Every year, I make it a priority to attend NYC’s Pride Parade. Why? Well, because I am a proud ally, and while the gay community always shows up big for the event, sometimes I feel like not enough allies come out to support it. Also, it is, in my humble opinion, the most fun event of the year. But I don’t just go because I support the legalization of gay marriage in all 50 states. It’s much more than that. I’m there to support diversity, tolerance and individuality. It’s the one place where any person (gender, sexuality and race be damned!) can go and count on 100 percent acceptance. Wear what you want to wear, act how you want to act, be completely who you are, and everyone will not only embrace you, they will applaud you. It’s a celebration of self. And I enthusiastically support that. Here’s a picture my friend snapped of me doing me. Click through for some pics of the my favorite people at Pride this year.
Dear Pigeon Who Relieved Itself On My Head,
My scalp is not your toilet! Do you have any idea what it’s like to have have some good morning mojo going, to be steps away from arriving to work ON TIME (I’m not a morning person) only to be shit on by a winged rat? It sucks. I was rounding the corner to my office building, listening to Astral Weeks by Van Morrison, trying to feel a vague sense of well-being and spiritual connectedness when you dropped your load on my head. I prayed that the warm mess in my hair was just a big raindrop. But it was not raining. I put my finger in it and my nightmare came true. I ran into the nearest deli with a shit smear on my finger. I rode the elevator with your pigeon-y poop on my hand. People looked at me. I’m sure they smelled me. Or should I say, YOU. Keep reading »
This place really exists, and you don’t have to go over the rainbow to find it. You just have to hop a plane to Hokkaido, Japan. Just slightly easier than getting knocked out by a tornado and having a vivid hallucination. This is a visual representation of what my inner landscape looked like before that pigeon pooped on my head. Now I am trying to get back to here. Surely, no pigeons live in the his purple place. [Reddit]
I’m wondering, what’s the message he’s trying to communicate here? That he lives in the city of Bikini Bottom? He wishes! OK. Your turn. Give me one-liners. [justaboyx]