Let's talk about gay men with abs

Over a cup of coffee, a friend of mine told me what his best friend told him: there is a ranking for gay men that is based purely on their looks. Basically, the "Top 25" is composed of gay men who look the same: properly groomed, fit clothing, big chest, strong arms, and a six-pack. (Apparently a flat tummy is not enough anymore) And those who look otherwise, and by that I mean a regular man with no bulging muscles--a man who, in the eyes of men who subscribe to this ridiculous ranking, look unremarkable--belong to the "Bottom 25." I almost spilled my coffee when I heard this.

I'm a regular guy. I don't have a six-pack, I don't have big arms and chest. In fact, I recently had my weight checked and I found out that I'm a pound over my ideal body weight. But what I can be proud of is that I can dress well. I'm a fan of button downs and polos that do not cling tightly to my entire upper body like a chameleon to a branch.

Despite my liking for comfortable collared shirts and casual long sleeves, it seems, from the requirements of this ranking, I am unremarkable still. In fact, all my friends, my good gay friends who are all doing so well in their chosen field, are also unremarkable because, like me, they do not have the body of a Greek god.

When I went to a bar in Malate to meet a friend at midnight (who forgot to meet me, unfortunately), I met an Indian-American man who just came from the States and he told me I was different from the rest of the men at the bar that night--a bar that was full of abs and testosterone. I indulged myself a little and asked what he meant by "different" and this was what he said: "You're the only guy here who can talk and make sense." That came from someone who owned several businesses in the States.

Me, a regular guy with no six-pack, can talk and make sense. Isn't that sexier? Isn't that more attractive? Isn't it more remarkable to be able to hold a conversation than maintain a group of abdominal muscles that have become society's basis of a "real" man? What is a real man anyway? If I were single, I wouldn't want to date a man who spends more time at the gym than living life. I would rather spend time with a man who I can talk with. But I have already met that man and we have been together for almost four years. Completely unremarkable.

It makes me wonder, where do we, regular gay men, belong? Where do we put ourselves in this world of abs and toned arms and bulging chests? Does being regular nowadays truly make us undesirable? And are we left to mingle with fellow unremarkably regular gay men too because some men with abs think that men with abs should only meet (or fuck) other men with abs?

Men with abs. Pfft. Where's the variety in that?

Two shirtless guys on Twitter

A conversation between two shirtless guys on Twitter.

Guy 1: What's up?
Guy 2: Hey! Wanted to go to the gym but that's not gonna happen.
Guy 1: Why? I went today; worked on my chest. Trying to get it more pumped up.
Guy 2: I know. I wanted to go so bad, but the weather was horrible.
Guy 1: Oh really? Boo! I would have made you go if I lived down there.
Guy 2: Jealous that you went. Urg! I'm so mad!
Guy 1: Don't be mad. Taking breaks is good sometimes.
Guy 2: Yeah, but I haven't gotten back into a groove.
Guy 1: Aw. What wrong? Why didn't you go today?
Guy 2: It was pouring and I didn't want to walk to the gym wet.
Guy 1: Aw. I would have made you go if I lived down there.

Is this really what a lot of men are interested in these days? They're trying to get their muscles "pumped up" so much they're forgetting to use their brains. I also can't help but wonder: are they really gym buddies or f*ck buddies? Guy 1 seemed like he's ready for some private work-out with Guy 2 at his place. And one more thing: can you not use an umbrella to cover yourself on your way to the gym? But if he's gay then having no umbrella can be very advantageous--gyms these days are where the buffed carnivorous gay guys are and they love equally hot bodies covered with wet, white shirts. :)

*I have nothing against gay men since I am one myself, but I find big muscled men in general who seem to have lost their wits to be an oddity in this ever changing world. Surprisingly they are growing in numbers. We will soon be overrun by Johnny Bravos!

Just brawn and no brains

I wonder what Pacquiao's gay friends think of him when he made that controversial statement. I wonder what his wife's gay friends think of him, too. And I definitely wonder what his children will think of him should they grow up to be gays/lesbians. Would Pacquiao still hold the same sentiment or will he swallow his pride and accept defeat to the LGBT community? Or will he remain ignorant and punch the homosexuality out of his children assuming they grow up to be gays and lesbians?

I never liked Pacquiao. I always thought there was nothing beneath his messy 'do and unkempt beard. Now I believe it to be true.

