Saturday, October 25, 2014

Fantasy Fest 2014, Local's Parade 2

Frances Street at the start of my favorite Fantasy Fest event (the kink fest at the Island House For Men is not on my radar).

A mobile bar complete with unbearably loud music all powered by a  a generator. Too bad they only dispensed gnats piss- Bud and Lite. Much appreciated nonetheless:
Hot cats:
 The effect was spoiled by the hairy legs. Just my opinion.
Fantasy Fest is all smoke and mirrors. I mean, who knew you  could buy a tattoo design top?

My mirror image when I'm out riding, chaps an old helmet and a big smile. Not forgetting the Yuengling...
Kids..? Not alone apparently. One would like to think they will grow up with a well balanced view of life. In all its variety. 
 Free range roosters or what:

I cannot imagine how this Monty Python character was planning to walk 12 blocks to Duval dressed like this:

This dude was  slugging a bottle of white wine, thank heavens for modern screw tops, but he advised his ex-wife, the head on the pole, was not partaking and did not approve. He was clearly working out some issues this Fantasy Fest.
 Really, who says Fantasy Fest is for adults only?
 Aside from the hat and the codpiece this dude, below was all paint and a smile.

 Couldn't not have an Ebola dude in all this chaos, now could we?


I tried to imagine Cheyenne a) wearing a  grass skirt and b) posing with me (also in  a grass skirt). My imagination failed me on all counts.

I saw this woman standing and  staring into the distance down Frances Street as I walked back to my Bonneville. She looked sad waiting for someone who had missed the parade and would never come. She told me she was actually holding the parking space for a friend and she laughed when I told her my thoughts. She liked my picture of her:
 I liked this lot, below, late to the party yet cheerful. Distracted possibly by their message.
I repaired to Sandys for a large con leche and some cheese bread. A funny thing happened an old Cuban dude was in line in front pf me and asked in Spanish if I wanted coffee, so I replied yes in Spanish, si for those of you language impaired, thinking he was asking about my intended purchase. Not at all. He whipped out a large plastic cup and a small plastic thimble and poured me a buchi from his colada. Serious caffeiene for a long night ahead. 
I got my con leche and sandwich and rode off to one more intense night in dispatch. I miss the long quiet nights of summer.