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So I Went To The Folsom Street Fair :: San Francisco

So I Went To The Folsom Street Fair :: San Francisco

They say “when in Rome,” but I doubt Romans whipped their slaves to heighten their sensual pleasures. Plus, I am sure the last thing you’d want to see after beating your laborers is them crumbling to the floor from an orgasmic coma. It’d be pretty counterproductive and smoke breaks would occur every 10 to 15 minutes.

In my 7 years living in San Francisco, I have never attended the Folsom Street Fair – mostly ’cause I just never had to. It’s a day that’s an excuse to let all your inner sexual ambitions out for the public to see. I’ve always heard of the urban myths that precede it, whether it be the public blow jobs, cane-like whipping seminars, and the countless nude bear-like men, but I just had to go to say I went before I inevitably move out of this city for good. Plus, figuratively speaking, this is top notch street porn for any photographer enthusiast. I only wish I had taken more photos.

I stayed near the main stage area where mostly women were on display. I was even asked by the MC hosting the BDM talent show if I was a “religious fuck that got my jollies off of taking pictures of fags, hags, and dyke queens!” I shook my head in bewilderment and just told him that “I just like taking pictures bro” and then he told me to “fuck off and masturbate to a President Bush portrait.” I’m a lover, not a fighter, so I shielded the rest of his sounds with my sunglasses and quietly told him to eat a dick while chewing my gum.

In a way, I get where that guy was coming from. Folsom Fair has fallen victim to the same issues as Gay Pride. Rather than promoting general awareness of the lifestyle, the day has become more of a spectacle for culture vultures to partake in. Though the intent is harmless, true followers would rather keep it core to the people would represent it properly.

So remember that next time when sticking a rubber ball in your partner’s mouth. When you whip them, do it with some sort of conviction! You’d make your fellow leather-clad masses very proud.

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