Taking a cue from Letterman, here are my all-time top ten worse fag bad habits, even before you get his jeans off:
- Smoking. Gay guys are notorious chain smokers. According to a University of Colorado Cancer Center study, gay men are twice as likely to smoke as their str8 counterparts, and far less likely to quit. Maybe it’s a penis substitution thing, ya think? For what cigs are costing today, you might as well buy some meth and get a real high. And as for those rough and tough, bearded, beer-bellied cigar smokers that usually light a stogie up in the most confined part of a bar, show me what you got between your legs Mister – then I’ll tell you if you’re a Real Man.
- Smelling like you just had a smoke. Ever kiss someone in a bar as part of your courtship and taste Marlboro on his tongue? Worse is coming home and smelling like your clothes were nicotine addicts too. Imagine what you’re breathing in. Unfortunately down here in anything-goes Florida, unless a bar sells food, you can smoke anywhere you damn well please, I think a tip to the tourists.
- Drugs, as in “do you party?” No money for gas, no money for rent, no money for electricity, no money to buy those dentures once your teeth rot out, but what the fuck, let’s get high!
- Alcohol, for what those 4-for-1 drink specials if you show up in a jockstrap at least twenty years old were made for. These are the same guys, BTW, who, totally plastered (the bartenders apparently don’t give a fuck; it’s all about the tips), stagger out of the bar and drive home. Surprisingly, though, the incidence of alcohol and drug addiction is no higher among gays than it is among str8s. But there are a hell of a lot of gay boys with their licenses permanently revoked because of endless DUI’s who clutter our roads with bikes.
- You’re out with a buddy and your friend either runs into somebody he knows and you don’t, or is attempting to make the guy, and your friend doesn’t even briefly introduce you as they exchange sweet nothings, totally ignoring you as you stand there like you were the wallpaper.
- Criticizing every imperfection in every guy you see on the beach or in a bar without acknowledging your own
- Talking nonstop about only one thing – yourself – and when someone attempts to interject a tidbit of their own like “my mother and brother committed double suicide yesterday,” you respond, “oh yea, too bad,” and continue to talk about the hunk you bopped last night.
- Cellphonitis. Guys used to grab their crotches to looking enticing – now they’re grabbing their smart phones which are practically crazy-glued to their wrists while prospective, cruising bedmates swirl around them total unnoticed.
- Not moving your bubble butt when somebody’s trying to get around you in a bar because you’ve just started a conversation with the love of your life.
- Lying about your HIV status, rather than be honest and let the chips fall where they may. This just isn’t wrong – it’s criminal, especially since barebacking is coming back into fashion like fradded cut-offs.
Now don’t get me started on my top ten worse fag habits in bed (only ten you ask?), like saying you’re a bottom and then aiming your four inch – erect – penis at my butthole …