Fuck, Chuck or Marry?

Twenty something… now there is a whole lot of complication for you. This is the decade to make the mistakes, learn from them and then keep making the same mistakes… only highly intoxicated the second and third time around. It comes to no surprise that most 20 something gay boys want a relationship, this however is to a small little insignificant complicated detail… the fact that most of them are not able to keep it in their pants. 20 Something’s generally have the attention span of a ADHD Goldfish on Crack and over primp to the point of poreless perfection in the hope of snagging themselves the equivalent fake tanned and waxed underwear model centerfold that happens to be an heir to a fortune… In the back of your mind I can see you cringing knowingly of the utter mistake being repeatedly made… Thus I am here to set the record straight for all involved parties.

So, as unrealistic as all 20 something’s are, they still have the opportunity to make mistakes, and make some of those mistakes on purpose, because let’s not kid ourselves, they can still afford to get away with it… repeatedly.

Fuck: The sheer animal instinct…

You feel similar to a Jack Russell on heat. You go out clubbing and it feels like you are in a pound full of dogs around you. Every shape and size (in all ways possible) and inevitably you know you are going to end up humping someone’s leg on the dance floor and maybe get snarled at from a few older canine friends.

You spot the hottest one, his perfectly formed tits (pecs) bouncing as he shakes his muscular rump covered in denim- that was seemingly painted on- with just the right size bulge in the front to make you slip and fall in a puddle of your own drool- He looks like Malibu Beach Ken in other words. You buy him shooters until both of you cannot remember your respective mother’s names and then your dim little mind says … “HEY, WANNA COME BACK TO MY HOUSE? “ You manage to make your way home, undress each other and flop around in bed like two bergies wrestling for a last bottle of cane and then… wiping some club – smelling sweat from your brow… you fall asleep. The afternoon when you are woken by your phone ringing, you realized that someone is in the bed with you and kak yourself because you have no recollection of his name, but you lean over and catch a glimpse of his toosh just for good measure. Queue awkward fumbling for clothes, coffee out of a polystyrene cup and a goodbye that can only be described as badly pursued.

Chuck: “Next!...”

This guy is the clinger from hell! He sticks better than old cum to a cashmere jumper and he annoys the shit out of you, but you just do not have the heart to tell him where to get off.

He is ridiculously nice, he gets along with your mum and you don’t know why you are still counseling him through his cat’s death. Your experiences together means as much as a mislead orgasm for you and he has mannerisms that make your skin crawl. He makes the effort to come see you…from 120km away. He sends you flowers… at work… that embarrasses you in front of your colleagues. To put it lightly, “You are just not that into him”, and he doesn’t pick up on the subtle hints so you are going to have to do something out of character, like pretend to cheat on him to get him to leave you alone, and live with him bitching about it to your parents, friends and you for the rest of your life. “The Boomerang Boyfriend”.

Marry: Stepford Gays

YOU FOUND HIM!! Its only taken you a lifetime so far and 327 people, but you have and every time you speak to each other you get a tingly sensation all over. You both aren’t perfect, and you see and acknowledge that, but are willing to make sacrifices for each other. You induce nausea and involuntary bowel movements to your cynical friends but you are happier than ever.

The time comes when you both move in together, create a life and lifestyle, have fights, tears streaming and passionate make-up sex and you nurse each other when not well .You now have someone by your side to protect you through life’s unexpected turns. You found someone to hand your heart to – not in a stupid naive kind of a way, but in the true essence of the word.

It has always eluded me why most 20 something’s are on a constant hunt for the intangible. There is nothing to gain from it, but oh so much to lose and you won’t realize it all, until you are alone with your 789 cats, wrinkled – not from joyous moments and laughing, but from anguish and longing, and ready to kill your neighbor upstairs because his 20 children are fighting in the flat above yours again. TAKE THE STEP TOWARD YOUR FUTURE AND STOP HUNTING!! Your path’s will cross when you least expect it.