Tag Archives: Gay Stereotypes

We’re Queer, We’re Here: Beyond Serving As Clickbait And Buzzwords, Our Voices Must Be Heard

No_country_for_queer_voices.jpg

A popular women’s fashion magazine recently celebrated ‘voices’ — trendsetters and change makers — with a star-studded award ceremony earlier this month. Did they deliver?

You bet they did. When a fashion magazine recognises and respects diverse voices, including ones that propagate feminism and body-positivity, they need to be congratulated. In fact, said fashion magazine even commended voices in the tech space.

Now this is where it gets strange. When a magazine awards every kind of voice there is, how do they applaud the country’s queerscape?

With complete radio silence. And it’s the same everywhere. Over the weekend, the country’s leading men’s magazine lauded content creators in the fields of style and culture. And yet again, they forgot to send queer voices a memo.

Why is this even more disheartening than it should be? Because over the same weekend, many a thousand miles away, the GLAAD Media Awards honoured various branches of the media for their outstanding representations of the LGBT community.

This side of the Indian Ocean, the problem lies in the complete indifference with which the media deals with homosexuality in general. Like the (now disgraced) king of Pop once sang, they really don’t care about us.

How do I know?

After a three-month-long email exchange with the (then) lifestyle editor at the aforementioned men’s magazine, she wrote back saying that the magazine (digital or print) didn’t have space for queer content. ‘Activism isn’t the scope of the brand,’ she drawled. ‘We aren’t sure how our audiences would react to something as sensitive as queer pieces.’

This was in 2017. For a magazine that regularly objectifies adrenaline-pumping men on its cover, doles out fashion and beauty advice, has an audience that consumes queer culture, and a taskforce of gay men that’s larger than my list of starred favourites on Grindr, what really counts as hetero-sensitive? What counts as important? What counts as a voice that needs to be seen, but not heard?

Sadly, things haven’t changed much in the last decade.

Half a decade ago, I got a call asking me whether I wanted to be part of a ‘label-breaking’ advertisement. Conceptualised by an award-winning director known for his indie work and independent voice, it was a #TimeToBreakStereotypes video campaign for a high-end luxury brand.

They needed an openly gay man for a bit role, and here I was, fresh out of the closet. It was Pride Month, and I was bursting to do my bit for the community (and more importantly, my 15 seconds of fame).

On the day of my shoot, I rushed over to the set with a fresh haircut and fresher hopes. Between a hurried costume change and makeup session, I excitedly peeped over the AD’s shoulder to read my character’s description on the call sheet; there were only two words:

Gay Two.

The fact that I wasn’t important enough to be ‘Gay One’ aside (in my defense, it was an androgynous supermodel), was this really what we had come down to?

Because if the urban intellectual can be so unsympathetic to an entire sexual minority’s problems, what can we really expect from the rest of the country?

See, because the Urban Intellectual™ is supposed to be smart and opinionated (but obviously not in a weary sort of way). The Urban Intellectual™ gives regular discourses on toxic patriarchy through their Instagram stories. The Urban Intellectual™ has lot of gay friends accessories.  The Urban Intellectual™ supports the #MeToo movement (until one of their own is called out). The Urban Intellectual™ posts memes about misogyny. (S)he is your online best friend. Your voice of reason. Your ally.

And they are everywhere.

At a meeting with one of India’s top internet media companies, I had the pleasure of being offered a freelance gig by the (then) editor. They needed new voices, she said to me — more inclusion leads to more introspection for the audience. I tittered. Was this finally our day of reckoning — when queer voices weren’t just typecast, but cast as frontrunners instead?

‘And you know, we could really use you at the office,’ she giggled, ‘Our office is so heteronormative, it gets really boring with all these straight boys,’ she laughed.

I blinked. I thought she was joking — solely because one of the main reasons I wanted in was ‘cause all the straight boys seemed so much fun.

She wasn’t. And that’s when I felt like the joke. Because it doesn’t just stop at intellectuals and (the occasional) Instagram influencers.

See, queer men and women have forever been paraded in campaigns and draped in click bait. I’ve personally been asked to ‘be gay’ (for the camera) and ‘write gay’ more times than I can count. Can you write something bitchy? Can you write something scandalous? Can you ruffle some feathers? Can you shock our audiences? Can you be the person we want you to be?

