For the lazy asses. You're welcome
1. The kind that say “Hey, gurl, hey.”
2. The type that only date guys who look exactly like themselves. “It’s basically masturbation,” notes a particularly savvy friend of mine. Calling it “the height of narcissism” would also work. Whatever happened to the old adage, “Opposites attract”? At least lesbians help keep that one alive. And don’t even get me started on gays who have dogs that look just like themselves. Ick. Not cute. Paging Dr. Freud.
3. Niche queens who will only go to events that cater to their specific genre of gay. In other words, twinks who’ll only attend twink parties, bears who will exclusively hang out with other bears, and so on. Even at the zoo, a zebra has an occasional interest in sidling up to an antelope.
4. Gays who, when they travel abroad, refuse to go to museums or theater—just gay bars! It’s maddening! Why fly all the way to Florence or Prague when you might as well have stayed in WeHo? If your cultural tastes are that limited, why not just sit still at the Abbey and wait for the gay tourists from Florence and Prague to come to you.
5. Gays who’ve entered into a life of relative privilege and rights without having any clue as to what struggles came before it. They think all this progress simply appeared out of the sky, and it came about merely for them to enjoy it. These people have never heard of Stonewall, ACT UP, or even Britney Spears’ early years. What’s more, they don’t feel the need to keep the activism ball rolling because it’s just too unsavory a way to clog up their schedule. They‘ll even delete anything political from their Facebook page in favor of something about a reality show star’s latest elimination. If only the gay community could vote to eject them.
6. The kind that fight tirelessly for equal rights, but don’t want to be around black people or “fish.” A grasp of irony is not their strongest suit, if you ask me. (And they don’t ask me.)
7. Gay guys who fuck around on their boyfriends like crazy, but promptly end the relationship when they catch the beau even flirting with someone. Again, it’s irony in action—along with hyperactive hormones.
8. The kind who talk endlessly about their husbands, whether it fits into the conversation or not. “George and I, blah blah blah…Me and George, yaddada yaddada…Yours truly and the old ball and chain, namely George…Moi and my man, a.k.a. George…” and on and on, until you want to scream, “All right already, I get it. You nabbed a hubby!” Instead you calmly say, “So where is George anyway?” “Oh, him?” they wanly reply. “He’s been away. We haven’t seen each other for eight months.”
9. Fashion stylist gays. Not all fashion stylist gays, mind you—just most, I mean a lot, I mean some of them. According to an entrepreneurial source: “They act like they’re doing you a favor by borrowing your clothes! And when you remind them that they were supposed to return the clothes ages ago, they bristle, ‘I just got back from Paris and I don’t have an intern right now. Can’t it wait?’ If you retort, ‘Well, do it yourself,’ they’ll try to blackball you from a magazine you don’t even want to be in! They’re the worst.” And they don’t even look good—sometimes.
10. The kind that gab interminably about their sumptuous beach house in Fire Island, Rehoboth, or Fort Lauderdale, but never invite you! Why would anyone want to hear miles of blather about a lush summer estate if an invitation isn’t attached to the spiel? It’s like describing your body in graphic detail to a sex addict, complete with all kinds of come-ons, then walking away.
11. The ones who kvetch about how HBO’s The Normal Heart had straights playing gays. They seem to have forgotten that we’ve fought for equal opportunities so gays can play all sorts of things and so can straights. It’s acting! Besides, didn’t they notice Matt Bomer, Jim Parsons, Joe Mantello, Stephen Spinella, BD Wong, Jonathan Groff, and Denis O’Hare in the cast? Pay attention, gays!
12. The kind who are so glued to their technology that they have completely lost their ability to communicate in person. You know, orally. With actual words. Face to face. Instagram this, bitches.