In the dark

A couple of years ago, vaguely, I saw my former partner outside our rented apartment in the dark with a stranger. It was really late and the light coming from the windows wasn't enough to push back the shadows that hid them from me. But I knew they were close. Too close for strangers to stand by each other in a dark corner of the compound.

I was used to sleeping with my partner. We shared that small bed that was pushed against the thin wood wall. Feeling that someone was with me as I slept brought me comfort, security, contentment. But that night I woke up alone and confused. Where could have my partner gone?

I heard hushed voices coming from outside. Our room was nearest to the only door of that small place. I tried to silently open the door of the room, but I knew that that would be impossible since our room's door was tightly pressed against the wooden frame of the wall. I opened it still and rushed outside, away from the bright flourescent light of the small living area, into the dark outside. And there I saw them.

My partner immediately tried to bring me back inside. I can't be sure of what I did next. But I am not a man of the fist therefore I can definitely say that the stranger left bruise-free.

I was angry at my partner, but it eventually subsided. I was even foolish enough to apologize to the stranger for my odd behavior thru text. I don't know why I did that, but I know now that my reaction wasn't odd at all, in fact it was warranted, and that by apologizing to the stranger I have lost my mind.

Regardless of reason, no partner should ever meet with a stranger especially in the dark. The experience has left me a little traumatized, paranoid even. I hate this.

Confeeermed! Tsek! Pak!

Atty. Midas Marquez is one of the popular faces on television these days, what with his criticism of the DOJ directive to prevent the Arroyos from leaving the country and the recent reprimand he got from the Justices for "stepping beyond his mandate" in the best reality show on Philippine TV -- The Arroyos.

The good Supreme Court spokesperson is well known especially with the ladies because a lot of women (and men, too) find him cute. Cute lawyers are not unheard of. Our government offices may not have an abundance of cute lawyers, but we cherish them all the more.

I came across this video while reading tweets on my timeline and I was intrigued by my friends' posts. You can just imagine how hard I was laughing at the latter part.

Like I said, we don't have an abundance of cute lawyers, and cute gay lawyers are a rarity these days. I guess they have good reasons to hide their true selves because they might be discriminated against should they practice in pink. I happen to personally know one myself.

But then, some straight guys squeal like little girls when they're surprised, so there's a possibility that he's just like that. But I'm pretty sure you're going to say I'm so wrong. Gay or straight, I don't really care. He's cute and that's all that matters.

A Night In A Blue Bar

I remembered something last night which I’ve forgotten to blog. After a rather disappointing movie with my friends at Greenbelt days ago, I’ve decided to take one of my other “special” friends to a blue bar in Malate. It wasn’t easy for him to decide whether to go or not to, but my friend’s curiosity got the better of him – he has never been there before.

It was funny because he did not want to be noticed by anyone he knows, especially by anyone from his school. At exactly 1 in the morning, with hoodies and caps, we ventured to the busy streets of Nakpil. It took us a couple more minutes to get in line to this unbelievably small and crowded bar. I’ve been to this place before; however, it still gave me chills because I can never stand being in a place as crowded as a can of tuna with booming music and the scent of ecstasy in processed air.

So there we were, meters from the ramp, with no bottle of beer in hand, swaying to the music when everybody else was dancing and grinding (not to be confused with losers, please! Ha-ha!). Under the lasers and dim light even the ugliest can become the best looking. I warned my very discreet friend not to trust the dimly lit bar because most people there naturally look less good looking when they come outside. He did not believe me at first, but eventually he noticed I was right.

The funny thing about that particular night – I thought - was that my friend never wanted attention. But to go in a blue bar means to catch attention, having fun merely comes second (I will slap anyone who thinks otherwise). Almost nobody paid attention to him, I had more than enough. There were not really much guys there who passed our standards that night anyway. Then it suddenly dawned on me that he did not want attention, but we were there merely to satisfy his curiosity of being in a place he’s not accustomed to. He got culture shock – even I had that when I went there for the first time.

Everything else went well, but the one thing I’ve feared for my friend came: he wanted to go back soon. I am such a bad influence! No matter, when we think friends did us wrong they still remain our friends. I’m not saying it was wrong of me to bring him there, merely pondering if I’m the right person to guide my friend in this complicated world called gay life. But then again, the phrase did not really match my explanation. Ha-ha!

Correct me if I’m wrong. Gay bars are places where gay people go to because there are nude male dancers. Blue bars are places mostly filled with gay guys, not necessarily the entire list of people in that area.