I’m not denying that being fabulous is fun; I am just saying there’s more to queer culture than our sartorial choices and sass.

The truth is that people really aren’t looking for queer voices; they are looking for queer click bait. Gay culture will always be trivialised and tokenised, treated as a SEO trend right around the time of Pride Month (and marches) or worse, Valentine’s week. Which means that as you read this sentence, thousands of companies have taken down their rainbow flags and pushed their glitter glue supplies back into their office back rooms. Queer campaigns have been dismissed (much like queer folk), or pushed to June when LGBTQIA+ rights suddenly gain traction with International Month of Pride.

Two years ago, a popular bar franchise turned my date and I down at the door, because ‘only couples were allowed, and no stag entries were accepted’. Well, that seemed like it. I meekly shrugged and told my out-of-town date that we’d have to find another bar that sold alcohol at fluctuating low prices. But he wouldn’t have it.

Drawing himself upright, he stared the testosterone-pumped bouncer (who was twice his size) down and told him that we were ‘two boys on a date’. The man sneered at us, saying ‘rules were rules, and unless we found a girl, they wouldn’t let us in’. I hastily muttered an apology, and pulled my friend to a friendlier bar; the drinks weren’t cheap, but neither was the staff.

This is ironic, because a year-and-a-half later, they celebrated the Section 377 verdict with a #LoveIsLove offer on the day of. Touché, right?

I’ll tell you a secret.

Queer voices don’t necessarily need appreciation, they need to be acknowledged. We don’t necessarily need a provision for an ‘inclusion rider’, we just need more inclusion (that goes beyond the norm of introducing one queer archetype in your videos for the sake of checking the diversity quota). See, we aren’t asking for a spotlight, we are just asking for a platform. There’s a whole world of queer content out there that goes beyond the story of how we came out (side note: I’ve come out so many times for the media, my coming out story has a coming out story). It’s going to be a long, arduous journey, I know it. But the least we can do is hope.

Until then, you can just hand us the microphone.

I promise we won’t drop it.

Made In (Gay) Heaven: A Queer Man’s Guide To The Amazon Prime Original

IMG_4939

Amazon Prime’s Made in Heaven dropped its full season on Friday, and I won’t be lying when I say that I was a tad bit apprehensive about watching the show.

Excited, yes. But also very apprehensive.

On paper, it seemed too good to be true. Created by Zoya Akhtar and Reema Kagti who helmed the iconic (and my eternal favourite) Gully Boy? Check. Starring a cast of good-looking actors with even better acting chops? Check. Exploring (but not mocking) the inner recesses of Delhi’s upper-class elite? Check. Lots of sex, drugs and rock & roll? Check. Just about every commendable indie actor gracing the guest cast? Double check.

Like I said, the show could be every Bollywood junkie’s wet dream (come true) – because it looked like it had everything. In fact, if this were a boy, I would have wooed him with flowers, and taken him out on a La La Land-inspired date.

But that’s the thing. Like most boys I’ve dated, this had the potential to blow up in my face (no pun intended). Why?

Over drinks many months ago, an anonymous insider told me about a WIP wedding-themed show with a meaty gay character (who had a meatier storyline). Said anonymous insider had thought it would make me happy.

I had only sighed.

In the past, Bollywood’s treatment of homosexuality has been both over-the-top and under-the-belt – queer men have been packed in bright florals and skintight trousers, only to become cookie-cutter caricatures of themselves. I honestly don’t mind the flamboyant stereotype, but contrary to (most of) Karan Johar’s films, there are more queer sub-cultures that are waiting to be voiced.

True, the 2019 cycle of representation has been iconic – from Shelly Chopra Dhar’s ‘Ek Ladki Ko Dekha Toh Aisa Laga’ exploring a lesbian love story, to Sridhar Rangayan’s ‘Evening Shadows’, a touching tale about a city-bred man coming out to his small-town mother – but they came with their fair share of triggers. Take the former, for instance – where the central voice of the reason in a queer narrative is still a CIS heterosexual man. A nice understanding man, but a CIS man still the same.

So you can imagine my apprehension when I jumped right into Made In Heaven (armed with a bottle of wine and Chinese takeout) with an open mind and a heavy heart. Did it make the cut?

