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This week has been painful to say the least. Not in an emotional sense, but in a physical one.

Monday was nice and chilled, with Laura and Brodie watching Xena and eating pizza. Tuesday, however, I decided to go to the gym. I was having great fun on the cross trainer for almost an hour watching High School Musical 2, when someone comes up to me. It was my friend Anna, a sports fanatic, personal trainer wannabe. So, I’m all like ‘Bitch, please. I’m watching High School Musical. Why you interrupting this shit?’, and she’s all like ‘Hey, fatty, get yo’ ass off there so I can torture you.’. That was basically the dialogue. Then she destroyed ever single muscle in my body to the point of waking up and finding it hard to move the next day.

On Wednesday, I went to the gym with Anna. Again. And the again on Thursday. So, basically, I’m a muscular ball of pain right now. And now it’s Friday, I’m going out to the gay clubs to get very drunk with my best friends. Awesome.

Also, you know what really pisses me off? Running around the house trying to find the source of the incredibly irritating constant ringing, only to reach it as the other person hangs up.

My EPIC birthday.

Saturday 10^th July – My 18^th birthday.

Thursday 8^th July – Sunday 11^th July – Gay Pride.

And that’s not the only reason why my birthday was the best one EVER!

Friday:

Friday night was the start of my birthday, and Pride, celebrations. I decided that for my birthday, it should be themed, which, of course, was ‘gay’. That meant basically anything to go with homos; icons, celebrities, stereotypes, whatever! I went as something I’ve always wanted to dress up as; a drag king, and I looked bloody handsome! I had a white shirt, black tie, waistcoat, smart trousers, bound chest, slicked back hair, a goatee… The full works.

            The night started with pre-drinks round Keya’s with me, Brodie, David, Dan, Amy, and, of course, Keya. David got me a case of beer, and we got our drink on. Brodie was Boy George, Keya was basically naked (the way I like him!), Dan was a rainbow, David had his ‘I <3 Lady GayGay’ t-shirt on, but I totally looked the best, no contest. Georgie made a brief appearance to give me my present – a ‘vibrating love chair’. I’ll leave that thought with you for a minute.

            We drank, and then we headed off to town. On the bus, we made some friends with a Spanish girl, and probably pissed the rest of the passengers off. We got to the clubs. We danced, we drank, some more people came, and we got our crunk on. I got some birthday lovin’, but that’s all I’m saying on that matter. Also, Keya fell off the stage, creating a giant gash on his shoulder which I was insisting was simple a flesh wound, but ‘everyone else was saying he needed to go to hospital’ (that was shouted at me, by him.)

            At some point in the night (we were all very drunk) I met a lovely Scottish lad, and mimicked his accent for a good 30 minutes. It was a lot of fun! At around midnight, Keya launched himself on me, took me to the ground and started shouting the Happy Birthday song in my face, while waving his cigarette around! He then proceeded to smooch my face off and bellow ‘WAS I THE FIRST ONE?!’.

            Also, I told my two favourite barmen, Rob and Keith that it was my birthday, and I got a birthday drink and a birthday hug from them. Seriously, they’re awesome.

            We went got in taxi, I talked to the lovely driver, and read the paper while everyone in the back was sleeping, or dying, and we got back at around 5 am, and went to bed, so we could be ready for the Pride parade the next day.

Saturday:

            Keya, Brodie and I all agreed that we should wake up at half nine, giving us plenty of time to get ready to leave by eleven. I stayed at Brodie’s that night, and we were both up on time. I had to wash the hairspray and gel out of my hair with cold water, and it was utterly gross. The cold water helped a lot with my hangover, but my hair wasn’t fully clean and when I touched it, I wanted to vomit.

            It was almost half ten and Keya had made no contact with us, so I was forced to go round his house and knock on his bedroom door. He shouted ‘GO AWAY’ at me, but then came to the door looking very hungover. I left him to get ready, went back to mine and begged my parents for a lift to town, as I also wanted them to be there. By them, I mean Ella.

