Columns: Tag – Lesbian
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A Lipstick Lesbian on the Prowl in London
About Astrid and her alter ego, Fluffy
Do your inside and your outside match? If they don’t, then you’ll understand why I have to introduce myself twice.
(Outside) If you would all turn your heads this way, that’s it, thank you. Perfect. I’m Astrid – sexy, voluptuous, Mediterranean olive skin, long dark flowing curls that almost cover my nipples. Expressive, dark, wooing eyes and … wait for it … two perfectly reconstructed silicone 34C breastesses.
A Lipstick Lesbian on the Prowl in London
Meeting girls
So how the fuck do you meet people in this town? Or any town for that matter! It’s all: ‘Mom, Dad I’m gay!” Then you go striding through that closet door onto pinker pastures and plop … now what? And with whom?
A Lipstick Lesbian on the Prowl in London
Coffee girl
I sell frappacinos to restaurants. It pays better than journalism and I’m in London for a good time, not politics.
The girl who serves the coffee at one of my new clients in Chancery Lane takes my breath away (literally. As in, I forget to breathe). She’s definitely gay. I’m never wrong. Except that one time when I was wrong about my first “girlfriend”. ("Just because I let you fuck me doesn’t make me gay,” I think is how she put it.)
A Lipstick Lesbian on the Prowl in London
Teach me a lesson
There it was. Perfect. Erect and staring straight at me out of its basket on the floor—
A bunch of old-fashioned wooden rulers – the kind from the fifties when blotchy-skin nuns used them to smack schoolgirls over their little knuckles. Punishment for saying the Lord’s name in vain.
A Lipstick Lesbian on the Prowl in London
Soccer
I’ve always loved playing soccer. The last time I played I was 14 (a decade ago). I’ve never played for a team, but my dad used to header all day with me in the garden and I used to play for hours with the garden wall, because the boys wouldn’t let me play with them. They knew I was better.
A Lipstick Lesbian on the Prowl in London
The girl in the copy room
The One’s reaction to the Ruler (read my last column if you don’t understand why a person would have any reaction to a ruler) was okay. And I hate the word okay. Because I use it a lot. It’s mediocre. I hate all things mediocre which is why I hate myself. But I digress. Sorry.
A Lipstick Lesbian on the Prowl in London
Pikey Blonde
I promised I would talk about my dating life in my last column, so before I get sidetracked or digress, I’m going to jump right into it.
A Lipstick Lesbian on the Prowl in London
Seventy-thousand lesbians flirting (or not)
You’d think my chances of hooking up, stealing a kiss, or meeting my soul mate would be quadrupled by being around 70 000 lesbians for an entire weekend….
Your Gay Best Friend
Is it still unfaithful?
Dear Gabriel
I’m a gay woman. I have lived with the same woman for 15 years. I have one question for you: is it still unfaithful if I slept with a man?
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