It didn’t just make it; it nailed it.

Without giving away too many spoilers, Akhtar and Kagti’s Made In Heaven is the most honest representation of Delhi I’ve ever seen, coming a close second to Anuja Chauhan’s fascinatingly funny ‘Those Pricey Thakur Girls’. The number of things I liked about the show would make this sound like a love letter, so I’ll stop (because I never know how to deal with unrequited feelings).

And that’s one of the best compliments it can get.

Made in Heaven is a binge worthy show about rich society wife Tara Khanna (Sobhita Dhulipala) and her gay business partner/friend Karan Mehra (played effortlessly by (a rather straight) Arjun Mathur (I know because I checked), who solve cases plan weddings, while dealing with the trials and tribulations of their own personal lives – philandering husbands, snoopy landlords and bone-breaking loan sharks, to name a few.

And this is where Arjun Mathur steps up and completely changes the game as an actor playing a strong, sensible gay man. For a character to shine in such a giant crowd is commendable, especially since there hasn’t been such an all-encompassing cast since the Game Of Thrones series. So how does his queer representation appeal to the mehendi-wearing, Marlboro-smoking queer man in me?

Because he could be anybody. He could be your brother. Your friend. That popular kid from school. The class bully. The owner of your favourite jazz bar. For all we know, he could even be your wedding planner. And Karan Mehra is all of them. He’s your everyday gay man™.

The everyday gay man™ plays video games with the same enthusiasm he shows in attending queer soirees. He flits in and out of V-neck tees, but wears bespoke designer kurtas to engagement parties. He loves his wine, but he drinks beer too. He struggles with coming out to his parents, but he’s also struggling with debt. He has sex (full fledged #NSFW sex, but not too #NSFW because I know my mildly conservative mother binged the show without batting an eyelid) with lots of lean, toned attractive men, but feels lonely without his ex.

But hold on, the show isn’t just about aesthetically pleasing queer men having (aesthetically-pleasing) sex with each other. It’s about so much more.

Because MIH doesn’t just toy with the idea of a queer storyline; it polishes it and puts it up on the mantelpiece proudly, for the whole world to see (and give coveted looks at). And there’s no token gay man here, there’s an entire spectrum of gay men – gay men who are about to be married, gay men who are already married, gay men who are in same-sex marriages, and gay men who never want to get married. For a show that’s heavily built on the premise of wedded bliss, this seems like an inside joke that we are all privy too.

And then the show does something else.

It dwells deep into a world that’s still not rid of Section 377, and brings queer culture (and rights) front and centre; in a way very few movies (or Indian television shows) have done in the past. And before you know it, you feel the scary repercussions of the age-old draconian law as it pushes the main character into a plot that we all need, but don’t deserve.

Suddenly, he’s the central hero (or anti-hero, based on how you look at the string of broken hearts and broken men he leaves behind) – coming out to his parents, owning up to his life and taking a stand for queer rights, all in a span of three episodes. The beauty of Made In Heaven’s queer narrative lies in the fact that Karan’s character is never a bumbling sidekick or the token comic relief; he’s the main lead.

Akhtar, Kagti and Alankrita Shrivastava’s writing constantly challenges the norms of love, relationships and marriage, but they seal the deal with their conversations on sexuality. The coming-out sequences are as gut wrenching as they are heartwarming, and while his small talk with his various paramours makes for great television, it’s Karan’s final conversation with his closeted landlord (played by Vinay Pathak) that steals the (wedding) cake.

Made In Heaven makes gay people what the media has never managed to do – it makes them real. And if this is the path they have chalked out for a second (and hopefully, future) season, I’ll gladly walk the aisle with them.

Conclusively, if I have a question for the makers of the show, it is this – how (and more importantly, why) do all the queer men in the show look like they ‘ve stepped out of the cover of GQ magazine?

And secondly, if and when I plan to get married, how do I get the fictional ‘Made in Heaven’ company to come plan my wedding with one of these aforementioned men?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Film And Fabulous: Finding Queerness in Bollywood in 2018

IMG_4750

 

I usually like spending my Sundays lazing around like a cat. It is an occupational hazard of being a millennial.

