows
4) He's had his teeth whitened, HI SIMON.
5) Honestly, he is known by everyman and his dog!
6) He Owns a restaurant; even though he can barely make toast.
7) He has a canal side house, and a Barbie wife 12 years his junior, who has had several unsuccessful nose jobs. She still has a nose that looks like it's from the Middle-East, either that or it's been shaped with a T-square.
8) He thinks he's in a real life game of Monopoly. I wish i had that many houses.
9) All his music is pretty decent, it's laughable because it's strange.
10) He's 44 and has a 4 year old, urgh.
I'm not going to make him sound like an utter twat, i mean, he's a good Dad. I've got the biggest bed you've ever seen and he got me a balcony built onto my bedroom. I'm entirely thankful, true story. It comes in handy for a midnight cigarette anyway.
He leads about twelve lives, but i can't help but look upto him. I doubt i'm ever going to be as successful as my Dad, but i can always try.
He hates everything i do at the minute, it's funny. "Why're you getting tattoo's Beck?" Urr, because i fucking want them!
"Urghh, tongue piercings! You Lesbian!" No shit Sherlock! It only took you 18 years and 10 months to click on? Wow, you're fast!
I love him though, he's my Daddy. He's a bellend sometimes, but he's a banterous bastard. He traditionally makes me a Sausage sandwich every Sunday morning and makes me rate it out of 10. He's never gotten one ten to date, but still he strives on hoping for the day a 10 will eventually come; bless his soul.
He introduced me to Football, and we have an obsession with Cars and Technology. I actually love Cars too much, but i'm sure the man loves his iPhone more than he loves me sometimes.
Yup, i'm a Daddy's girl. It's true.
It's wierd though; i don't even live with him.

Dearest Gok-wan,

to be quite honest i don't really have a problem with you, but you need to know you're pretty fucking shit.
I mean come on, what skint student can afford a t-shirt that costs £105? I know it's Paul bastarding Smith, but you're meant to be showing us what we can afford, not driving us into temptation with our freshly opened, untouched overdrafts.
You're actually overly annoying when you do that shit highstreet comparison thing and still end up with a mega unaffordable outfit. £275 for an outfit, fuck me, i hope that includes the price of Underwear, and preferably new skin. I think you need to take a leaf out of Duff's book and get customizing and what not.
I actually think i'd be sweet as a nut at doing a programme like that. Fashion fix my arse, I'd do alot better than El Gokko. If it's one thing i know, it's fashion. I don't know much more, but i'm working on it.
That is all. My Gok-rant is over.

Today

it was agreed by a group of my very best male friends that i am indeed, one of the boys.
This is a giant compliment to be honest with you.
It suddenly dawned on them whilst they were indulging in heavy conversation about Liverpool Football Club. I butted in about how Gary McCallister's screamer from the half way line waaay back in 2004 was utterly magic, and that a Henchoz and Hypiaa reinactment is needed at Anfield as soon as possible. They then congratulated me on my Football knowledge and suggested i try to follow in Georgie Thompson's footsteps.
I FUCKING WISH. She is actually Gorgeous. I told them that too, they then congratulated me on my choice in Women, it was epic.
I mean, i know i've always been 'one of the boys', but i feel like the future's bright now that it's finally been confirmed. I am one of the selected few girls that can actually be as crude and whitty as a boy. Well done me! I knew my sarcasm would come in handy one day.
I've obviously been blessed with some sense of humour; god knows how.
My Mum laughs at her own home made jokes, and my Dad.. well he's just not funny, although he likes to think he is, i'll never admit it, never, ever. Well he is quite funny actually, but only in a 'look at me, i think i'm 20!' way.
When i was a young'un, you could find me playing Army in the bushes, building many dens, tree houses, rope swings ect, and playing a game called 'pully' on my local dual-carriageway. My Dad influenced this all, fuck knows how because he didn't even live with me. He would just pick me up and take me to Liverpool matches twice a week, then drop me at home. There is no better feeling than the fresh air, sparkling floodlights and mid-match banter at Anfield. No wonder i'm good at being boyish, i spent half of my childhood taking the piss out of the skipping linesman to make my Dad and his friends laugh. It worked though, i got free tickets for years; he even took me to Cardiff twice, so i must of been a fun child. I had a scout come to watch me play football when i was 13 and he got me trials for Wigan AFC, my Mum actually bribed me out of it, pretty gutted i listened to her now. If it weren't for the long Blonde locks that stretched down my back, i'm sure my Father would have been overly game for changing my name to Bruce, however my Mother would be far from approval. If you looked at me now, you would think there was nil truth to this. I'm as girly as a girl can be. I'm just not one of them bitchy girls, i'm good with banter and know how to take a joke; thank the lord.
Anyway, it's been decided and announced. I'm one of the boys. I hope it doesn't change my life too much, ha!