Pug Life

Posted: August 11, 2011 in Photography
Tags: , , , , ,

The Running of the Pugs, Trinity Bellwoods Park, Toronto. I still can’t believe this is a thing.

I personally believe that promoting bareback sex seems like something of an own-goal for the AIDS Committee of Toronto, but to each their own. A souvenir from the night before – of which I’m missing significant portions.

This community is protected by BIG CREEPY HOUSES WITH EYES.

(Maybe a watchful citizen can also tell me what happened to their verbs and prepositions?)

My first ever perogies! They were ok? I probably would have enjoyed them a lot more if I wasn’t concentrating so hard on not throwing them up.

A supermarket in Little Italy, picking up pug-race picnic snacks. Canadian apples freaked. me. the. fuck. out. No fruit should be this shiny.

Trinity Bellwoods. And pugs. Oh god, so many pugs. We actually arrived well in advance of the race, and sat at what looked to be a quiet bench but actually turned out to be the central hub of all pug-related action in the park. I can’t remember if it was this morning or the previous, but there had also – at some point – been a massive thunder and lightning storm that wreaked havoc over the city then disappeared almost as quickly as it had started. Accordingly, there was one huge, filthy puddle near our bench; which, of course, was where all of the dogs decided to congregate.

Pug face!

(She has one of me doing much the same thing.)

Emma was actually the one who put us onto the Running of the Pugs a few nights previous. I’d been preternaturally excited about it ever since.

Pug in a tutu I can’t even.

My new friend, Ollie! And suddenly I’m reminded of one of my favourite @gayboyproblems: “This v-neck doesn’t show my navel.”

Yurie is afraid of dogs. Bringing her to a dog race at a dog park was, thus, the best idea ever.

An especially, erm, handsome specimen.

Keeny McKeenster! My favourite part about this is that she actually wasn’t posing.

Nor was Chris, if you can believe it.

An apology for the previous picture. Weerrrrrk!
(Doubly hot in b&w)

I like it when you put things in your mouth?

Japanese Hudson Leick aka Callisto from Xena whaaaat?

Crazy pug people and their crazy pugs. I wish I had a mutant half-pug that lived under my skirt.

The Running of the Pugs is an annual event, organised by Toronto’s Pugalug Pug Rescue. You can see my video of the whole race right here. Lindsay also took the most wonderful photo at the word “Go!”

Yurie, making memories.

Adam later did a commendable job of wheeling his bike uphill without spilling a single drop of alcohol.

And then Chris went all GQ on our asses.

Haha, I love this photo of Emma. She looks so “Hey, girl, hey!”

And she’s worth it.

Yurie and Lindsay doing their part to debunk cultural stereotypes of Asians and cameras.

Chris and Adam doing their part to debunk cultural stereotypes of gay men and tank tops?

Pug Life: serious business. (Alas, Sir Maximillion came nowhere close to winning the race.)

En route to the harbourfront. And the pontoons. Pontoons?

Hello, pretty woman! By which I mean you are a whore.

Some more CN Tower lovin’. I am – at heart – a gigantic tourist.

This is the face of a woman who just discovered the final bus tour Chris and I could take was at 4:50, not 5:40. At 5 o’clock.

This is a different kind of face altogether:

Jjjjjjulien (it’s impossible to make a French /dʒ/ sound without resorting to IPA) met us after the race and joined our pilgrimage to the pontoons.

(Photo by 2G)

Lindsay told us we were going to Sobeys, and after walking 40 miles to the harbourfront, Chris and I were so excited to sit down and eat. And then we discovered it was a supermarket.

(It did, however, mean that I finally got to try Tim Hortons.)

Chris: I like that we’ve got a full range of hair colours.
Me: Yeah, everything from blonde to…none.

And then we stalked Emma home for a creepily long time. Along the way, we passed the Air Canada Centre and though I forgot to take a picture, know that another of my New Horizon 一年生 textbook dreams was fulfilled. We also had a…unique…encounter with a busker in the subway; who serenaded us with the most impossibly high-pitched voice and proceeded to follow us the entire way through the tunnel at Spadina because Yurie and Lindsay couldn’t contain their laughter. With an early morning (and our last full day in Canada) ahead of us, Chris and I then went back to our room to zopiclone ourselves into an early night in preparation for Canada’s wettest and most recognisable landmark.

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