This past weekend however, I decided to give my weekly catnap a reprieve, and trudged halfway across the city to watch a matinee show of India’s latest chick flick (which is not a chick flick), Veere Di Wedding.

Armed with a tub full of caramel popcorn and a soda that had more calories than I could count, I sat down to watch the movie. It was refreshing, it was funny and it was full of actresses I have a boy crush on.

Twenty minutes into the movie, (SPOILER ALERT) they revealed that Kareena Kapoor Khan‘s beloved on-screen uncle (played by my childhood favourite Vivek Mushran) is gay. In fact, he even has a thriving relationship with a loving partner. But something seemed off.

Then the ‘little things’ begin to irk me. The way Cookie (yes, that is what they call him) uncle stuck out his little finger while holding his drink. His partner’s floral shirts. His hand gestures. His over-the-top display of affection in a song-and-dance sequence. Their shared distress over the wedding invitations. Their need to be fun. The tiny things. The insignificant things. The irrelevant things.

I am not saying I did not like the movie. I did, I really, really did. For two and a half hours, I was transported into a make-believe world of first world problems, smokeless cigarettes and rampant brand promotion.

But I expected more.

See, if this were a Sajid Khan or a Luv Ranjan production, I would not have had a problem – their homophobic characters will forever be overshadowed by their highly misogynistic plotlines.

But this is different.

Because when a movie has been directed by Shashanka Ghosh, and features a cast of A-list actresses and veteran actors (including the men who play the gay uncles, Vivek Mushran and Sukesh Arora) who have given us A-list performances, this sort of representation just seems like a giant letdown, especially when all their Instagram feeds are clogged with rich, influential gays who do rich, influential things.

Do not get me wrong. The transition of queer representation from the bitchy, manipulative fashion designer (it is always a fashion designer) to the fun, understanding uncle can even be considered as the harbinger of the #EverydayPhenomenal – but is it enough? (Side note: Mildly altering the pathbreaking words of Miranda Priestly, ‘Florals for queer representation? Groundbreaking.’)

Did the uncle have to be gay? Did it further the plot? Did it further his character?

The movie has a star cast that boasts of equal parts nepotism and new-age indie actors (which I have been told is the fail-safe formula for any Bollywood blockbuster), an amazing soundtrack and dialogue delivery that will leave any mother to shame. But with a new brand being introduced every 10 minutes and no real plot development for the (not one, but two) erstwhile gay characters, the movie may very well have been a giant YouTube ad that you cannot skip.

And I could not.

‘Why are you getting so offended?’ My friends asked me. ‘Why do you think it is wrong? What else were they supposed to do?’ My rant had only started a series of whys and whats – ‘why don’t you hold your horses? What’s your grouse here? Why don’t you just watch the movie? What do you want them to do? What else could they have done? Why don’t you calm your tits?’

Well, why don’t you just shut up?

The gay man in Bollywood has become the token black guy in every white movie. A background prop, someone (or something) that makes the movie seem ‘more inclusive’ – like brands that scurry to make more LGBT-friendly content during International Pride Month.

But then again, when was Veere Di Wedding not a shameless brand plug-in?

It is 2018, and it should be getting better – people say it is too trivial to hold silent protests and candlelight vigils over ‘such things’. Too much effort. Too hipster. Too mainstream. Too unnecessary.

But is it really too much?

In the past decade, Bollywood has barely scratched the surface of LGBTQ+ depiction with caricature-like portrayals of gay men who were either camp (and therefore ‘less’ than the cis-hetero men who sidelined them) and/or hypersexual (playing on the fear that gay men were out to steal your testosterone-pumped husbands, boyfriends and next-door neighbours).

You would see it everywhere – laced as the fiercely flamboyant principal in Student Of The Year, the bitchy model coordinator in Fashion, the boyfriend-stealing best friend in Page 3 and the obviously-straight-but-pretending-to-be-gay leads in Dostana (2008). Gay men were, therefore, background props who became the butt of all jokes (excluding this one.)

Sure, Veere Di Wedding changed all of it. It made the gay characters positive – fun, witty, fashion-conscious men that women are drawn to for emotional support and douchebag-related dilemmas. But did they have to be gay?

