The Complete Faggots guide:
becoming a whore and not losing your friends in the process

June 08, 2004 | 8:18 pm

Writing blogs and not posting them for a while has given me insight into who I am and where I’ve come from in the past year. I didn’t think I would change that much and maybe I really didn’t. But I’ve been responding to my surroundings in much different ways and I think I know why.

Change #1: Body
When Merce and I started working out, I hoped I’d get bigger, but I wasn’t expecting my ego to grow along with my biceps. I now have 11 inch arms and an 8 mile long ego. My ego also came equipped (upgraded?) with a homing device that alerts me to any cute guys in range (ages 18-29, of course). Cool as it is, I can’t turn it off! I stare at men, violate them in my mind, and occasionally get their phone numbers. Men who perpetually cruise are weird. I used to hate those guys.

Change #2: Mind
Knowing I have a good body has increased my self-confidence. I used to be the thin (or fat depending on how far back you go) geeky Latino boy with large cuneiform shaped eyebrows. And look at me now – I know I look good and that makes me a bonafide little shit. I used to hate those guys.

Change #3: Spirit
My social life has completely change. I’ve developed irrational fears like getting fat, having a 5 o’clock shadow, disliking pop music, and turning 30. I used to hate those guys! More importantly, I’ve neglected my friends. Tricks come and go, but friends are much harder to find … especially online. Luckily, I’ve been hard at work developing these guidelines for all to follow.

So I present to you now:

The Complete Faggots guide:
becoming a whore and not losing your friends in the process.

Rule #1:
Friends come first.
When offered the chance of really amazing sex with the high school looking jock you’ve always dreamed about or seeing Lindsey Lohan’s new movie ALWAYS choose your friends and the movie. A year from now you’ll find a younger jock who will be more than willing be your wide receiver.

Rule #2:
Friends come first.
If you’re on a trip with your friends, let’s say — oh, I don’t know — to Madonna’s concert and the MGM Grand hotel in Las Vegas and you meet a cute boy in lobby do not offer to walk him to his room. You’ll never leave, you’ll miss the concert, and your friends will disown you or fly home without you. Furthermore, if you run into said blue-eyed hottie with amazing side burns, butt-flattering pants and cute Diesel shoes from the lobby down by the pool, do not ditch your friends for a few hours for the best sex you’ll ever have. Your friends will know what you were up to by the glow on your face and the smell of lube radiating from your body. Trust me on this one.

Rule #3:
Friends come first.
Noticing the pattern, yet? Every one has a really hot friend that your complete circle of friends (and their much older gay brother) wants to bang. You pull the guy act with him and make him laugh, but never give any indication that you want him or even find him attractive (the friend, not your brother). You become the alpha male of the group and that’s when he notices you. "You’re not like other guys," he’ll say. Wrong! You’re exactly like other guys, your friends are just honest enough to play the part of drooling faggots. Do not fuck him (twice) and hide it from you friends. He may leave the group entirely and never come back, fearing that he can never face the first guy he fucked. Your friends will wonder what happened to him. You’ll know of course, you’ll have images of the virgin in you mind, as you say, "He was fun, though."

Rule #4:
I comes before U.
This should actually be discussed beforehand. And it's really not a rule so much as it’s an option (and an alphanumeric principle).

Rule #5:
Friends can come second but not very often.
You have got to have some kind of sex life, because then you’ll have nothing to laugh about with your friends. I’m really good at this rule. I’ve broken all the rest numerous times, but I’m trying to be a better friend and get his one right. When it’s my birthday and I want to celebrate it at Six Flags in California, it’ll much more fun with the guys then if I go by myself and meet gorgeous boys with shining pecs, muscular thighs and beautiful brown eyes all on my own. Right?