Yup, its that time of the year again girls and you know what? It looks like our favourite bitch Mother Nature has woken up and decided perhaps she might treat us to a day or two of hot weather, just in time! I love her really, after all, living in a cold country works for me, being a drag queen and all. Well, have you ever tried to get makeup to stick to your face on a boiling hot summers day? Forget getting it to stay on, you can’t even put the bloomin’ stuff on at all.

For some, Pride is all about the march, others, a great excuse for a big pink party (like an excuse is needed) and finally, for some, Pride is a state of mind. I for one, have only been to Pride twice many years ago. One Pride holds a special place in my heart for a very personal reason (no, not that sort of ‘personal’, getyer mind out the gutter please) – it’s where a friend of mine saved my life pulling me out of the path of a speeding bus that would have turned me into trannyjam without shadow of a doubt. Perhaps you could say I was born again at Pride? Perhaps I’m reading a little to far into it but, safe to say I had an awesome time dancing, drinking and doing all sorts of other things in excess that would no doubt make my mother gasp, not that she even knew I was there unless she spotted me topless podium dancing on the 10 o’clock news – if se did, she certainly hasn’t mentioned it to date. Probably for the best.

For me, Pride is as much a state of mind and an attitude as it is a party, I’m sure of course many of you feel exactly the same. While this party is the flag in the pink party calendar, every time I go out, partying or not, these days I’m at ease with myself and others whoever they are, however they feel sexually or what gender they are (there’s a whole grey area I learn more about the more people I meet) and treat others as I would have them treat me.

You live and then you die, if you can enjoy the middle bit your doing alright. Have a bloody good, flamboyant, outrageous, flirtastic, danceyersocksoff down right brilliant Pride.