The Girls. They never disappoint, do they? They mix the new stuff with my old faves seamlessly. They bring the crowd to a frenzy, of sorts, with their rallying cries. Aah. Good stuff.
I didn't realize quite how much I would like PrideFest. That emcee, Miss Pussy Willow, I believe, I'd just like to put him in my pocket and take him home with me. Fabulous with that big old wig. And who doesn't admire his loyalty to Techno-Tiffany? I, for one, appreciate him.
I think my very favorite thing about Pride Fest (besides all the time with my girls and THE Girls) was that pink baby doll tee bearing the words "I EAT" and a cute little sketch of a kitty cat. Now, if that wouldn't be both disgusting and misleading, I might just have to buy one.
Let me make one thing clear before I get to talking about the downside of P-F '09: I know exactly how hard it is to find love. I cast no stones at where others find it, or with whom. (Caveats: Please do not steal from others, fall in love with family members, or have romantic encounters with your pets--I'm looking at you, Travis the Monkey.)
That being said, I have to wonder why most of the women we saw were so willing to, shall we say, let themselves go the way they did. I expected to be among the few people wearing makeup. No problem. I'm referring to the bikini-top clad girls who had no business showing their nine-month-swollen bellies and their overlapping back fat. I know. I'm no one to talk about back fat, but at least I keep mine under clothes where it belongs. I don't even like to see it in the mirror. Certainly there is no room for exposed, jiggling back fat on the lawn of the Belvedere.
We'll be back for Forecastle (I'm already working on my hippie costume.) This time photography will be allowed. Can't wait!!
No comments:
Post a Comment