Marching in the parade is something everyone should do–queer or
straight–at least once in their lifetime. There wasn’t a single part
of the parade route that wasn’t surrounded by people: 500,000 people if
the rumours were correct. It sure felt like it. I was part of the Xtra
West contigent, all of us decked out in sailor caps, sailing the
streets of Vancouver in our boat float. Editor Robin Perelle and I were
in charge of handing out “Blow Me” whistles (tough work, but I was just
the man for the job). I made the people work for their Pride prize too:
I was spanked by about 100 or so parade goers in exchange for whistles
(my shout out to the lady at Beach and Nicola who licked her palm,
pulled down my short shorts and gave me what I asked for and gave it to

me hard – I love you, sweetheart, because you were 1 person in 500,000
that totally stood out to me). Take a look:

Congratulations
to Mark from Xtra – he handled the float this year and did a
wicki-wicked job. Thanks to everyone from Xtra who volunteered and
helped untangle whistles, danced for the crowd and kept the show
rolling.

Aside from breaking the float ten minutes into the
parade (with a couple thousand witnesses watching my fuck up – how’s
that for pressure?) and almost getting run over by it three times, I’d
still count the experience as a once-in-a-lifetimer. I also enjoyed the
hecklers, who took the time to shout things like: “Fuck you sailor boy
for not giving me a whistle.” Where, you guessed it, the only
appropriate thing I could say was “Blow me.”

Here are some of my shots and some photos that my sister took from the Parade. Enjoy.

The lovely Natasha, in the parade mustering area:

Happy Pride Day to me: