It’s good to stay grounded, good to be put in your place. Sometimes it’s helpful to be shown exactly where you stand. That’s why hob-nobbing with the fetishists is a must and can be as instructive as it is liberating. Liberating as in, “Wow, look how these people are so open and free with themselves, so honest about what they consider to be beautiful and erotic. I should try and be more free, dammit.” And instructive as in, “Whewwwwww, I thought I was fucked up! Good God, these people have got me beat by like forever. What freaks!”
The Folsom Street Fair (Folsom Street East in New York) is an annual BDSM and leather-bear-rubber-daddy-otter-cub-piss culture street fair that originated in San Francisco in 1984. From what I heard at New York City’s arm of the event, it’s a pretty wild scene out there. I was informed several times that the East Coast party is a much tamer affair than the big one out west. Like, you can’t just walk around with your dick out here in New York. I learned yesterday that that really gets people down. Guys were holding towels in front of themselves as an alternative, but I saw a couple of these towel-bearers going berserk because they couldn’t just let it fly and dangle.
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This sexual block party of leather, studs, nipples, back-hair, and butt-sweat is like a little kick-off for all of the gay festivities to follow this week and into next weekend for Gay Pride. It was a pretty fun time, but there wasn’t as much wild shit going on as I thought there would be. Nothing that really freaked me out. I did not make it inside the Eagle, however, (a leather bar on the same block as the fair) and I’m pretty sure that was where the real shit was going down. Don’t worry, New York, I wasn’t calling you inhibited or anything. We all still know you’re batshit nuts so you don’t have to go proving yourself any more than you do on a daily basis.
Oh, and to the people that don’t like this kind of thing, I’m sorry, but this is what you get when you try to repress human desire. It quadruples in size, grows hair, teeth and extra arms, then it comes to your house and has a loud party that never ends in your front yard. So, you know, learn your lesson already.
I took some pics for you.
I never saw what this turned into or what they did with this guy. I hope they didn’t put him in that bag. It was really hot out.
It was hot outside but not that hot. This is not sunburn, people. (guy with whip not-pictured)
“Mommy, why didn’t Uncle Tim come over for Father’s Day this year?”
Ha? Ha-ha? I don’t get it.
This guy is in the DON’Ts somewhere, I swear to God. And I think he’s standing the exact same way.
These people do not like hugs. But they do like Sprite. And cobwebs. Or something.
Will Hollywood ever tire of playing the Jewish card to sell movie tickets and win awards? This game is getting so old.