Living in the middle of downtown, right beside a private club, I see a
lot of tipsy formally-dressed couples fighting about where they may have
left the car, and none more adorable than a very flamboyant male/male
partnership I recently observed. They followed my path for about half a
block, and instead of the usual "just shut up and help me search", and
general passive aggressiveness, there was a lot more "bitch, please",
and sassy comments about the fit of each other's tuxedos. I realized, in that moment,
that hetero couples have an awful lot to learn about fighting.
When times get tough in the summer, I just remind myself that I've got a
sixer of popsicles in the freezer calling my name and I don't have to wear pants for three months straight, and my stress just
melts right away.
Ten days of plentiful shitty beer and
debauchery all over the city. For those of you who are unaware, the Calgary Stampede is a time when the average businessman's job is to slam shots of jack between barmaids' hooters, dudes let their "little cowboy" hang a little too fast and loose out of ill-fitting Wranglers, and many local
ladies adopt a "good girl gone bad" attitude, which is really just code
word for "good girl that has had too many cocktails to remember the
meanings of no and regret".
It's Stampede time. They call it " The Greatest Outdoor Show On Earth",
which I hold beef with, because I've seen De La Soul perform outside,
and that was infinitely better.
