we're here, we're queer, yada, yada, yada

On Saturday Keeper, myself and our friend Tara from Atlanta attended Baltimore gay pride. Armed with a fish purse (it is what it is people, a purse that looks like a fish) full of miller light, we stood out on the street and watched the good, the bad and the very, very ugly that is Baltimore Pride. The good fun thing about B-Pride is that they don’t give a flying fuck if you drink on the street. As you know, alcohol makes everything more fun, so keeper and I proceeded to “gut the fish” as the parade went by. In the recent years, people in the parade began flinging beads into the crowd of onlookers. Now along with beads, they throw candy. If you’re not careful, you can lose an eye when an overzealous drag queen beams you with a jolly rancher.

Luckily we finished watching the parade with no major injury and proceeded up the street to the block party. The block party is the same deal as the parade but with greasy, smoky fair food, a lot more alcohol and a stage full of drag queens and other random performers. Astutely, Keeper noted that she was among the top five good looking people there which a) she most definitely was and b) wasn’t hard to do. In fact, before the parade Tara said she was going to run around pride screaming “my eyes, my eyes!” whenever a particularly unfortunate looking creature appeared in her vision.

At one point we were leaning against a car when I spotted someone teetering near the curb. Sure enough they tossed their funnel cake (or whatever the hell they ate) all over Eager street. Keeper was disgusted but I was more interested in who wouldn’t notice the huge puddle of yack and step in it. I didn’t have long to wait before someone wearing sandals (score!) paraded right on through.

As the night wore on, we switched to Sapporo after running out of miller light. (which we consumed eloquently out of brown paper bags) We were trying to hang around to see drag queen extraordinaire- Ru-Paul perform. Surprisingly she came out on time but was lip-syncing to her own songs. We were going to try and hang around until she did her big hit Supermodel but about three songs in we were both over it and left. Six full hours of gay was enough until next year when we once again descend on the gay ghetto and revel in our average looks.