            They reluctantly decided to come, despite my mother saying that ‘this type of thing isn’t usually appropriate for a 5 year old’. Okay, seriously, the worst thing is the drunken, half naked, overly camp men grinding on objects! Anyway… We arrived where Keya and I were meeting our LGBT youth group, and, still hungover, had to walk for about an hour until we actually reached the parade starting point! Finally, we were there, and it was the most beautiful sight of my life.

            We walked up the hill, and slowly saw the crowds of people, vehicles, rainbows, and gayness and happiness radiating from everyone. There were drag queens in cowboy hats and dresses, gay men in cars, lesbians galore and everyone had smiles on their faces. We took our places in the parade, among the other kids from the youth group, we had whistles and I had my pride flag at the ready.

            The parade started to move, and just seeing the procession of people, knowing I was in there, with them, gave me chills. We marched through town, passing children waving, old people smiling at us from their balconies, people cheering, all at us. They were all supporting our cause, and marching for something that is so important to me, and having a sea of people cheering, shouting, waving, and supporting us was the most overwhelming and emotional experience of my life. I struggled to hard to keep the tears back. I’ve never felt so proud in my life, which, I guess is kinda the point for Gay Pride, right?

            After the amazing parade, Keya, Brodie and I went down to watch the other events and made Ella, and my parents come too. Ella was watching the singing and really enjoyed it. She also liked holding my flag. We stayed and watched for a bit, then decided to go home in the afternoon to get ready for the celebrations that evening!

            I got home and saw my grandma for a bit. She made me cake, I couldn’t *not* see her! Then showered, and got ready for the evenings events, with a stomach still not feeling right.

            We went back to pride, this time, Keya, Louisa and I. We started off at the Pride area, where we abused a topless Mohican, with ‘Kiss My’ and an arrow pointing to his arse tattooed on him. We made up dance moves, inspired by people we saw which was hilarious! Then a very drunk friend kept wishing me a happy birthday. Then we went clubbing, I still felt sick, but I decided that drinking would help me through the pain! So, that’s what I did! Louisa, unfortunately, went home early ‘cause she was feeling ill, which sucked, but I didn’t want her to have a crappy night not feeling too good. I ended up getting very drunk, bumping into an ‘ex’ (loose term) and having a very, very awkward conversation with her. Then, at around 4 am, I thought it’d be really fun to shadow the people working there! First, I sat behind the desk checking whether or not people had stamps when they came in. Then, after the girl wanted her job back, I stood by the door, arms crossed, looking slightly angry, and asked people for ID and stamps, and they genuinely bought it! So many people, as long as they didn’t know me, believed I was a bouncer! I then went to cheer up my baby Keith (one of the awesome barmen I mentioned earlier), we were talking and I made him happy. Then he got me a lollypop and that made me happy! I got bored and thought it’d be an amazing idea to go and offer drinks to the staff and collect empty glasses. Then, I got a cloth and wiped down the surfaces. This meant I got another lolly and a free drink! This may seem extremely strange, but it was actually the most fun I’d had in a long time! I then saw Keith going into Tesco and helped with his shopping… There’s something wrong with me.

            It was 8 am and, since the sun was coming out, we decided it’d be a good time to leave the phone box with Adam Lambert and Diego (he’s lovely) and get the bus back home. Plus, I felt like death.

Sunday:

            On Sunday, Keya, Louisa, Diego and I met in town again, and this time, I felt less death-y but still quite death-y. It seemed like a good idea (after my Pepsi and ice cream from KFC) to get the drinks in. I ordered vodka and ice, which was SO good for my hangover! Like, it really was! Then we watched this theatre group perform on stage and they were the worst. Singers. EVER! Like, my ears started bleeding, they had little applause and their choreographer should have been shot. Regardless, the more I drunk the more Louisa and I deemed it necessary to mock them by mimicking their dance moves and singing. It’s okay, they couldn’t hear us…

            We carried on drinking, and listened to the bangin’ tunez on DJ Pride. Yes, the DJ was called ‘DJ Pride’. Then, Louisa spotted a scrawny, ginger barman, who she immediately fancied. We kept getting drinks, well, Louisa and I did, and before Keya and Diego left, because we’d embarrassed Keya, they went up to the barman and told him that Louisa/’that girl over there’ (my cue to point) fancied him. Louisa, extremely embarrassed refused to get anymore drinks until he had gone. It was just Louisa and I left, and I kept trying to make her talk to him, but alas, she wouldn’t.

