A pastiche of colours hit Leeds city centre like a tidal wave, an abundance of booze riddled the hottest people I've ever seen whilst drag queens merrily shouted profanities. Leeds was ablaze with festivity but within each of the stumbling members of the scenery lay a nugget of Pride for what had been achieved.
Lower Briggate vibrated with music as I teetered over the discarded streamers and tried to wink my way through a crowd of dancing, grinning and cool-as-fuck people of all ages. A hub of sexuality was formed and gender was nothing but a myth.
My friend leaned into me and said, "I love trying to guess which are the gay men and which are the lesbians."
You could choke on the honesty, sex, frivolity, openness, joie de vivre and the general air of I-don't-give-a-fuck. It all came from Pride.
...and maybe the opportunity to get laid too.
No ignorant cunt could stop such a fabulous hurricane. Not even with God on their side.
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It's admirable to be care free...
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