Pride.
The Gay Pride Parade, if you're unfamiliar, is the most insane event of the year in Chicago. I just adore crazy shit so, naturally, I'm a regular attendee. I'm still not gay (sorry ladies), but I sympathize with my little pansy brothers and sisters and they sure do know how to throw a party. And get dressed for said party. And rainbows are pretty.
The Schedule:
The actual Parade is Sunday afternoon, starting around 1:00pm, but there is plenty more to attend to in the days prior. The big stand out event this year (for me anyway) is an LGBT fundraiser at Sidetrack on Friday for the one and only B-Man. Those of you who aren't his BFF may know him as Barack Obama, antichrist and proponent of truth and justice. It's a $20 for entry and 2 drinks as well as appetizers, which is a pretty solid deal and it's an excellent cause. So you better fucking show up. Additionally, I have one lunatic friend who likes to take me to Sidetrack, auspiciously for the alcoholic slurpies they feature (uh huh). And they are quite delicious, I recommend 'purple'. The event is 6:00 - 8:00pm, Happy Hour!
Other activities are still getting worked out, but the Chicago Gay Men's Chorus is playing the fest stage at 1:20pm on Saturday and...fuck it, I'll just post the schedule. You can tell me how helpful I am when we're doing shots in the afternoon:
5 p.m.: Kathy "Sister" Sledge
noon: Clark Street Band
1 p.m.: Gay Shakespeare
1:20 p.m.: Chicago Gay Men's Chorus
2 p.m.: Chicago Spirit Parade
2:30 p.m.: Naked Boys Singing
3:20 p.m: ROTC
3:45 p.m.: Shamelessboyz
6:30 p.m.: Devin and the Straights
8 p.m.: Kimi Hayes
Jun. 23: 11 a.m. - 9 p.m.
Price: $5 donation benefits the Northalsted Area Merchants Association
IN OTHER NEWS...
I went to the Cubs game last Friday. It was awful.
Not much more really needs to be said about it, but I give you what you want here. And what I imagine you want is a list of reasons why you should never go to a Cubs game. Seriously, if I was being held at gunpoint, I'd just take the damn bullet and hope for the best.
1.) Wrigley Field is a revolting cesspool
Listen, I know I'm a bit of a primadonna. I hate camping, I'm not super wild about getting dirty, but I certainly don't think dirt will kill me and I try not to complain. Hell, I've waded through ankle-deep garbage on Bourbon St. during Mardi Gras and had a great time. Wrigley Field, on game day, is easily as bad as Bourbon St. during Mardi Gras. However, I had the forewarning and presence of mind to not to wear sandals to the French Quarter. I was getting harassed by my two lovely companions (Brooke and Cortney) because I wouldn't just throw my garbage on the ground and wandered around for 10 minutes looking for a garbage can. And you know what? I didn't fucking find one. Perhaps this is why there is garbage everywhere, like snowdrifts against the sides of the bleachers. NASTY. Nasty nasty nasty nasty. When we left the bleachers, my toes were sticky and a peanut shell was stuck between two of them. Ew.
2.) Baseball is boring
I know I don't like baseball, but someone must have slipped me something wacky when I gleefully accepted the invitation to go to the game. No bother, it doesn't hurt to try something new, right? Granted, I did spend a good portion of the time we were there doing a crossword puzzle, to the unnecessary dismay of an old woman sitting behind us (bitch, mind your own business. Would you rather I were trying to break your hip instead of sitting quietly? Didn't think so.). I thought I knew at least a little about the game, but it seemed every time I opened my mouth, something amazingly stupid would come out. Apparently, baseball does not have a halftime. Nor are the points called "points", they are called "runs". And if you think there is a gaggle of policemen on the field, they are not policemen. They are referees. Brooke and Cortney mocked me mercilessly and got people in surrounding seats to laugh at me too. I didn't mind being the butt of jokes, as watching the game progress is akin to watching the grass on the field grow.
3.) It was hot and really really sunny
I can take the heat, but my pale shit bursts into flames in the sun. Not a huge problem, I just slather on many coats of spf 50 and huddle in the shade somewhere. The problem with heat and sun is other people. Specifically, male people who remove their shirts to expose a plethora of horrors. Rolls of fat, back hair (!), or the dreaded hairy chest/pierced nipples combination. I understand that MTV and globalization have conspired to bring fringe fashion to the sweaty, Wrigley field attending masses - and I don't much care. Punk died ages ago, and there is plenty of weird yet to be innovated. My only issue on this topic is that this new slew of weirdo wannabes does such a shit job of interpreting the punky fads. For chrissakes, I have never gone into a bondage club and seen men with pierced nipples who didn't also do the world a fucking favor and shave their damn chests. A furry forest with a few shiny rings poking through is not a good look. Shit, people, work with me here. Help me help you.
4.) Suburbanites
I have a theory about suburbanites, would you like to hear it? Of course you would! My theory is that certain breeds of suburbanites (ie the ones that only hike into the city for Cubs games or any and all old people) have a particular opinion of city folk. They seem to believe that city folk act like goddamn rude animals because it's the big scary city and they don't spend much time here. So, when in the city, they act like goaddamn rude animals by pushing and shoving everyone everywhere they go and not observing any type of reasonable courtesy. Courtesies like walking on the right side of the sidewalk, and not walking 4 or 5 abreast, effectively blocking the entire sidewalk. Also, not stopping and blocking the path of people on the street, trying to exit or enter barthrooms and bars, and not getting out of the fucking way when people ask nicely for you to do so.
The funny thing is that the suburbanites attempting to blend by acting like assholes only set themselves apart as suburbanite assholes. City people tend to be more courteous than suburbanites. This is because city people have no choice but to interact with a much larger amount of people on a daily basis than those shitbags tooling around the burbs in their SUVs and never spending more time on the sidewalk than it takes to get the morning paper or the mail. City people are more polite because it's necessary for all our collective sanity (or what tenuous grasp we may have on it). In summation, would it kill you to say "excuse me"? No, it won't, but I'll probably kill the next middle aged white man that rudely shoves me out of his way.
5.) I hate white people
That doesn't really require explanation.
Hanging with Brooke and Cortney was good fun, and Cortney's friends were delightful too although I can't remember their names for the life of me). I also like beer, and we had some.
Honorable Mention:
Erin and Jason's housewarming party last Saturday. There were thrills and chills and fun for the whole family, if your family is a bunch of shit-faced twentysomethings. I still can't get my new Latin Kings tattoo off.
Hey man, gay man, pick up the soap,
J-Illin
1 comment:
ah yes the parade, i unfortunately missed it this year, but i did manager to hang out with some people around clark. we actually went to go eat there. so many rainbows
and who needs sports? really now. i would have brought a book and read the whole time
Post a Comment