Pride and Sweat

So, folks, I went to Pride day on South Beach this Saturday. Even though I had a mean hangover, I got on my bike and rode my achy ass out to support equality and a little bit of tackiness. Above, for instance, those are pillows, in case you were wondering. As ridiculous as they are, they, in part, made my trip well worth the discomfort. It's not like I want one, but if there were one in my house, I wouldn't be sad about it.

After the gayness, I travelled back across the bay and hit up Sweatstock. Sweat Records hosted a more than adequate showcase of local bands. I missed the earlier sets, which included Raffa, Jacuzzi Boys, Panic Bomber and Animal Tropical, but I caught Otto and the headliner, LA duo No Age. Overall, really great time. Everyone seemed relaxed and social. The usual pretension was not present, as far as I could tell. It was tops. Excited about next year's festivities!

Here the lovely Jessica and I entertain two drag queens.

There was, of course, the requisite Madonna impersonator. Couldn't decide if she was a she or a he. (S)he looked very convincing. The backup dancers are shes.

The nice sized crowd

As you might be able to tell (though up for grabs with some of these kids) this, below, is Sweatstock, which also boasted a really nice sized crowd.

The kids got rowdy for No Age, but my age and my inability to enjoy life over my headache kept me from jumping in. I'll be honest, I didn't jump in because I was too sober. There, I said it. The truth hurts.

Looks fun though, right?