C-dog and Girlfriend On... The Mermaid Parade; Part One

Yesterday, Girlfriend and I attended The Mermaid Parade that's held every year at Coney Island here in Brooklyn. If you're unfamiliar, it's a lot like the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade, but with no budget, a nautical theme and an exponentially increased amount of titty. Basically, it's an excuse for people of all shapes, sizes, sexual orientations and shame levels to strip down, toss on some glitter, and boogie down a hot street near the ocean while being dry-humped by a tranny.

Naturally, we got pictures. Or, rather, Girlfriend got pictures. I can't operate a camera.

So here now, I present to you Girlfriend and I's tag-team take on Coney Island's Mermaid Parade:

NOTE: Some of these pics are NSFW-ish, but not too bad.



C-dog: Dork Cops!!!
Girlfriend: Oooh, rookie lost a bet!
C-Dog: Totally. We saw all variety of cop conveyance out there and these guys, unquestionably, were the as far down on the totem pole as you can possibly be without dropping off into the shameful world of crossing guards and lunch-room monitors.
Girlfriend: Not to mention the fact that the whole squad of cops present were there to crowd-control a parade of scythe-sharpening wackos.
C-dog: Scythe-sharpening, eh?
Girlfriend: Obviously the people in the parade spend a lot of time sharpening their scythes for the impending Armageddon. Duh. You didn’t get that?
C-dog: Sorry, not on my wacko game today, I guess.




Girlfriend: What is this guy supposed to be, exactly?
C-dog: Well, since the Mermaid Parade’s supposed to have a pervasive nautical theme, my only guess is that he’s the “girlfriend” of the Pirate ship? Or perhaps he’s the “saucy first mate.”
Girlfriend: He’s wearing boy-briefs and silver belt around his chest. How is that nautical?
C-dog: Hey, we don’t know what went on back then. Maybe that’s how they dressed when they’ve been on a ship for months and months. It’s hot out on the open seas.
Girlfriend: Also, it looks like he’s running away from the giant Astroland rocket. I’m going to assume that’s because he thinks it says “Astroglide.”
C-dog: Naturally.




C-dog: I know this is probably evidence of my deeply immature mind, but all I can think is, “Wow, that’s a big, candy-colored penis monster.” I know in my brain that it’s supposed to be a sea anemone, but my heart’s saying nothing but “dicks, dicks, dicks.”
Girlfriend: Just like always, right?




C-dog: These guys, I like. Very pretty, very creative, there’s not an overabundance of wang on display… a rarity among the parade’s offerings, to say the least.
Girlfriend: Jellyfishes…or giant nut sacks? You be the judge.
C-dog: I wasn’t going to go there, not after you called me out on my dick-minded thinking, so I’m glad you said something.




Girlfriend: Classy. But obviously not words to live by. Plenty of homeless people smell like fish.




C-dog: Check it out! It’s Kid Rock’s career from a parallel dimension!
Girlfriend: Damn, you took the Kid Rock reference out of my mouth.
C-dog: Sorry, there’s just no other way to go with this guy. The band, such as it was, was called “Erocktica,” by the way. Erocktica. Think about that; about the kind of people who would name their band "Erocktica." What’s not shown in this picture is the Erocktica floozy behind the ur-Kid Rock who had a tit fully out of her bathing suit without her knowledge.
Girlfriend: That would be the same girl who was trying to talk to the kids in the audience.
C-dog: That’s the one. God, I love Erocktica. They’re my favorite band now.




Girlfriend: Bitch stole my outfit.
C-dog: She can’t fill out a couple of large fry containers like you can, baby. No worries.
Girlfriend: You're right. I’m totally McGorgeous!




C-dog: I was going to make a sarcastic comment about this guy being underdressed, but I just can’t. The garishness has overridden the sarcastic part of my brain.




Girlfriend: Wouldn’t mind rubbing him with butter and lemon and crackin’ his claws. If you know what I mean.
C-dog: You like fully red dudes, huh?
Girlfriend: Yeah, he had me at “lobster-claw hat.”
C-dog: Well, I guess he does beat dinner at an actual Red Lobster.
Girlfriend: And either way, you end up with crabs.
C-dog: (rimshot)




C-dog: It’s Gandalf the Gay!
Girlfriend: Poor guy got lost on the way to the Lord of the Rings convention.
C-dog: You shall not pass… an all-male review without stopping in for a peek.
Girlfriend: No wonder he kept all his male hobbits close.
C-dog: Those books make so much more sense now.




Girlfriend: I’d just like to say that she was my favorite; no one dresses like zombie mermaids anymore.
C-dog: And it’s a shame too, because she looks so lovely.
Girlfriend: This is what happens when zombies and sharks stop the fighting and start the mating.




C-dog: Oh man. God bless this guy.
Girlfriend: He doesn’t even know there’s a parade going on. Such innocence.
C-dog: I kind of want to trade in my Dad for him. He looks so full of wisdom and life.
Girlfriend: He just looks comfortable, so unrestrained from society and pants.