Obligatory Gay Pride Post
So yeah. SF Gay Pride was this weekend. You’re expecting the obligatory post, right? Okay.
- One can only do so much “Whoo”-ing. You see a group of drag queens, and what do you and the group of friends that you’re with do? “Whooo!!!” See a bunch of Go-Go dancers dancing on a rooftop? “Whoooo!!!” I swear to god, it was JUST like Total Request Live. Except for the fact that there’s a lot more guys in leather. And the whole homosexual thing.
- I realized in horror this morning that the group engaged in “Pride Festivities” (including Bel, Rae, Gerard and Emi) had more non-gay people than gay people. In fact, everytime I go to a gay club, I’m always taking straight people, straight guys and straight girls. I’m a tour bus for heterosexuals. And guess who ends up getting hit on at the clubs? Yep, that’s right. Them. No, don’t mind me, I’ll just smoke in the corner and cry myself to sleep.
- And I really, really hate saying this, but after two days, all the homosexuals running around San Francisco just kinda merges into one generic, shirtless gay man. And he wears a nipple ring. And he’s dancing to songs about Freedom or Pride to a bad house beat. I swear to god, after the parade was over I jumped in my car and played a hip-hop mix CD to un-gay myself. And I’m gay.
Oh yeah, two hours of frantic cellphone tag with Tim and I still didn’t run into him. Dammit. Third time will be the charm, baby.
No Comments Yet