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NO I'M NOT GOIN, BRUH!


You Going to the Parade?

Pride- A feeling or deep pleasure or satisfaction derived from one's own achievements. Every time I hear someone say, "I love gay people" I want to punch them in a kidney. Expressions like this are symptomatic of overzealousness and are horribly transgressive. Really? You like ALL gay people? Don't get me wrong: I love quite a few. But I don't love every member of any group. But, You, asshole, have either met all of them (impossible) or you've accurately assessed the psychology of all of the LGBTQ community through a non-sample study (quintuple impossible, factoring in the idiots who say such things)? To say you love every member of a group as if they are all mascots out to amuse you, whether they be gay, black, disabled, dumb, tall, or a fucking dog, is to deny the individuality of it's members and, in truth, makes you sound like a bit of an asshole. I will not be attending the Pride parade. Granted, I am out of town. But, If I were home, I still wouldn't be there. Just like i don't go to St. Patty's Day, Bud Biliken, or Thanksgiving Day Parades. Or Wrigleyville. One of the inherent cross sections of any societal group are assholes. And they love crowds. I have known assholes of many colors, creeds, and sexual orientations. We can smell our own. Here's to the true nature of the Pride Parade. May the gay assholes find the straight assholes and agree to disagree with with every other asshole like me who thinks that these assholes are being fucking ridiculous.

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My First NYC PRIDE PARADE

The measure of a person’s happiness can be found in their feelings towards Mondays. Looking forward to Mondays means you’re doing it right. Or doing theatre… which is not inherently the same thing. America, then, has a long way to go. But this is Sunday. Pride. And we’re gonna enjoy both those things this day. And this year I’m on a float: the only way I would go. And they’re paying me. The most interesting image etched in my mind from on-high was the officer, a large white man in full riot gear with a giant grin on his face. I See him so potentially smug or potentially happy—and perhaps at home—made me happy and cheerful… then it made me sad. A bit angry. Confused... This was not the only officer of note. The myriad, stationed patiently at every intersection included: the indifferent salty-dog cops; incredulous put-off cops; amused, pleasant approving ones; the short tough butch female cops; a little boy in a cop uniform, maybe 6 years old, standing next to a supportive "white …

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