WORDS BY: Anthony Gilét
While attending Gran Canaria Pride this week, it occurred to us that the ones who haven’t been before may be in for an eye-opening experience, so in preparation for our less experienced brothers (and sisters, hey girrrl!), we constructed this list of things you expect…
The Ropiest Trannies You’ve Ever Seen
And when we say “ropey”, we mean you wish they’d just use a rope to kill themselves so you don’t have to look at Sven Goran Erikkson squeezed into a size 18 dress made of sequins and sporting three strands of neon blue synthetic weave. Being from London we’re used to seeing the creme de le creme of cross dressers. But Gran Canaria, being a holiday resort, gathers transvestites from across the globe. Not really sure which part of the world it’s acceptable to wear a feathered wedding dress with Jerusalem sandals, but this is the backward shit you need to be prepared for. Picturing Lorraine Kelly with a five o’clock shadow with give you a very tame version of whats clicking around the Yumbo in kitten heels.
Bizarre Outfit Choices
Just wait… you think the trannies are tragic, honey, some of the queens are bigger disasters than 9/11. Just because you put a withered corpse in a harness doesn’t make it any less mummified. And just because Polly Pocket is your style icon doesn’t mean that a ‘boy’ will ever look good in a pink tutu. For some reason the word ‘Pride’ means you can just erase all memory of what respectable fashion looks like.
Every since Azalea Banks went ratchet on Rita Ora the terms “thirsty” and “basic” get thrown around like Jay Z in an elevator. But girl, when you’re wearing a cheap V neck from the two for £5 rack at Topman and sashaying around like you’re Maspalomas Next Top Model, you need to have a word with yourself. And a stylist.
People You Know From Back Home
This works in one of two ways; those you see but can’t be bothered to exert conversation with – keep it short, or just don’t stop walking if you really can’t stand the bitch. You’re allowed to courtesy pie as many cunts as you want, because you paid for this holiday – probably to get away from the likes of them. Or, people you never expected to see there, but are so happy they turned up and you’ll form a stronger bond between the experiences you share on the island. If it’s the latter, good for you sister! If it’s the former however, sell her a baggie of salt for 60 euro and laugh your way to the next bar.
If you’ve already outgrown your G-A-Y phase as a gay man (although to be fair, who does?), then this may not be your dream holiday. Even Paul O’Grady walked in to the Yumbo Centre and said “fuck this, girl”. The closest you’ll get to the ‘Ibiza Experience’ are the (cool) pool parties and the one nightclub that plays house music – but even then that’s pushing it. You could smother yourself in Mozzarella and it still wouldn’t touch the sides of how cheesy Sparkles is. Just have a shot and get on with it. Although if you wind up in somewhere that plays One Direction, you better make it a 4.5ml.
Sleazy Cruising & Unforgettable Sexual Experiences
Have you ever seen a dog in heat? Well imagine that dog took a shit load of G, couple grams of meph and a handful of viagra and you’re only slightly close to some of the horny gargoyles you’ll encounter over Pride weekend. Firstly, the toilets come with dark rooms like escorts come with intimacy issues. Even if all you want is a slash, it’s impossible to use a urinal without someone staring at your cock, and most of the time going in for a grab. Which, if you’re pissing next to Danny Cipriani isn’t a problem, when it’s Danny De Vito however… Don’t be scared to look that nappy mutha fucker in his boss eye and tell him to take a hike – and a breath mint. Of course, if you’re one of the toe-looking trolls, then this is an opportunity to take advantage of younger, hotter inebriated twinks.
The Walk of Shame is the main mode of transport in Playa Del Ingles. It’s basically a right of passage for anybody going to Gran Canaria Pride to wake up next to someone thinking, “ew, how the fuck did that happen?” My advice – blame it on the Spaniard’s free pouring and hail a taxi the fuck out of there before the ogre wakes up. But there are also times when you’ve snagged such an Adonis that you don’t even care about being kicked out his hotel in last night’s body glitter.
Thought muffin tops squeezed in to two-year old generic Aussiebums were bad form for a pool party? Spot the sister sloppabottomus that thinks a jockstrap looks good. Lord knows I’ve had some outrageous outfits in my day but for the love of Britney have some dignity. It’s bad enough we have to watch your saggy cheeks clapping while you mince back and forth to the bar, but we definitely don’t need to see your next bowel movement while you attempt to twerk.
Unbelievable Highs and Crazy Lows
Whether you’ve just blagged you’re way on to a float for the parade…
… or have double dropped in Mantrix before clucking your way around the dark room and then going under on the podium – perhaps it’s the foreign heat or perhaps the drugs cut with Speed but it’s a totally different buzz to back home. Of course, the universe makes sure this in balanced out. So maybe you’ll wanna stab the air hostess in the face for getting your order wrong because you’ve still barely slept and feel like a turd run over by a fork lift truck, or maybe you’ll just do a Rihanna and start ‘Breaking Dishes’ all over your crushes apartment because you saw him groping some gap-toothed hoe outside Coco Loco. Well, who’s loco now bitch?!
Pool Parties Galore
If you were wanting a relaxing holiday, bitch you’d of had more relaxation time during a South American Tsunami. There’s more or less pool parties everyday – and they’ll be lined with over-padded and oddly shaped packages – who knew speedos with a nappy shoved down the front were “in”? Oh wait, they’re not. You’ll find the occasional northern mess squiffing out on a lilo, blow jobs in the toilet, irrelevants from back home you couldn’t give two fucks about and STIs in the hot tub. Enjoy!