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in a web of glass, pinned to the edges of vision

Observations on Pride 2003.

I'd forgotten how often we saw Magritte

mucha mosaic

Observations on Pride 2003.

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mucha mosaic
1: I am not turning into a rice queen. The boys who were actually goodlooking there were, in vast majority, asian. I'm not just making this one up, I had an essentially-hetero man confirm this for me (and my thanks to you, who shall go unnamed here).
2: Armistead Maupin looked like he was having an absolute ball.
3: The best call/response I heard from a float: 'How many of you are here today because today, you're gay?' (mild cheering) 'and how many of you are gay EVERY FUCKING DAY OF THE YEAR????' (wild cheering)
4: I was hit on four times on my way home: once by a 63-year-old german fellow who was a very charming conversationalist and though he did nothing for me sexually he was truly interesting to talk to; once by a middleaged leather bear who seemed to think that my comment 'I don't bottom' didn't have any relationship to whether or not I was going to follow him back to his basement; once by a stupid glamboy twink who seemed to think I was going to follow him home for the chance to worship his Utterly Perfect Body; and once by a very charming young fellow who was apparently fresh out of the closet.
5: none of these passes were from anyone I wanted to fuck; however, the ego boosts were much appreciated: shit, 4 passes is better than I do in the average MONTH, and this was in one hour. Gaining weight is, apparently, not at all deleterious to my attractiveness. Thanks to Pieter, Rob, Mike and David.
6: The Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence made a large head of one of their Order (literally 10' high if an inch), and drove it through the parade on a truck. I still cannot decide if this terrified or pleased me.
7: Utilikilts as the only item of clothing on a couple of guys making out are a lot less troubling to me than Black Watch kilts were 7 years ago. Utilikilts apparently also sold like hotcakes: should've gotten myself one while I was wandering off from the parade to have a slash. Ah well; mailorder it is.
And a belated addition
8: On the way home, I was driven by the nice cabby past THE CARTHEDRAL. Not eight blocks from my home.

God I love this city.
  • I don't think I've ever gotten four passes in my life. It is either because I'm particularly imperceptive about such things, or because I fill everybody with The Fear.
    • Huh.

      From the photos I've seen of you browsing your website and the icons you choose, I'm honestly surprised to hear that.
      • Re: Huh.

        Thank you. :) But I can still pretty much remember every time I've been hit on. That I'm aware of.

        The last one I'm aware of was in my kitchen in 1996. My quasi-idiot roommate (he's only an idiot when I live with him, if you can dig that) was having a get-together with his actual-idiot friends. I was in the kitchen, making dinner and trying to make believe that none of them were there. This sort of buck-toothed, buzz-cut cracker stereotype thing came out into the kitchen, and started talking to me, wanting to know things like what I did for a living and what I was into, in that unmistakeably irrelevant fashion which indicates that he'd really rather put his hand down my pants, or maybe bend over for me. I felt a combination of flattery and horror. I politely strangled the conversation to death, then went upstairs and locked myself in my room.
        • Re: Huh.

          Gleck. That's the kind of pass I normally notice, too: anything short of that forceable and I tend to miss it. I'm sure there are some reading this entry who could testify to the truth of that.
          • Re: Huh.

            The Carthedral rocks, by the way. I just wonder about the rear suspension, even if it is a hearse.
  • 3: The best call/response I heard from a float: 'How many of you are here today because today, you're gay?' (mild cheering) 'and how many of you are gay EVERY FUCKING DAY OF THE YEAR????' (wild cheering)

    Now THAT is kewl...
  • Of course you're attractive, you fluffy feathered peregrine.

    You're one of two gay men who makes me wish I was a gay man. And lemme tell you, that's saying something because I dig on being female in a big way.

    Yay for you with the hit-onnage.
    • Well yeah.

      there's a difference between knowing it intellectually and having an actual experiential knowledge of it, though.

  • For the record, post near-death experience, you are cute. More beautiful gay Asian men should hit on you.

    Pride is always so much fun, though I fear we have been out-fagged by Berlin. They held their Pride celebration on the same day. About half a million people came out (no pun intended). Our parade is probably bigger, but they have a gay mayor. GAY MAYOR. I am so living in the wrong city.


    Carthedral rocks my socks. It was built a few years ago around the corner from the place in Oakland where I used to go to firedancing practice, and it would be super extra cool to watch it drive by and salute it with spinning flames. Okay, maybe I don't live in the wrong city after all.
    • My favorite thing about this icon finally hit me- I liked it, but I couldn't pin down WHY I liked it. It's as if you're holding me by the chin and looking into my eyes.

      Berlin has a ton of fags, and a gay mayor. San Francisco doesn't have snow. Berlin has history; we have views. Berlin has a bear as its mascot, we have a phoenix.

      I'll stay here, thanks. And that's unrelated to my not speaking German.
      • Looooook into my eeeeeyes!

        Berlin is considerably prettier than you might think. Any place with great, looming gothic cathedrals is fine by me. I know I go on and on about it these days, but I was deeply impressed by the mix of history and the Berliners' great enthusiasm for partying their butts off.

        Also, I had no idea the city mascot was a phoenix.
        • Re: Looooook into my eeeeeyes!

          Here is the website of the SF historical society which describes the seal. I hotlink the older seal here:
          And I do definitely want to see Berlin, if only to measure it against such things as Wim Wenders' movies set there (which I love dearly).
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