Hearsay doesn’t mean to state the obvious, but stating the obvious is something that must be done on occasion, particularly when Hearsay is looking for a way to write a Super Sized Pride Column. So here goes: Last weekend was Capital Pride. Hearsay hopes you didn’t miss it, because not only was the weather perfect (sunny and cool on Saturday for the parade, mild and overcast on Sunday, which meant no sun broasting), but the crowds were enormous. ENORMOUS. We’re talking bigger than Jeff Stryker, here. The boys were adorable and waxed, the lesbians were cuddly and unshaven, and Hearsay dare not make a joke about bisexuals or transgenders because it wants to keep its gonads intact. Hearsay, however, would say this to bisexuals everywhere: CHOOSE, DAMMIT, CHOOSE! Sexuality is not fluid! Sex, on the other hand, is one big puddle of sticky, slippery fluids and often requires a mopping up with Moist Towelettes.

For those of you still reading, let’s get back to the matter at hand.

Capital Pride turned 29 this year and unlike those horny adolescent cicadas which don’t use much in the way of either fluid or lubricant (they don’t need to, they come with spring loaded sex organs), it comes every year. The week began (for Hearsay, anyway) at the JR.’s Bachelor Auction last Tuesday night, June 8, where ten hunks were auctioned off to those willing to pay for their company and an accompanying prize, like a weekend getaway or a portrait sitting or a dinner for two at a fancy restaurant. Hearsay didn’t get the names of all the participating bachelors, because Hearsay was too busy dreaming of what fluids it could swap — like Baseball cards — with the gents. Hearsay lusted mostly after Eric, the 22-year-old JR.’s barback who kicked off the contest in fine form, and it also enjoyed seeing Michael in a ultra-slimming leotard. The most versatile bachelor of the evening was none other than the jolly Wisconsin giant A.J., who answered "I can’t decide" to host Lena “Vid-Kid” Lett‘s query "Are you a top or a bottom?" Either way, at six-foot-three, A.J. topped every other contestant. JR.’s general manager Dave “King of the Dollar Vodkas” Perruzza kept the evening moving at a rapid clip, ensuring that all the bachelors revealed their finest assets (not an unsightly one in the bunch) to the rapt crowd.

The following night Hearsay found itself at Apex for the Mr. & Miss Capital Pride Pageant. It was one of the biggest, grandest pageants ever, with nearly a dozen boys and girls and boys dressed as girls and girls dressed as boys competing for either title. The winners: Monet “Pink is the Color I Most Adore” Dupree and Bruce “Imagine That, I Like Pink Too!” Ashcraft. And because they won, Monet and Bruce were allowed to do the following three things: Ride in the Capital Pride Parade and wave to the adoring crowds. Stand on the Capital Pride Mainstage and wave to the adoring crowds. Look at each other adoringly and wave.

Skip, hop and jump to Saturday for the Parade. If you’re wondering why the Parade started late this year, don’t lay even an ounce of blame on the organizers. It was the fault of D.C.’s finest Special Ops division, who were tres tardy in closing the streets off to traffic. Once the streets were free of vehicles that weren’t supposed to be there, the parade got underway with many vehicles that were supposed to be there. In short, it was the BEST PRIDE PARADE EVER. Why? Because this year participants got a clue and actually created floats. Big, elaborate floats — such as the decibel-fortified Latinos en Accion float, which won the award for Best Overall, or the helium and hunk fortified Results the Gym creation, which won Best Float, or the gorgeous Mermaid-fortified Freddie’s flatbed, which boasted an enormous mermaid and lots of bathing-suited boys shaking their tight little bon-bons, some of which were even shaved for the occasion. Hearsay questions the judges’ choice of Best Theme to HRC, but maybe Hearsay is missing the point of a float comprised of nothing more than big yellow balloons, pre-printed signs calling for a Democratic uprising, and lots of frisky Stepford Teens with clipboards trying to get personal information (but thankfully not bodily fluids). Hearsay concurs, however, that the Best Walking — not to mention twirling, pirouetting and high-stepping — was enacted by D.C.’s Different Drummers. A close runner up would have to be Mayor Anthony B. Williams, who left the confines of his car and strolled up to the commoners, clearing enjoying the feeling of pressed flesh against his palm. Hearsay enjoyed waving to and being waved at by such political parade perennials as Jim “I Used to Run this Thing” Graham, David “Read My Alerts” Catania, Carol “What Am I, Chopped Liver?” Schwartz, Harold “Boys of” Brazil, Jack “Not Much You Can Do to a WASP Name Like Mine! Ha Ha!” Evans, Adrian “If I Were Gay I’d Be the Dreamboat You Could Never Have” Fendy and Phil “Touch These Pearls, Babydoll” Pannell, who gets Hearsay’s vote as the most glorious Democratic Delegate ever. Hearsay wanted to leap aboard the man-packed Cobalt/JR.’s/30 Degrees floats and shout “BJs for all!” but then it remembered that this day is not about sex. It’s about Pride+Vote=Power. Then comes the sex, complete with a multitude of fluids. And speaking of sex, Hearsay’s favorite parade moment took place when Ziegfeld’s Ella “Parasol Protected” Fitzgerald peeled one of her bananas and took a big, lascivious bite.

