Holy shitballs does my neighborhood smell terrible. On the upside, I had the perfect Pride experience this year. My best lesbian on one side, a Pride virgin on the other, all sitting comfortably in the folding chairs (with drink holders in the arm rest!) that we bought at CVS on a $12 whim before getting a spot in the shade. I love my city.
Literally. My neighborhood smelled like a bum’s ass after a long night of drinking and pissing on a hot summer day in Hell. It’s not even 9:30 in the morning and I already feel the need to rebathe and cleanse myself. You go, homos. You. Go.