I will tell you a close-guarded secret. These overly ‘positive’ messages, which you see a lot in the media – that gay men are particularly fashion-conscious and bitchy, and a woman’s ‘gay best friend’ – can be extremely pressurising. But why should we make do with token gay characters, pushed to the background as comic relief or a pleated pants-wearing plot device? What if we want to be serious and boring? What if we want to be a part of the everyday?

Packed in floral shirts and skintight jeans that seem to put the respiratory system at risk, we have only become cookie-cutter (no movie pun intended) representations of ourselves. I really don’t mind the flamboyant stereotype because it is honestly not a stereotype – but is it our only form of representation?

With movies like Call Me By Your Name and Love, Simon (both of which did not see theatrical releases in India, so here is a shameless plugin to #ReleaseLoveSimonInIndia) where LGBTQ+ characters are not just nuanced and layered but also pushed right to the forefront as movie leads, Hollywood has taken a giant leap in showing its support for the rainbow movement.

And that is only in the past eight months. So why should Bollywood trail behind?

The problem here does not lie with Veere Di Wedding, or even Bollywood, in hindsight. The problem lies in the complete indifference with which the Indian media deals with homosexuality in general.

A few years ago, I had the opportunity to be part of a ‘label-breaking’ advertisement. Helmed by an award-winning director known for his indie work, it was a #TimeToBreakStereotypes video campaign for a high-end luxury brand. They needed an openly gay man for a small bit role, and here I was, fresh out of the closet. It was Pride Month, and I was bursting to do my bit for the community (and my 15 seconds of fame).

On the day of my shoot, I drove over to the set with a fresh haircut and fresher hopes. Between a hurried costume change and makeup session, I peeped over the assistant director’s shoulder to read my character’s description on the call sheet: There were only two words.

Gay Two.

The fact that I was not important enough to be ‘Gay One’ aside (in my defense, it was an androgynous supermodel), was this really what we had come down to?

Because if the urban intellectual can be so unsympathetic to an entire sexual minority’s problems, what can we really expect from the rest of the country? Is it because of the instant dismissal of any character that is NOT the quintessential straight male lead? Or is it because the film industry fears social backlash for making a movie with strong, affirmative gay leads?

Or maybe the two reasons are the same thing.

But I still feel like we can do this. We are queer, and we are here (and to quote a fabulous friend, we are not going anywhere anytime soon, dear). The time is ripe for some fresh, realistic portrayals of queerness in Bollywood. Someone who has aspirations. Someone who has problems. Someone who likes Sunday catnaps.

Because if the LGBT+ community can step out of their closets, it is high time that Bollywood should too. I can personally vouch for the fact that the wedding sequence will be bright and glorious.

The Guysexual’s Guide To Every Diva In The World

kardashian

There’s a popular misconception that all gay men are divas, but as a marginalised group, it is no surprise that they are often characterised stereotypically. Prior to the past two decades, gay men’s portrayal in the mainstream media has been rather minimal, and when they do make it to the screen, their characters are constructed out of clichés.

‘Oh! He wears prints?’
‘He must be a diva.’
‘Could you hear him cackling all the way across the room?’
‘Definitely a diva.’
‘Who else can carry off bubblegum pink?’
‘That’s diva 101.’
‘How else can he be dressed to kill every single time I see him?’
‘He wrote the Guide To Being A Diva, I tell you.’

But that’s the thing. The Diva is not necessarily your man of fashion – he’s not the stereotypical fashion designer or the bitchy stylist you meet at the bar. The Diva hides in plain sight, he’s everywhere: the accountant from work, your next-door neighbor, your friend’s colleague, the jock from high school, you.

The Diva is like Batman – an ordinary man by day, a caped crusader (albeit with pleated pants) by night – only this vigilante rids the world of bad manners and bad dressing sense. Want to know how to sort out the fabulous from the fabulist? Here’s the Guysexual’s guide to every gay diva in the world:

*

The Diva says things like, “We’ve got the same numbers of hours as Beyoncé does.”

He actually believes it.

*

Perpetually 26, his Sundays are Instagram-ready hours of lazy brunches, infused cocktails, and Pinterest-worthy desserts that he swears he won’t take a bite of.

The Diva will call you ‘his cookie’, but we know he wants to bite you.

*

The Diva’s favourite adjective to describe himself is also his most-searched word on Google: flawless.