With the parade successfully over for another year, Hearsay turned its attentions to Sunday’s Capital Pride Festival. Tons of vendors, tons of organizations, tons of friends bumped into, tons of drama from Sophie “The B Stands for Beast” Hawkins. Yes, the earthy performer refused to relinquish the stage, insisting on extending her set forty minutes past her designated twenty. When informed that she must leave now please, she proceeded to let loose a string of profanities that made even an unblushable sort like Hearsay turn beet red and then proceeded to berate the Capital Pride folk in public. (She later reportedly fired her manager on the spot for the whole snafu.) Hearsay has this to say about Sophie: 1) Pounding on a bongo doesn’t take much in the way of talent. 2) Simone “Roust the Crowd” Denny was better. 3) As was Melissa “Fiercly Lesbian” Ferrick. 4) As was Ari “If I Were a Bling Bling Man” Gold. And all were gracious about their allotted time.

Hearsay enjoyed, as always, The Gay Men’s Chorus (also known as The Red Shirts) and the D.C. Cowboys (also known as the No Shirts). The D.C. Drag Kings were phenomenal as well. Such energy, such talent, such perfectly affixed whiskers. And let’s not forget the dazzling Joey O., he of Apex, who DJ’d the whole day long from the mainstage. Joey, you rock Hearsay’s musical world.

The Street Festival was extraordinary this year. Hearsay won’t pick a favorite booth but it will say that it enjoyed the beach bally baubles handed out by Evan “I’m So Incredibly Homosexual It Hurts!” Johnson and beau Tom “My Brother’s A Raging Heterosexual!” Bauer. Hearsay found that it one stuffed the balls in one’s pants, one attracted a new sort of groping man. And then one can shuttle said man over to the Leather Rack booth where one can stock up on lots and lots of free lube packets (those Leather Rack guys are so generous with their lube). After that, one is on one’s own.

Incidentally, Hearsay heard that one of its closest friends, the Mautner Project’s Kathleen “Don’t Fuck With Me, Fellas” DeBold — who rarely comes down to Pride because she’s too busy practicing safe sex techniques with Twinkies (the cream-filled sort) — showed her delightful mug (and she even showed her face too). And when Lady DeBold shows at your Pride event, you know you’ve made it. And if you can make it here, why bother going anywhere else?

That said, Hearsay congratulates everyone at the Whitman-Walker Clinic and the Capital Pride Festival for another pride perfectly done. But let us bow our heads and give special thanks to the tireless Director of Capital Pride Robert “Sleep? Who Needs it?” York, who serves his community with a passion that is genuine and a purpose that is true. And let’s also say thanks to WWC staffers Chip “Ster” Lewis and Andrew “What Am I, Gefilte Fish?” Litsky and all the Pride volunteers — including Larry “Here to Help” Stansbury, Larry “Here to Help, Too” Guillumette and Shawn, Kate, Marc, Jeff and Alana of the Entertainment Committee, who are reportedly going on the road as Ari Gold’s an opening act. They’ll be called “MmmmSync.” Maybe they’ll even headline at next year’s PrideÂ…