Usually I only end up at a parade by accident--say, because I forgot it was happening and wanted to simply make my way home from work or make my way to the Y for a swim or make my way to H and M to return the latest thing I bought that was the wrong size because everything at H and M is apparently tagged with whatever label is closest at hand in the Indonesian sweatshop. But that's a different blog post.
The point is, I never really plan on going to a parade, but on Sunday I had to go into work for a few hours and, because my office building is at 5th and 37th, I got sucked into the best type of parade to stumble upon--a gay one. Sure, all parades are gay, but they don't all advertise themselves as such. So let's take a stroll through these pics and have a gander at all the folks dressed in their underwear/kimonos/flamingo-feathered tank tops in broad daylight, shall we? (You can, of course, click the clicky to enlarge the images. Sorry for any glitches, this new Blogger freaking sux.)
I immediately felt underdressed when I saw this lovely shemale bringing the rainbow realness to 37th Street between 5th and 6th.
I wanted to talk to the dude in the shades about his music box but I don't think he could hear me over the music box.
|This geisha pirate doesn't have time for this bullish*t.|
Just a normal, every day scene out in front of my office.
Don't pretend like you've never been out in public and needed help with your loincloth.
That's the same bridal skirt I wore to my confirmation.
Some sort of Shakespearean gay cosplay type thing? Sure.
Those Russians sure know how to ride in a pickup.
That's the same American flag banana hammock I wore to my Nanna's 90th birthday party.
So, the inventor of Chipotle is apparently a gayboy, which explains this (as much as this can be explained).
Yes, this is what I came here for: girls and ladyboys in purple and gray who are ready to bring it, whatever it is. Maybe some flashdancing?
Still ready to bring it. Bringing it any moment now.
Okay, move a little closer, sure. Yep, just walk on past. I didn't want to see any flashdancing yet anyway.
Flashdance commencing. The view from behind.
Guess a video would have been better, huh. Anyway, next...
Not sure what's happening here, but the important thing is that it's confusing.
Ah, and here comes the Berlin float, with some Berliners on it.
We are all Berliners now. Speaking of Berliners, I'm pretty sure you're ready to see a few more pictures of the smoking hot dude with the shaved head and sunglasses in the picture up top, right?
His name is Dieter and he's the new star of all of my sex dreams that take place at Brandenburg Gate.
Oh, hi again, Dieter. I'm worried that your pants are too high. Maybe shove them down a little?
Wait, these boys aren't Dieter. Nehmen Sie mich zuruck zu Dieter!
That's more like it. A few more of Dieter before he floats away maybe?
Phew, that was exhausting. Now, where can I go to get some gay coffee?