I was searching for a word to describe this post, and I’m glad I settled on “roundup,” since it reminds me of some time I may or may not have spent in California attending a Gay Rodeo event. Anyhoo, the St. Pete Pride Parade came and went, and I’m proud to have been in attendance. What can I say? We had a gay old time. Kenwood is rad; even the creepy parts seem to take a holiday on Pride day. I almost felt comfortable enough to enter what I’ve come to refer to as “the scariest stab n’ grab ever.” Oh well, I guess those peach-flavored cigars will have to wait until next year.

Back to the parade. The parade kicked off with none other than Susan Stanton rocking the queen wave atop a shiny German automotive thing. She looked a little uncomfortable, which is ok; I mean, it was hot as balls for starters, and I’ve never been quite convinced that she ever wanted the changes to her privates to be so public. I’m sure there’s a fair amount of framing and strategy going on behind the scenes in terms of trying to spin her into an icon for the local gay community.

Speaking of framing and strategy, now, far be it from anyone here at the Splog to suggest that the Times might have a little issue with exaggerating and well, virtually manufacturing (big ups, Noam) controversy in our sleepy little town, but based on the coverage and “equal time” given to local jihadist, Larry Keffer and the implied army of protesters under his fiery command, I was seriously under the impression that at some point, the day’s festivities were going to involve a lot of plexiglass, faceless shock troops, a horse or two and a whole shit-ton of non-lethal projectiles and gassy things. For serious, I even had my bandito style kerchief, pocket guide to the Constitution and free legal aid bat signal in my bag.

Thankfully, none of these things were necessary. The most conservative estimates have the parade’s attendance at around 40,000, with, wait for it, about twenty protestors. That’s right. I saw Larry there, and he was with like three other dudes. It would be impossible for me to overstate his insignificance, and I think to talk about it any further would run the risk of continuing the error of suggesting that anyone cares about him and his bearish beard.

You know what they say about pictures, and I think if you’d like a quick, visual representation of the overall significance of the protesters to the event, nothing says it better than a lonely old man in a power chair, which, incidentally, he renamed the “Chair of Wrath” for the parade.

It’s true, kids, chapter one of How to win Friends and Influence People is entitled, “Don’t be a Bigot.” What a sad, sad dude. Geez.

On a side note, keeping in line with the Splog’s hatred of all things related to morning show DJs, those in attendance might have noticed one other minor incongruity in an otherwise good parade. Yes, those savvy provocateurs from 98 Rock’s Buckethead show decided to send two of their interns into the parade. In context, they were just two scared and irrelevant kids who would rather be playing beer pong and dreaming about fake boobs. That won’t matter, to the 98 Rock crowd, though, because the whole stunt will be repackaged with absurd amounts of compression and innuendo. Good work, kids! You’ve done the Lowest Common Denominator Society proud.