*

The Diva quotes Diet Sabya.

*

The Diva feels that hipsters try too hard. He also splits up his styles into nine different categories: Formal, semi-formal, casual, semi-casual, street-chic, party-chic, disco-chic, somber and straight acting.

*

The Diva air-kisses and airbrushes so much, he can list it as a skill on his LinkedIn.

He probably has.

*

The Diva eats quotes by RuPaul for breakfast. He washes them down with a no-foam, soy milk latte and sarcasm.

*

If the Diva had longer hair, he’d flip it more often.

*

The Diva has an intense seven-step exfoliating ritual. Nine, when he’s going out for drinks.

*

He won’t drink beer, because a pint is the equivalent of seven slices of white bread (which he won’t touch). On days when he wants to let loose, he’ll have a few gin and tonics, and load them up with cucumber slices or almond bitters.

But he’ll tell you that a ‘Skinny Bitch’ is his official go-to drink. That’s also what his friends call him behind his back.

*

The Diva scrolls through Gigi Hadid’s Instagram feed at the dentist’s.

*

The Diva plans to start a crowd funding campaign to bring the Queer Eye boys to India. He has quotes by Jonathan Van Ness up on his wall. It’s all very tastefully done.

*

The Diva rates the boys he dates. He has a 4.2 rating on Uber.

*

The Diva likes his drama just the way he likes his A/W Fashion Week: with access to front row seats.

*

At least five supermodels call him their best friend, and swear that they’d die to see him in a fulfilling relationship. They wouldn’t try setting him up with any of their other (read: obviously less close) gay friends though.

*

One time, he sat next to an A-list actress on an airplane, and she told him ‘he was very pretty’. He’ll tell you it was Priyanka Chopra, but he told somebody else that it was Sonam Kapoor.

*

The Diva can’t decide whether he’s team Madonna or team Cher, but secretly, he’s team Britney.

*

The Diva hates sapiosexuals. He thinks they wear their attitude wrong.

*

The Diva might be clueless about stock options, but he can reference any shoe brand by their make and catalogue number.

*

The Diva has a RompHim jumpsuit in his online shopping cart. He plans to buy it for his birthday.

*

The Diva likes to call his aesthetic sense ‘quirky’. His haters (that’s what he calls them) seem to think it’s more ‘whimsical’.

*

The Diva references Keeping Up With The Kardashians on a regular basis. Over multiple bottles of Moet Chandon and bite-sized nibbles of overpriced cheese, he’ll tell you he feels like a ‘Khloe’. But he’s a Scott Disick.

*

The Diva Instagrams his takeaway cup of cold brew coffee every morning because he thinks frappuccinos from Starbucks are ‘too mainstream’, unless it’s a Unicorn frappuccino.

*

The Diva dreams of marrying the Boy (it’ll be a white wedding), and he regularly leaves thirsty comments on his Instagram feed. They always go unnoticed.

*

With his undeniable wit and free-for-all sass, the Diva is every straight girl’s wet-dream-come-true: because he’s a fashion-spouting sounding board that she doesn’t even have to friendzone. Like they say, he’s the perfect summer accessory.

I’ll tell you a secret? The Diva feels the same way about her.

The Guysexual’s Guide To Every Fuckboy In The World

Fuckboy.jpg

Kartik, 28 (my copywriter friend who gets a mention every few weeks) matched with Atul, a senior associate at a top legal firm, about two years ago. They bonded over their love for bad puns, great gin and the fact that they were both self-proclaimed Ravenclaws. What could I say?

Wit beyond measure led them to each other’s treasure trails.

For Kartik (as is usual), it was love at first swipe. Like most millennial love stories, it had its (mostly) highs and (many) lows. But something still seemed wrong — the dates were always at home, friends were never involved and future plans were never made. Their trysts started late, but Kartik was never invited to stay the night (including that one time when he puked all over the bathroom floor).

It seemed strange, but Kartik (being Kartik) decided not to second-guess things. He continued making bad puns, and drinking great gin. Why wouldn’t he?

Atul was a great many things. He was smart. He was handsome. He was successful. He was charming. He was a dipsomaniac.

Atul was also a F**kboy.

