Saturday, 8 August 2009

The Problem

So, when I set this up, I did so saying that it's not easy being fat and gay, right? Now, I realised almost straight away that that was pretty pathetic; that it was super-negative and that I didn't want to go down that route. After all, if it's so bad, why don't I just fucking lose weight, right? Right.

As if the Powers That Be wanted to prove a point, though, I just now got this message on gaydar from a user called 'arab4hung'. Look at his profile and, well, it's pretty clear to see that he's not exactly a sparkling personality. But, I've never spoken to him before - no messages, no private chats, nothing.

So, imagine my surprise when I get this message from him:

it would nt kill slimming down eating healthy and curbing on food
ur 24 and qhuite monstruous big

the gay world is tough

ur 24 y and if u want not the best in the gay world but just ordinary normal nice gay guys really curb on unnecesary food eat healthy and go for a nice haircut

slimmer fitter means also less risk of heart attack or hypertension or diabetes etc


i hope u wont mind me tgelling all this


No, arab4hung! I don't mind you telling me this at all. It really hadn't occurred to me.

To be honest, this is a pretty horrible thing to receive. It's stuff I know: I should slim down. I am putting my health at risk. It is difficult to find anyone other than weird old chasers after me. But the phrasing - the mean-spiritedness to imply that, even if I did slim down, I would still only be able to go after 'normal' looking guys - is really quite crushing. Especially when I get people telling me that I'm cute now and again. I'd actually started to believe that maybe it was true, at least to some eyes.

So, I think, I need to reply to this. And, before my brain does any thinking, the following message has composed itself:

Er - who are you?

Thanks, but if I want completely obvious advice, I'll just look in a mirror - I'm quite capable of making those fascinating leaps of logic myself.

And, you know, if you want to impart your incredible wisdom to other people in the future - and I'd think twice before you do, because once again I'm sure they'll not be particularly thankful - you might want to not use words like 'monstrous', and you might not want to be so arrogant as to say that I could get 'normal' guys if I slimmed down.

Why? Because it makes you sound like a complete and utter cunt.

Oh, and for the record: I have already had relationships with guys *far* more attractive than, gosh, even YOU! And they have liked me despite my size.

So, just in case it wasn't clear: fuck off.
There is one lie in there: can you spot it? It's radiating untruth like a throbbing wound in my argument.

(Yes, I've not actually been in a relationship at all, ever. There is an element of truth in there, though: I have had sex with people far more attractive than he is. But that doesn't sound quite as good.)

Anyway. I only get a terse reply back:

ur ugly and monstruous and u like it
fine

Yeah. I like it. No, wait - in fact, I love it. I love it so much that I'm going to single-handedly form an advocacy group, and dedicate my life to touring schools and preaching to them how amazing it is to be fat and gay. I will then invest my hard-earned earnings in a giant, continent-sized cannon, which I will use to fire you into the fucking sun, you piece of shit.

Sorry. Think I got a bit carried away there.

Sadly, he blocked me straight after that message of his, which meant that I didn't get the chance for a comeback. But the thing is, it wouldn't have been a nasty, rude retort like my previous one. Because, in the time between those messages, one sentence of his really stuck out.

the gay world is tough


Yeah. You know what? It kind of is. Like I said at the top, I'm not one to sink into melancholy - if it's so bad, I could get myself out of it easy. But, regardless, he is right. The gay world can be tough. And it's tough because of people like him. He is judgemental, rude, and bitchy - the three things that I found so disagreeable in my (short) time on the scene back when I was younger. He's just contributing to it.

So, if you ever find yourself telling someone that the gay world is tough, just think for a second: is what you're saying there, or your general actions, contributing to that? Because if you've got the foresight to see that it's not a brilliant situation, then you've got the intelligence to buck the trend.

Now: sleep.

Monday, 3 August 2009

Redesign!

Okay, so maybe it's not a redesign - I'm not sure if you can redesign after only being open for two days, especially when no-one's even seen you yet. So maybe this is just 'design'.

Still! I've replaced that gaudy purple with black, which might make me a bit emo. But I've only gone for that because I decided on the Vib Ribbon theme, and there's no such thing as a Vib Ribbon screenshot without a black background.

It's also, well, a bit shit - but I've only got GraphicConverter on this darned thing, which makes any sort of creative image editing somewhat of a Herculean task. Still, I managed to fumble my way through. It's not brilliant, but damn it, it'll do for now.

Sunday, 2 August 2009

'A'

So. First off, I think I should introduce you to A.

A is... well, I'm not sure what A is in relation to me, so let me tell you the things I am sure of:

  • A is younger than me
  • A is cute. Not my normal type - he's really quite thin, and I'm more into 'normal' weight guys, but he has pretty funky hair.
  • He likes cuddling and admits that he 'is maybe too touchy'. This is not a bad thing. In fact, it is fucking awesome (as long as it's not kids he can't stop touching, I guess)
  • He speaks almost entirely in internet meme. This is not brilliant - every sentence ends with X3, which apparently is some sort of smiley (and I thought I was pretty good at all this shit). But, it means he knows a lot of the memes I like - things like 'oh hai', 'om nom nom' and lolcats - which, while I would never use in normal conversation, are somewhat endearing and brilliant when other people know about. So kind of a good thing.
But, more importantly, he seems somewhat interested. While this may not be enough to get most guys excited, it is a pretty rare thing for me. So, when someone at least gives the impression that they're into me, that is A Big Deal. And, bonus, he's not even blind!

