This past weekend has been almost entirely taken up with attending Manchester Pride. What hasnt been taken up with Pride has been taken up with my being in work and looking like the trash heap from Fraggle Rock:
Marvelous.
Anyway, my antics actually embarrassed me, and for a different reason than usual, because for once I attended no clubs! Shock! Horror! Scandal! In my previous entry I described how I was attending with a miscellaneous group of misanthropes who I honestly couldnt predict the reactions of, but everything went deliciously well.
The parade was fantastic. Up until now Ive never been able to watch it, because Ive always been working on the Saturday, but this year my brother Round, Bournville and I joined forces with Cee and Ay to cling on to each other and observe. Laugh? Thought my pants would never dry. Cheer? I lost my voice. No, really. I lost my voice three times over the weekend and had to scream to be heard beyond a whisper. Bah.
Highlights of the parade itself included the worlds biggest dress, which was worn by a Priscilla Queen of the Desert-esque drag-queen, who stood atop a cherry picker and every time there was a suitable crowd (which was often) would pause to abandon her retainers and soar up into the air with a fanfare and an operatic warble. Marvelous. Also featured was a bright pink tank (yes, a tank, and we had to be moved off the street to avoid getting killed), various gay police, firemen, the SMDykes group I briefly became a member of, and perhaps twelve-thousand other people all mincing down the road to their chosen theme. It rocked my tiny world.
After the parade we swanned into Canal Street (epicentre of world gay) and took up a booth by a balcony on the second floor in a bar which at that point was relatively unpopulated. This changed, rapidly, though a merry time was had by all when we played the ooh! Look at the arms on that!, and the is that a man? game out the window. We left there and wandered up and down the street being greeted at intervals by crazies that one or more of us knew, including Marl, a deeply camp black friend of my brother Round, whose most notable recent moment was being unable to guide a car full of drunken friends back home because he was too busy blathering on about somebody elses enormous cock.
We visited the marketplace, where my brother Round acquired some free gay porn, my friend Bournville acquired a poseable penis, and I acquired a bull-whip to go with my cowboy hatwhich speaks volumes as to what I was wearing at the time. Im sorry to say that I gave whip-cracking lessons to anyone who would listen, and later found myself dancing with the stupid thing and making a total fool of myself. Unusually.
Finally we took up residence on the green which had turned into an impromptu chill-out zone (slightly belied by the presence of a beer tent) and I got to do a minor series of dirty things with both Cee and Ay. Marvellous stuff.
The next day I returned to Pride and hung out with Cee for a few hours on the green again (sadly, Ay had to work). As Cee is possibly the most manly man Ive sat with for years (think beard, shaved head etc.) there were top comedy bad looks from all passing lesbians, especially since we were sat almost next to the womens only zone. Cee left after a short while to catch his train, and I went to the womens only zone to watch the acts and participate in some, before meeting my brother Round and hanging with him for a while. And lo. There was gayness. Plenty of.
and an assload (PLEASE dont take that literally) of dyketastic joy.
Reality can at times be endless, very silly fun.
Fun Felidae Fact: Did you ever do a bungee jump? Yes? No? Well frankly the feeling isnt dissimilar to how I feel right now. Its cool right up until you leap (yelling the epithet of your choice) into mid-air, whereupon that sense of unbelievable ROCK is overridden by your body, which wants to back-pedal wildly and scream at you that hurtling off an object a million feet up in the air with a glorified elastic band tied to your feet is NOT a great idea. Thus you plummet, bellowing in terror, dignity lost to the wind. Finally you rest on the ground while all and sundry congratulate you, and you wonder what the fucking hell possessed you oh, and you feel oddly proud of yourself.
Anywayanalogy over:
Yes, thats how Im feeling right now regarding a certain situation. I can only hope my bungee doesnt snap and that I do get to rest on the ground. The part Im dreading is the plummet. Right now Im enjoying it. Kind of that, close your eyes part they tell you to do before you lean back.
Guess Ill let you know when I fall.
Marvelous.