The quintessential f**kboy (just like Atul) is not always very easy to spot, considering his adaptive nature and ability to blend in. The F**kboy is everywhere (and more importantly, anywhere). Smiling behind you at the checkout aisle in the supermarket. Making googly eyes in the subway. At the library. In your poetry class. In the bus. At the local pub. In your untouched list of Tinder matches. Anyone who’s traversed through this giant desert of dating knows that finding a F**kboy is like finding a wild Rattata on Pokemon Go — it’s that common — which makes avoiding them that much more difficult. Want to know how to bypass the boys that most bad decisions are made of?

Look no further, kids. Here are some telltale signs the guy you are hopelessly crushing on, only plans to crush your heart after:

The F**kboy only messages you post midnight.

He’ll never disappoint.

The one time he messages you at 8 pm, is simply because his flat mates are away.

He drinks his cold pressed juices straight out of the carton.

Just like he drinks his pre-mixed cocktails straight out of plastic bottles.

The f**kboy is an amalgamation of bad pick-up lines, expensive perfume and template text messages that he broadcasts to his little black book of men.

All three have high success rates.

He hoards up on all his used condom wrappers, because ‘how else will he know that he’s the supreme sex god that he claims to be?’

He addresses you as his bro. Even when he meets you in person.

And he doesn’t mean it in the endearing “I-am-so-comfortable-around-you-I-can-call-you-anything’ kind of way.

He’s always vague about his Friday night plans.

But he already has advance tickets for Tomorrowland 2019.

The F**kboy doesn’t snuggle. He prefers the post-coital smoke to the post-coital cuddle.

His idea of the perfect date includes drinks at a dive bar, and dessert back at his place. Dinner is usually not a part of the deal, unless you offer to eat it off him.

He wears his charm like he wears his signature perfume.

Bottles of it at a time.

He introduces you to his friends as a ‘friend from work that he bumped into’.

Eight months into knowing you. You never see them again.

Or all his friends know who you exactly are, but they act like they know something that you obviously don’t: that he’s seeing other people.

He’s always busy when it’s time to meet your friends.

Once it was his dog’s funeral. Twice it was a late night at the office.

And thrice, it was his mother’s birthday.

In the same year.

The F**kboy rolls up his shirtsleeves to just below his elbows, because he likes to live on the edge.

He likes to drive with his windows open, and uses styling mousse so that his hair doesn’t look ‘too windswept.’ Sometimes he doubles it up as lubricant.

He never lets you stay, and has an excuse ready every time you suggest pulling out your jammies. Sometimes it’s a early morning gym session at 5 am. Sometimes it’s an over inquisitive maid who can’t mind her own business. Sometimes it’s an Uber he booked for you when you were cleaning up in the bathroom.

He likes his boys just like he likes his chardonnay.

Free flowing, and out of his system the next morning.

He doesn’t see the point of crossword puzzles, middle school trigonometry or commitment.

He downloads Grindr Xtra just so he can get unlimited blocks.

And an unlimited pass into everyone’s pants.

At some point in your relationship, he’ll tell you that you are the One.

He’ll also tell the same thing to Rizwan. To Sam. To Kabir. To Nikhil. To Rahul. To Kiran. To Sameer. To Zishaan.

He breaks up with you eventually, because ‘he’s not good enough for you, and you deserve better,’ He doesn’t reply to your texts, phone calls (and that one long winding drunken email) after.

That’s the thing.

The F**kboy will only lead you to another one. And another one. And another one. He’ll lead you through a string of bad decisions, heartbreak and life-altering mistakes.

You’ll sigh every time, but you’ll never learn.

Now go message your Atul.

An Additional 25 Men Not To date in 2017

25 other guys 1x1

There are a great number of great men in this world.

You can probably count them on one hand. In this haystack of hot men (or lack thereof), there are sadly, only a few shiny needles that you want to take back home. Unfortunately, the world is full of wrong men that you’d never want to see ever again, in a haystack or otherwise.

Is there a test that helps you sort out the frogs from the fresh-faced Prince Charmings? Not really, but if your potential playmate checks off any of the items of this list then it’s probably a good idea to leave him in the pond you found him in.

You did great in bypassing The 75 Boys Not To Date in 2017 here, here and here , but you still have a long way to go. Ready to start counting?