In truth, though, 'mixed signals' would be a slight underestimation of the situation. He contacted me through OKCupid a while back, making the first move (always nice). We chatted, and then moved onto MSN. At times, I would get messages from him the second I signed in. Conversations would rapidly deteriorate past 'what are you doing?', which is never a brilliant sign.

I had no idea whether he was actually interested in me physically or whether this was just a friendship thing. After all, he is thin, and I'm the opposite. Too good to be true. So, I just decided to get it over with: I said that I thought he was cute. He did a blush emoticon, and said he didn't really think he was. I said he really, really was. He thanked me.

Not soon afterwards, on a Saturday evening, he contacts me on MSN. He's just got in from a party. He's pretty happy. We talk a bit, then about our plans for tomorrow. We both have nothing planned. A lives about 30 minutes by train away from London; I'm Zone 2. I decide to seize the moment and ask him if he wants to meet up the next day.

A: 'Sure'.

SCORE! BFG does a little dance.

And then, just before we say goodnight to each other after a long conversation, he says the killer line: "Your new profile pics are cute."

DOUBLE SCORE!

We aren't sure what to do, so I suggest that he texts me the next day when he's heading out and I'll meet him at his London terminal. Sweet. Finally, a date - it's been almost a year.

Next day comes. I get up and ready early, so I can be ready for his text. 11:00am comes, nothing. I sit in my living room and play a game to pass the time - I can't remember which, maybe Trash Panic. 12:00am comes, and nothing. I send him a text: "Yo. Thought we could maybe go to that big Namco arcade? You thought of anything you want to?"

Nothing.

An hour later, I send another one: "So, you're not coming then?" Again, no response. Clearly, this ain't happening. That's actually not a bad thing - I am horrifically nervous in social situations, even when I'm meeting good friends, so you can imagine what I'm like before a date.

Anyway. He's not on MSN for a few days when I check in. When he finally does show up:

BFG: So, what happened to you on Sunday?
A: Huh?
BFG: Sunday. You didn't get in touch!
A: Were we supposed to meet or something?


Whaaaaa?!

BFG: Uh, yeah. We arranged to meet on Saturday evening?
A: Saturday evening? Oh, man - I was so drunk then. I must have forgotten all about it. Really sorry about that.

I'm not really sure what to think about that. My ex-housemate L used to be sex-friends with a guy who did this all the time - would oversleep and stand her up, or forget. How many times did I tell her to ditch this unreliable freak? Now I found myself in the same situation, and I realised how things are different when you're looking at this stuff objectively. I couldn't do anything but forgive him; laugh it off. After all, it had only been a minor disappointment, right?

Anyway... since then things got a bit cooler, there was a period of time where it looked like that may have fizzled out. Another opportunity, gone. Until tonight... but that'll have to wait for another time.

Origins

Hello there.

If you've stumbled upon this blog - and goodness knows how you have - welcome to my virtual sort of home-y thing. Take a seat - ah, yes, sorry; I've been meaning to tidy that up for days. Just put it-- yeah, there will do. There we go.

Oh, what lovely shoes you have. Are they real leather?

Ah, sorry - I'm getting distracted somewhat. I'm supposed to be introducing myself, right?

Well, yes. My name is - ah, nearly got you there. No, my real name is a secret; but you can call me BFG. That stands for Big Fat Gay, which you might also notice in your browser's title bar. That's me. Hello!

As my name so emotively describes, I'm gay. And I'm fat. And, also, quite big - although in which aspect I'll leave you guessing (here's a hint, though: it's not my cock).

I am, at the time of writing, 24 years old. I live in London, England, which is a marvelous city that I love being in. If you're expecting the sort of 'real stories of a gay man in London town!!!' blog, may I recommend you visit Gay Banker, which is awesome and brilliant; two adjectives that you'll only be using to describe this blog with the prefix 'not particularly'.

Yes, what you'll find here are real stories. They are somewhat of a document about the life of this particular gay man, who just happens to live in London. The difference, and what I hope you might find illuminating, is so neatly wrapped up in this blog's headline. I'm fat. And, let me tell you, life as a fat gay man is really quite different to the stereotype. There's as much, if perhaps not more, discrimination than in the straight world. You can throw fashion and looking good out of the window: your wardrobe is now exclusively from High and Mighty, son. And don't even think about trying to find a boyfriend.

Okay, okay, it's not that bad really. But it is different. You could be the biggest slut in the world inside, but you're more likely to have the sex life of an eunuch if you're carrying around a lot extra in the waist area.

And so, here's it is: Big Fat Gay, the blog about the life of a, well, fat gay man. Don't worry, it's not all going to be moaning - it's, hopefully, going to be very light hearted (and self depreciating). It's going to be illuminating, I hope. But definitely enjoyable.

So, settle yourself in and write me a comment. It'd be nice to know that someone's hearing me out there... :)

-BFG