            We spent the rest of the night avoiding stalky lesbians who know me, and I chatted up some Polish woman with a haircut like Obi Wan Kenobi for fun.

            It was time to leave, as Louisa had a train and it closed at 11 pm. Before we left, Ginger Barman apologised for earlier when we made a pathetic attempt at talking to him by asking for a lighter and he walked away. Then, I stole his phone, and saved Lou’s number in it and told him to text her. He never did…

            As we were walking to the train station, we managed to find out who won the World Cup by the masses and masses of Spanish people ecstatically cheering. We managed to get through the crowds of people by walking though, with a spring in our step, shouting ‘Hola!’, ‘Espana!’ and ‘Te amo Espanol!’. We’re not fluent in the language, so they were the three things we mustered up.

            Finally, we emerged from the thousands of Spanish people, to find a ripped t-shirt on top of a bin. Being the hyper drunkards we are, we took the t-shirt. Louisa took a whiff of the bin shirt and discovered that it was actually very clean. She still has it and plans to wear it.

            We eventually arrived at the train station, Louisa abandoned me to get a train, I got harassed by a skag’ead for 50p and then I went home and slept for about a thousand hours with a massive smile on my face because it truly was the best birthday weekend ever.

            Thank you to everyone who made my birthday amazing; my friends, family and random drunk people I met. I love the memories, and will treasure them forever.

Paedophile Dave and the Racist Latvian.

It was Friday, and Keya had planned to go out clubbing with a 50 year old man called Dave (AKA Dave the Rapist, Paedophile Dave). Now, I don’t go out on Friday nights clubbing because I have work the next day, and when I don’t sleep, I get grouchy. I also have an inability to leave the clubs early and not get utterly wasted (money permitting). However, Keya invited me out. At first I declined, until I realised he was going with Paedophile Dave, meaning I had to go otherwise Keya might get his drink spiked and rape may occur!

            Side note; You may think I’m over reacting with the whole ‘drink spiking’ thing, but Dan, who also went out that night, went back to Dave’s one time, got offered coffee and after a few sips felt light headed, so ran away. Hence the name ‘Dave the Rapist’.

            Keya, David and I had a quick gym session (which was much quicker for Keya who gave up after an hour) then I showered, and got ready to go to Keya’s for predrinks, then town.

            Keya was already slightly drunk by the time we got on the bus and met Dan. We arrived in town and waited for Paedophile Dave. Whilst waiting, Keya informed me that Dave said he’d pay for Keya’s drinks that night. Being the jammy fucker I am, I decided that we should formulate a plan where I get free drinks too.

            At this point, Keya was rather drunk, as was Dan, and I was getting tipsy. Then along came Dave. We made up some story to him about how I don’t have a passport, and only have my student ID and whatnot, which claims I’m 19 and blah, blah, blah, so he said if anyone questions me, to pretend I’m his little sister. Ain’t gonna lie mate, but do you *honestly* think we could get away with that?! You’re about the same age as my dad!!

            We ventured into the gay bars, and Dave bought all three of us drinks. We were served by these two gigantic bears! (If you don’t know what a ‘bear’ is, look it up in the gay section.) Then we went to another one, which was actually busy. We got there, I bought Keya and me a drink, and then we went to the beer garden and socialised.

            Whilst we were here, I may have completely eavesdropped in on Dave talking to his butch lesbian friend. The part of the conversation that I overheard went a little something like this:

            “This is my new missus. Yeah, it’s going really well. I’ve got her name tattooed on me and everything!”

            After bearing witness to the epitome of the lesbian community, Dan suggested quickly going to another club to get stamps before midnight so the entry was half price. We told Dave we were going, and he said he’d meet us in there. Then Keya and I performed an exquisite routine of ‘Oh, do you have any money, Keya? Cause I don’t.’ when we clearly did. Dave the Rapist gave us £20 which Keya smoothly refused to accept, so I took it and promised Dave I’d give him the change.

            We ran over to the club, laughing at our profit, went into the club, bought drinks with Dave’s money, and got our rave on.

            I was substantially drunk and I saw this rather attractive girl sat by herself. I walked over to her and asked her to dance, well, forced her upon the dance floor, and offered to buy her a drink, which, thankfully for my pocket, she declined. I then informed her, and the gay guy she was with, that I was going for a cigarette, which Keya joined me for. Keya then asked the sexuality of the pair, in a slurring manner. Apparently, the girl was straight! That made me glad she declined my drink offer, but sad in my pants.

            Then, I started talking to this guy from Latvia, wearing a t-shirt that read ‘If I say I’m gay, will you let me touch your boobs.’ For some drunken reason, I said ‘YES!’, and then he started talking about how he preferred the gay scene because there were less ‘niggers’.

            So, I’m there like ‘What…?’ and he starts chatting on about how white people should stay in Europe, yellow people should stay in Asia and black people should stay in Africa eating bananas in trees (his words NOT mine). I started laughing because it was all so ridiculous! I genuinely was under the impression he was joking. Then Keya came out, and I can’t remember what was said but I remember Keya coming over, talking to us for a bit and then dragging me away because Keya thought he was being racist. I then explain to Keya that the Latvian guy was just joking… Then the Latvian said that he wasn’t joking. Keya kicked off.

            The next thing I can recall is Keya’s skinny 5’4” frame squared up to the 6ft, well built Latvian, with me beside Keya, fists clenched, ready to punch him in the head. Apparently, I had time to text Twitter informing them of this fight, whilst Keya was shouting in the Latvian’s face. Paedophile Dave came out just in time to drag Keya off the Latvian he kicked as I was telling him that he should “walk the fuck away”.

            We went back in the club, explain to the lovely bouncer, Sean, what had happened, and I told him about how he called black people monkeys, and the Latvian was banned. Drunken lary kids: 1. Racist Latvian: 0.

            Now, we’re back in the club and Keya’s getting hit on by this guy. I’m at the bar, ready to buy another drink. I look over to Keya who has obviously requested that in the courting process, this homo must buy him a drink. I watch this guy, just in case he tries to spike Keya’s drink or something, and he literally walks over to the bar, changes his mind, picks up this half full glass from the table, and gives it to Keya! Then, I caught Keya’s eyes, he looked back at me, one elbow on the table, resting his head against his hand to hold it up, eyes half shut, lifting the drink to his lips. I shook my head at him, and Keya put the drink down. I then walked over to him, and told him where the guy got the drink from. Then I picked it up and started to drink it. Yeah, I’m gross, get over it!

            We danced, we drank some more, we spent all of Paedophile Dave’s money on drinks because he never asked for change! I made out with a black girl. We danced the Bad Romance. Then, the club we were in was shutting. Keya and I decided that it would be best to head back home.

            We got outside the club, around 4 AM, and then we saw him again. The racist Latvian! I remember Keya shouting at him, me telling him to fuck off whilst following him down the street to make sure he went, then I turned around and Keya’s on the floor wrestling with some guy! Neither of us have a clue why, and I’m pretty sure we’ll never know.

            At half four, we finally got on the bus to go home. I was being chatted up by a 37 year old called Nick, who was actually lovely, despite being creepy. Keya then threw up before we got into the taxi, which I filmed, of course! Then we got back to his house, I decided to ride my moped the 3 minute journey back to mine standing up! Then I got back, at 5 AM, went to sleep, then woke up at 9 AM to get ready for work.

            I spent £50 in total that night. I felt like shit for work. We got into a fight. It was amazing though. And Keya didn’t even get raped!

The incoherent mass of events from the past few days.

