The website Queerty recently published a photo essay called "40 Things Every Gay Man Should Do Before Turning 40." This is the latest in a line of such projects, including the bestselling book 1,000 Places to See Before You Die and the less-well-known pamphlet 600 Roadkill Recipes to Try Before You Vomit. Herewith I present "23 Things Every Gay Man Should Do Before He Drops Dead."
Stop using the term "straight acting" (or "str8 acting," for those who have ADHD). I hate to burst your bubble, dear, but bobbing for apples in another man's crotch isn't an act that most straight men get into.
(Knowingly) sleep with a gay Republican. I don't claim to fully understand this gay Republican thing, but there seems to be an awful lot of them. Now, there are some sexy ones, so just to see how it feels to bang someone with an investment portfolio and no moral compass, give it a whirl! Disclaimer: You will have to burn the sheets afterwards.
Have a Joan Crawford film festival. I know there are plenty of classic Hollywood icons to choose from, and I adore Bette and Liz and Marilyn, but when it comes to deliciously bad, camp movie masterpieces, La Crawford takes the cake (and may just smash it into your face). Dive right into Torch Song (black face!), Strait-Jacket (ax murderess!), Johnny Guitar (dykey Western!), and Harriet Craig (her Ming vase!). Top it off with a viewing of Faye as Joan in Mommie Dearest, and the circle is complete.
Make up a new gay slang word. Here's one: "Hobbitch," a short, nasty homo with hairy feet. Or "hottifying," describing something that is horrifying and gross but turns you on anyway. Or "Buttella," a delicious dessert spread that tastes like ass.
Support your local call boy. And tip him well!
Grow up. Look, I know aging is difficult; I am going to be
34 32 at the end of the year, and I'm not thrilled. But let's all show some dignity and maturity, shall we? For older gay men trying to retain that youthful visage of yore, please slow your roll with the injectables. I once went to get Botox and told the doctor that I wanted my face frozen, as in "total paralysis, like Christopher Reeve from the neck down." I walked around for two weeks with one very droopy eyelid, which I blamed on an allergic reaction to a bee sting. Colony collapse disorder my ass!
Take a "gaycation." There is still something unique and special about partying in a place where almost everybody else is an invert. (See how I threw that antiquated term in there?) Spend your dollars in Provincetown, Fire Island, and Key West before those locales are totally taken over by yuppies and baby strollers. The mombie apocalypse is coming!
Attend the Black Party. Because every homosexual needs to see a 4 a.m. stage show wherein a naked man sits on a safety cone onstage. Sits on it completely.
Do hot nude yoga. It will free you from your body issues. As an alternative, seek out hot rude yoga, where the instructor makes snarky comments about your love handles, or (my personal fave) hot nude Yoda, for all you Star Wars geeks.
Read. Try Dancer From the Dance, Faggots and Mr. Benson. Lordy, those disco bunnies carried on!
Go to the ball, Cinderella. Today's balls may not be quite what they were in the good old Paris Is Burning days, but make no boo-boos, honey: There's a whole new crop of children voguing, battling and serving face on the runway. Don't get chopped!
Do some squats. 'Cause I like guys with big butts.
Boycott anti-gay companies and groups. This list is constantly changing, but I believe current no-nos include Chick-fil-A, the Salvation Army and ExxonMobil.
Find a date for your fag hag. Bear in mind that you will have to find someone else to drive you home from the bar.
See Diana/Liza/Barbra perform live. Tick-tock, tick-tock...
Write a book. Share your story; every bit of our history that we can document is important. I've been meaning to do this for years, but all I keep coming up with are oddly irrelevant titles like Look Ma, No Glands: Story of a Hysterectomy.
Pick up a guy in person. Log off the PC, put away the phone and talk to someone who is actually in the same room as you! At no point should you ask him what his stats are or whether he can host.
Adopt a pet. Guys with rescue dogs and cats get laid more often, and by hotter men. I read that in a study somewhere, I swear! Also, it's just an awesome thing to do.
Stop shopping. We get it, queen: You have the perfect home and the most au courant fashions, and you shit rubies. Now stop being a cog in the corporate enslavement machine!
Help gay youth. This is a big one, y'all. Sure, the kids seem all savvy and smart with their MySpace and Atari, but underneath they are insecure, naïve little lambs! Volunteer with groups like the Hetrick-Martin Institute, The Trevor Project and the Ali Forney Center. Just don't pose for photos with them, 'cause bitch, you will look really old.
Demand that churches (and mosques and synagogues, etc.) be taxed. Religious institutions are just gigantic (and frequently anti-LGBT) political machines and corporate enterprises and should be taxed up to their gilded eyeballs.
Hold hands in public. Just not in front of me, please. I hate bitches who gloat.
Have a dinner party and only invite rabid Madonna fans and Gaga's "little monsters." Innocently toss out the question, "Who is the fiercest pop diva of all time?" and watch the bitches throw down. Meeeouwwwch!