So never date a man who…

  1. Addresses the wait staff rudely.

A wise man once said, ‘Never judge a man by how he treats his equals, but by how he treats his inferiors.’ Okay, it was Sirius Black in the Goblet Of Fire.

2. Calls you ‘baby’.

You see that tremor on my face? It’s not love. And never will be.

3. Wears slippers with trousers.

You know that moment when you see slippers sticking out of trousers? It’s that precise moment when my mind shuts down and I start singing Taylor Swift’s ‘We Are Never Getting back Together’ in my head, when in actuality, I am singing sweet nothings into the boy’s ears.

4. Uses more than one hash tag in a tweet.

#It #Is #Not #Cool #When #You #Talk #Like #This.

5. Has drunken stories from Tuesday night.

No one should ever have drunken stories from a Tuesday night. They aren’t called the Terrible Tuesdays without a reason, are they?

6. Posts more than one selfie a week.

Negative credits if any of these are included: the duck face, gun flexing, trial room testing and the classic ‘t-shirt lift to reveal a bed of abs’.

7. Tells you that Murakami is his favourite author.

He’s probably only read Norwegian Wood.

8. Doesn’t eat the crusts of his pizza.

Picky eaters never make for good lovers. Trust me. Also, that crust? That’s sex on a plate.

9. Doesn’t really have friends his age.

You know what that means? It means that entire generations of people have obviously avoided him for a reason.

10. Repeats his jokes.

If people didn’t laugh at your joke the first time, it’s obviously because they didn’t get it. Right?

11. Signs off his emails with an inspirational quote he’s picked off the Internet.

Are we living in 2002 again? Keep it simple, crisp and end it with your last name.

12. Expects you to instantly fall in love with all his favourite things.

‘Oh wow, Quantum Physics is so much fun,’ said no one ever.

13. Says he is always busy.

You know what he actually is? Full of excuses.

14. Starts off a story with, ‘That one time I beat someone up…’

‘Nuff said.

15. Thinks that women are feminists because they want it easy.

I am sorry, but you have it easy because you are a male chauvinist pig.

16. Thinks that it’s cool to make racist jokes.

The only thing that is even less funny than him is my diet.

17. Texts you way too much.

‘Hi!’

‘Good morning!’

‘What’s happening?’

‘I am bored.’

‘What did you have for lunch?’

‘Are you busy?’

‘Hello?’

‘Good night!’

18. Sneezes without covering his mouth.

Get out of this faster than his germs get to you.

19. Doesn’t like brunch.

Only evil, heartless people don’t like brunch.

And restaurant owners who have lunch deals.

20. Thinks that Instagram is a waste of time.

Hello, you are a waste of time.

21. Only texts you post-midnight.

No, he’s not texting you to wish you good night, he’s texting you to find out whether he can come over. But not in a romantic ‘Should-I-get-you-soup?’ kind of way.

22. Uses the word ‘fetch’ in conversation.

Stop trying to make ‘fetch’ happen, Gretchen.

23. Hasn’t watched Mean Girls ever.

If you haven’t watched this Tina Fey beauty, which defines the crux of every gay person’s high school years, we are no longer friends. You can’t sit with us!

24. Tries to dress sexily at the gym.

We do not care if your vest matches your shoes, sir, but can I use the treadmill, please

25. Writes listicles about what kind of men not to date.

Sounds like a total douchebag, but I’ve heard he’s a good kisser.

Do you think there are even more wrong men out there for everyone here? Tweet me and let me know!

The Guysexual’s Guide to Every Gay Man’s Treasure Chest of One Liners

 

Guilty

Gay men are a lot of things.

We might come in a variety of shapes and sizes, and have temperaments as diverse as the cast of Grey’s Anatomy, but it all boils down to one thing in the end — as homosexual men, we are a storehouse of corny one-liners, sassy quips and stereotypical jokes that’ll put all the Kardashian Sisters (even the new ones) to shame. Don’t believe me?

Well, whether you are a red-blooded activist who churns out slogans for breakfast, or a social butterfly who sleeps when it’s time to have breakfast, it’s a given that we’ve all been guilty of having said at least a few of these (often cringe worthy) well-worded gems:

Continue reading The Guysexual’s Guide to Every Gay Man’s Treasure Chest of One Liners