Post Murder Gras

. 

I didn’t expect much and I got exactly that, so it was perfect. I went down to watch the parade in drag and only got sneered at, jeered at, stared at and yelled at by almost everyone present. And I don’t mean in a “we love your culture and are here to enjoy it with you” kind of way. We have a long way to go! So I went home and had another drink.

Then another, and another and added some more lip gloss. 

I arrived at the party at about 11 after striding defiantly through the drunk masses. I was going to say trash but then I thought. No, don’t be like that!

I was handed a Gaydar Fan at the doors by an especially beautiful young beast and promptly threw it in the bins provided. A move which I deeply regretted a few hours later when I was standing in the heat hoping that my extra lip gloss wasn’t a bad move.

Standing in the tightly packed crowd waiting for the 2 o’clock show I complained to my friend that my face was about to melt clean off in the heat and I wished I hadn’t thrown away that fan. Two young poofs turned around and fanned my face ferociously and I had this strange sensation in my bitter and twisted old soul. Thanking them profusely and feeling suddenly very glad I had gone to Mardi Gras I realized I was having an uncharacteristic moment of Gay Pride. Thanks guy’s!!

Then I saw that David Campbel was wearing even more make up than me and I thought. If he can do it then so can I. Cindy Pastel looked fantastic and Dallas was radiant as expected but after that the show looked a bit like drag soup. Some boiling ocean of flailing arms.

I loved Johnie and Paul Mac’s set in City Live and had a good dance in there and enjoyed watching the terror on the face of one of the security guards. 

I missed Olivia because i couldn’t get into the RHI which I wasn’t particularly bothered about. Most people said I didn’t miss much and apparently anyone who encountered her up close was most unimpressed by her Diva antics, with one member of the press later telling me she was a “CUNT”.

Determined the see Cyndi Lauper I arrived in the RHI at about 7. I’m so glad I fought off the urge to go home by chatting to friendly strangers and spiteful bitches. I loved Cyndi’s show and then I loved strolling home across the park, watching the muscle boys in hot pants walking hand in hand across the perfect gay rolling hills.  

Happy Murder Gras! See you next year at the alternative party.