Trumped

I was going to tell people about my weekend activities, but I've been beaten to it by dearest Trump and those two Yorkshire queers. Fuckers.

Anyway, it was very nice, doing lots of gay things and I'm enjoying having most of my body out of the closet now. I pointed out to Trump that if it wasn't for people like her, organising pride type events, and also the campaigning of people for many years up to now, people like me would be living pretty miserable, lonely and fearful existences. All who fight prejudices deserve our gratitude for allowing us to live our lives.

Right, enough of that sentimental crap.

While at the event on Saturday, in between dodging the flying dead-eye daggers of a certain person's ex, I was talking to my friends about stuff to do with life: placemats, toilet paper, that kind of affair. We then got onto the subject of lesbians - it seemed fitting - and what a nightmare they are, what with all their emotional baggage, hormones, exes, millions of cats. At the time, we were enjoying a rendition of something in Zulu-speak by a community choir (they were all white and from Manchester, strangely enough) and I made a passing comment about wondering how many hours counselling they'd clocked up between them. My friend pointed out that nobody could have had more than her and this is where we thought of the usual attributes of your average librarian and came up with the idea of...

Lesbian Top Trumps
The idea is that, instead of shite like Gaydar Girl profiles, a young lady would be assigned points according to attributes such as:

• Number of exes (inc times as dumped vs dumper)
  
• Number of cats
• Kilos of pulses/muesli consumed per week
  
• Hours in counselling
• Number of Wendy shirts
  
• Hair length
• Front-to-back hair length ratio ("mullet score")
• Copies of the L Word, Tipping the Velvet, Fingersmith on DVD (inc Region 1)
• Number of pairs of Birkenstocks, Docs
• Watch face size
• Number and location of tattoos
• Number and location of piercings
  

You get the picture? My score would be about 20 or something I think.


Oh, how we laughed!
Went to a comedy night last night. It was an all female comedian thing, and it was quite enjoyable, apart from the one numpty who'd gotten so pissed that she couldn't remember any of her stuff. Idiot.

Of course, it was a female-dominated audience, and with just three cubicles in the ladies', there was a bit of a queue during the intervals. Standing there, waiting my turn somewhere in teh middle of the line of women, I was astounded at the number of those who burst into the lavs, asking "is this a queue?".

"No, it's a welcoming committee in your honour. Which of our special cubicles would madame like to choose from this evening, we have a special one that is sporting the fragrance of post-curry shite in the centre, while the one at the end has no seat."

Idiots.