Happy LGBTQIA Pride, from the heart of the San Francisco festivities. I went to my house for the Dyke March. People came over, and dogs came over.
It was a bit much for me. However, a nice boy named Takeo gave me a lot of love until the other mother arrived.
The other mother walked me home among the throngs of vomiting revelers. In the midst of the crowd, on the corner of Church & 18th, I walked straight into it: the most beautiful bacon wrapped hot dog that I have ever seen, just laying there on the sidewalk, as if waiting for me. I couldn’t believe my luck. I seized the succulent dog in my teeth and proceeded to try and eat the whole thing on the spot. I got about a third of it chewed off, but it was such a big mouthful that it kept getting in the way of my windpipe. Gobble, cough, hack, repeat. The other mother had the gall to pull me away from my luscious greasy prize. She said I had had enough. The nerve of some people.
First of the evening: Gin Mare and FT Light tonic, with a squeeze of orange.
Second: Walter Collective and FT Bitter Lemon.