Anyway, my antics actually embarrassed me, and for a different reason than usual, because for once I attended no clubs! Shock! Horror! Scandal! In my previous entry I described how I was attending with a miscellaneous group of misanthropes who I honestly couldnt predict the reactions of, but everything went deliciously well.
The parade was fantastic. Up until now Ive never been able to watch it, because Ive always been working on the Saturday, but this year my brother Round, Bournville and I joined forces with Cee and Ay to cling on to each other and observe. Laugh? Thought my pants would never dry. Cheer? I lost my voice. No, really. I lost my voice three times over the weekend and had to scream to be heard beyond a whisper. Bah.
Highlights of the parade itself included the worlds biggest dress, which was worn by a Priscilla Queen of the Desert-esque drag-queen, who stood atop a cherry picker and every time there was a suitable crowd (which was often) would pause to abandon her retainers and soar up into the air with a fanfare and an operatic warble. Marvelous. Also featured was a bright pink tank (yes, a tank, and we had to be moved off the street to avoid getting killed), various gay police, firemen, the SMDykes group I briefly became a member of, and perhaps twelve-thousand other people all mincing down the road to their chosen theme. It rocked my tiny world.
After the parade we swanned into Canal Street (epicentre of world gay) and took up a booth by a balcony on the second floor in a bar which at that point was relatively unpopulated. This changed, rapidly, though a merry time was had by all when we played the ooh! Look at the arms on that!, and the is that a man? game out the window. We left there and wandered up and down the street being greeted at intervals by crazies that one or more of us knew, including Marl, a deeply camp black friend of my brother Round, whose most notable recent moment was being unable to guide a car full of drunken friends back home because he was too busy blathering on about somebody elses enormous cock.
We visited the marketplace, where my brother Round acquired some free gay porn, my friend Bournville acquired a poseable penis, and I acquired a bull-whip to go with my cowboy hatwhich speaks volumes as to what I was wearing at the time. Im sorry to say that I gave whip-cracking lessons to anyone who would listen, and later found myself dancing with the stupid thing and making a total fool of myself. Unusually.
Finally we took up residence on the green which had turned into an impromptu chill-out zone (slightly belied by the presence of a beer tent) and I got to do a minor series of dirty things with both Cee and Ay. Marvellous stuff.
The next day I returned to Pride and hung out with Cee for a few hours on the green again (sadly, Ay had to work). As Cee is possibly the most manly man Ive sat with for years (think beard, shaved head etc.) there were top comedy bad looks from all passing lesbians, especially since we were sat almost next to the womens only zone. Cee left after a short while to catch his train, and I went to the womens only zone to watch the acts and participate in some, before meeting my brother Round and hanging with him for a while. And lo. There was gayness. Plenty of.
and an assload (PLEASE dont take that literally) of dyketastic joy.
Reality can at times be endless, very silly fun.
Fun Felidae Fact: Did you ever do a bungee jump? Yes? No? Well frankly the feeling isnt dissimilar to how I feel right now. Its cool right up until you leap (yelling the epithet of your choice) into mid-air, whereupon that sense of unbelievable ROCK is overridden by your body, which wants to back-pedal wildly and scream at you that hurtling off an object a million feet up in the air with a glorified elastic band tied to your feet is NOT a great idea. Thus you plummet, bellowing in terror, dignity lost to the wind. Finally you rest on the ground while all and sundry congratulate you, and you wonder what the fucking hell possessed you oh, and you feel oddly proud of yourself.
Anywayanalogy over:
Yes, thats how Im feeling right now regarding a certain situation. I can only hope my bungee doesnt snap and that I do get to rest on the ground. The part Im dreading is the plummet. Right now Im enjoying it. Kind of that, close your eyes part they tell you to do before you lean back.
Guess Ill let you know when I fall.
VIEW 7 of 7 COMMENTS
prismaswirl:
ooooooooooh pride there sounds like so much fun! i haven't thought about fraggle rock in years.
gretel:
oh! you are quite marvelous are'nt you? i do belive... ping*... i have a crush 