I may stop speaking altogether......

So Saturday was Gay Pride in Belfast and man were they proud. The short walk to work was more colourful than normal and there were certainly more butch men in tiny pink tutus than one might normally expect to see on a Saturday morning. The look of joy and happiness on the face of those in the parade was in sharp contrast to the contorted faces of hate of the, ironically, religious protesters. But such was the pageantry and uber campness of the parade that they were, well, drowned out. That must have been a bummer for them.

got wood......?

The town was awash with people in fancy dress, I clocked at least three Spidermen, four Batmen, countless Wonder Woman's, and a whole raft Iris Robinson's. Must have been a rough day for her. Her perfectly moral ears must have been burning.

So it was no real surprise that I greeted a 40 year old chap at the restaurant door dressed as the cowboy from Toy Story. There he stood, all 5 foot nothing of him in his yellow check shirt, black and white waist coat, blue jeans, and little hat. He was supping from a bottle of blue alcopops that I don't remember seeing in the movie but everything else was spot on. Obviously such a sight would normally raise an eye brow or two but given the day that it was no one batted an eyelid. Now, I could have just asked how many his table was for but no, not me. Instead I opened with,

"Woody?" thinking that he would be pleased I guessed who he was. To which he replied, sounding like an Irish Alan Cumming who has been on the booze all day...

"Woody? Hell yes, but you'd have wood too if you saw those boys out there in their tutus. Here can I use your toilet?" And he cracked a very dirty laugh.

So obviously I went red, very red, and just pointed to the bathrooms and ran away for a smoke.

Ask a silly question eh.......