let me start this by saying, the world's largest disco ball looks quite unimpressive when photographed and cropped without any reference points. but there it is, and that's what it is.
for those of you not familiar with san francisco summer festivities, pink saturday is a large street party held in the castro, the culmination of san francisco's pride week (a gay/lesbian/etc awareness week of sorts). if you're in that community, i'm sure it is an even more fun even, but it is quite a good time even for poseurs like me.
of course, this was also the anniversary of my first pink saturday some years back, where on our first trip to the castro, dominic and i both experimented with something new that remains a lasting youthful indescretion.
(i'm referring, of course, to our first purchases of cans of sparks. how did this revolting beverage become so important to us? by being the only thing available at the only liquor store with standing room during pink saturday 2005, that's how.)
now that the innuendo is out of the way..
we started the day with an absolutely perfect bbq (timing and execution) in alamo square park, courtesy of mark (on the right). well done, sir! padday (on the left) is very proud of some "club orange" beverage he picked up at a british expat shop.
it's-its were produced, although ... ahem ... certain people didn't have enough to share.
here's padday again with the club drink, helping it into what would have been a good photo. i mean, he thinks it's people or something.
fortunately, this is the only shot of the day i appear in; a good thing, because i was rocking that bandana _all_ _day_.
julie's pad is about 2 blocks from groundzero in the castro: you know it is the place to be when the street is one of the ones fenced off for the night. at the bbq, and consulting only the drink in my hand, i made an absolutely uncouth announcement that she, despite being tired, would host all comers (with beverages) before the main event. here we are at her house, and julie being a trooper.
(other julie keeps a safe distance behind plant.)
oh, whoa, i didn't leave room to mention allie's new ink! more on this coming up.
here comes brian; i don't remember what was going on, but he clearly just did something to julie's shirt and is being a real smirky little wiseass about it.
frank chu: san francisco oddball; event popularity barometer; gibberish-hawker extraordinaire.
oh, yeah, so, what's up with that full chest tat anyway? well, first of all, don't worry: it's not the real deal, it is just marker.
anyway, times are tough in the city, and with school coming up, allie has had to take on a weekend job as a human greeting card. the pay isn't great, sure, but at the end of the day, it is always a treat to guess what particular greeting, congratulation, ironic joke or condolence she will come home scrawled in.
and speaking of ink, what a fine lot of it gabe has on his back!
gabe's generosity when it comes to drinks is the stuff of legends and long nights, and his sangria hookup tonight was clutch; you rock, gabe!
meanwhile, julie has seen where the night is going and is beginning to get cautious. mike, on the other hand, realizes the same thing.
in addition to kyla and some of her friends (who somehow all remained unpictured the entire night), the elusive dave was out and busting some rare dance moves.
as a dismayed passerby remarked, "it's alllways the white people [stealing shit]..."
the sun set on our evening with last call (weren't we supposed to be celebrating pride or something?) at nickie's in the haight. good night.