I live in a city that’s home to the largest Pride Parade in Florida. So sweet, right?
80,000 people turned out for today’s parade and street festival. Henry and I were among the masses. It’s the one place where I don’t have to worry about him making a scene.
We ate frozen yogurt that tasted like vanilla cake batter and Italian ice that tasted like mangoes. Joe ran a carnival booth for Creative Loafing Tampa. I tried (and failed) to win Clown Hole. Henry went home with a string of green beads, a lollipop and something so naughty my mother suggested I not mention it online.
I find it difficult to schlep my Nikon when I’m schlepping Henry, so I took pictures with Joe’s iPhone instead. I’m still too
stubborn lazy to do the Instagram thing, so for those of you who only like your pics retro-filtered and super hip, I apologize.
St. Pete Pride is best left unfiltered anyway.