On Sunday I was playing Taboo at a friend's house on 5th Avenue. One of the target words my team had to guess was "bundle," one of the clues given to us being "sticks." This is how I came to yell "faggot!" near an open window as the gay pride parade marched past. Oops.
But, really, why were they still going at like 6pm? That thing started at like noon. I asked my friend what could keep the gays dancing for 6 hours nonstop in 80 degree heat. His response: "They're powered by pride. And Meth."
Ok meth I could understand. But pride? Seriously, there is nothing in my life I am that proud of. I could solve world hunger but after a couple hours of bopping around through the sweltering concrete jungle I'd be all, ok I need a time out because somebody better solve my thirst situation.
Later this week my friend sent me an email with the message "are you being bugged or something?" There was a link to Wednesday's Onion story: "Where Do Homosexuals Get All Their Energy?" Buddy, I'm sorry I dragged you into big brother's net; a line in the story reads, "So I ask, where do they get all their energy? Is it from all that meth?"