I’m currently sat in Starbucks, with my friend Anna from college, drinking tea and watching her fail at drinking hot chocolate by getting whipped cream all around her mouth. God, I feel the part.
So, I went to a party last night, and set out to get really, really drunk. And I did. I also managed to get two free drinks and a taxi ride back.
The night started off with me being exceedingly late, getting there at 9:30, instead of the starting time of 7:30. I blame the buses for this. I was a bit pissed off with the fact that the bus was going to get there any earlier, but as the bus pulled in, I noticed that the bus driver was a massive dyke!! This excitement was enhanced by the two girls behind me, who was also raging homosexuals.
After arriving at the club, and greeting the people, including Charlie and Phoebe from work, and Stacey, the host of the party, who we used to work with also, I ordered a pint, to Phoebe and Charlie’s amusement (they found it profoundly butch). After taking the piss out of me for ordering a pint, they proceeded to promise me a cocktail. Okay, so I don’t usually drink cocktails, but I’m not turning down a free drink! (Speaking of cocktails, Phoebe and Charlie drank cocktails called Pink Pussy, much to my delight! I’m sure you can simply imagine the jokes.)
The night went on and, to be honest, there are some blank spots in my mind. Although, a fond memory of the night was playing gay chicken with straight girls. It’s so much fun! They get really creeped out! Yes, it may be weird, but watching them squirm is hilarious!
So, I managed to get a pint out of Charlie and a shot of Sambuka out of Phoebe, as well as getting my own drinks. I was very, very drunk. They got a taxi back to the train station, where I parked my bike, at around 12, and paid for it all. I paid nothing.
After arriving at the train station, me and Charlie decided to sing, which turned into shouting as loud as we could! I have no idea why, or what song we were attempting, but we did. Then they went to walk home, and I went to get on my moped. Yes, I was drink driving. And it’s a hideously bad, yet hilarious story.
So, I arrive in the taxi at Poole train station, and say goodbye to my friends, get my keys out of my pocket, somehow open the seat to get my helmet out and am able to put the keys in the ignition, get on my bike, and fall straight over. Literally, straight over. I probably hurt myself but, to be honest, I was so drunk I couldn’t comprehend it. I ride back, not perfectly, but manageably, singing, no shouting Lady Gaga – Poker Face, at the top of my voice, whilst beeping my horn! I must have woken so many people up! I somehow am able to arrive home, but I did a shoddy attempt at pulling into my driveway, failing, so I had to turn round, I once again fell over. This is when I actually hurt myself. I have a cut on my hand, a damaged elbow and my helmet is all scratched up… In all honesty, it isn’t as bad as I make out, but I’m a pussy. Well, you know what they say; you are what you eat!!
That was my night, and then I woke up in the morning, well, at about 12, and had a wonderful day in Bournemouth.
I’m now currently on the train back from New Milton, with Keya and David, who are both very homosexual, and they’re bitching about how I don’t blog about them. So, here we go.
We are coming back from New Milton, as that is where Louisa (the drunken lamppost talker!) lives. We got 23 items of food from Tesco, including cake mix. Tesco value cake mix! As we got two packets of cake mix, we split into teams. Me and David and Lou and Keya. Lou and Keya’s cake went well. Mine and David’s on the other hand… We decided to pour a whole new bottle of blue food colouring into it. Then realised it would taste like ass, so put loads of sugar in! Then as it was too gloopy, since we put fizzy tropical drink in instead of water, Lou suggested putting corn flour in it, to thicken it up. So, that’s what happened… Then, when Lou and Keya weren’t looking, me and David put bread into their cake mix! They noticed, and vowed to get us back… They put bread in ours too. Then, again when we weren’t looking, they poured salt into it all! Keya told me when we went out for a fag, and Lou and David were in the lounge, so when we went back into the kitchen and the cakes were baking, we put soy sauce and hot chilli powder in it!
Whilst the cakes were baking, Keya and Lou pinned me down whilst David tried to teabag me! Not nice. So, I got into Xena mode and fended all three of them off! Just because David and Keya are poofs and Lou’s a girl, it doesn’t mean they’re weak!
After a slight rape session, the cakes were done, so we went and got them out of the oven, let them cool down, and went to all try mine and David’s creation (with the tropical soda, salt, sugar, corn flour, soy sauce and chilli powder in), although, little to David’s knowledge, despite us all saying we were going to eat it at the same time, me, Louisa and Keya had no intentions of eating the skaggy pile of crap on our forks. David, however, oblivious to all the extra ingredients that had gone in there, put it in his mouth. Chewed. Screwed his face up in disgust, and spat it all out in the bin.
We then watched TV, got the train, went home. And here I am now, finally finishing off the blog that has taken me all day.