What a great weekend! Started off at Civic Center on Saturday.

This guy pretty much sums up the weirdness of it all.

No matter what, the hipsters reign supreme in San Francisco.

Somehow Toyota is always the one keeping the party bumpin’. I believe this is “Stuntin’ is a habit”.

Went to the Pink Party (along with every resident of the city, times four), at Castro and Market. Was having a pretty good time until I heard a series of quick claps from about 50 feet behind me. It took a second to realize they were gunshots, and I dropped. I’ve fired guns before, but this was quiet, muffled by the crowd. Turned around to see everyone streaming away from whatever had happened. I didn’t get a good look, because I was busy getting a dumpster between me and the shooter. The police converged pretty quickly, and I saw two police bikes dumped on the street, a body crumpled underneath.

Four ambulances and a host of squad cars later, I figured it was time to head home. People only a half block away had no idea it had even happened. As it turns out one man was shot fatally, and two others wounded in the leg. I’m hoping they’ll opt to pat people down for entrance next year, rather than shutting the whole thing down.

Sunday was a better day. The parade was exciting, better than any I’ve seen before. It’s always fun to see the mom & pop groups marching between companies struggling to out-gay each other.

Really, if you’re anti-gay… all I can tell you is to put your money somewhere else.

And Google had these cute Android shirts with the robot holding hands. Still trying to figure out where I can track one down!

And then there’s the church groups—who inexplicably have the best slogans.

The rest of the day I spent at Civic Center. Ran into Chris Robertson and the rest of the Stockton gang; met the Whoo Hoo Girls (possibly the most excited band of straight Indian girls I’ve ever seen), who demanded pictures with every gay boy they came across; and yes, was mistaken for a straight guy by a man colored the most peculiar shade of orange, and his almost too gay to function underage friend.

“You know, you could look really good, if you just dressed well.”

I didn’t have the heart to tell them.