Words by DAVID LOUGHRAN

Illustrations by PAULINA ORTEGA

DISCUSSED: Why gays who stereotype are usually single, A discouraging decade

In 2020 I will be, gasp…33 years old. At age 33 I will no longer be deemed cute (let’s be hypothetical and pretend I am now), and so I will have to triple efforts at dating. Presumably at this age I will also be more desperate and hell-bent on “finding the right one”.

I will have to be “hot” to compete with the droves of fresh gay meat that come in yearly, but my fear of close quarters and heavy machinery will deny me the obvious first destination – the gym. I will instead succumb to the marathon, and while I will not make it to the end of the finish line, I will meet The Fit Outdoorsgay. He will chuckle at my having fainted at the marathon. “Cute!”, he says, like a scene from that movie.

The Fit Outdoorsgay

The Fit Outdoorsgay is a variant of the more popularly known gym bunny, but prefers to venture outside the confines of Fitness First. Proficient in local geography (specializing in mountain trails and obscure surfing spots), he also knows all the branches of Nike and North Face. He eats fruits and nuts for breakfast and abhors sleeping all day when “you could be running in charity marathons!”.

TFO is the ideal travelling partner, as he tends to pack light and has arms monstrous enough to carry your 20-kg Samsonites.

Wardrobe: A closetful of dri-fit, body-fit, all kinds of-fit sleeveless training shirts

Accessories: Barbells for working out during the rainy season

Grooming: Herbal teas with funny names like Oolong. Ha, OOLONG! Nothing like antioxidant tea for good complexion.

My relationship with TFO will most probably meet an untimely end, because he will make me run longer trails, climb higher mountains, and lift heavier dumbbells. I think would have gotten away with my petty 5k runs and dwarf mountain climbs, but my hatred for the outdoors and getting a tan will inevitably sink in. And yes, there’s global warming in 2020.

At this juncture I will be convincing myself that good looks, hot abs…pecs…biceps…triceps…obliques…are, uhm…secondary to establishing an intellectual connection. Yeah…that’s right! I will want someone with whom to joust verbally on the haute topics of art and culture. Enter, The Fairy Gaymother!

The Fairy Gaymother

The Fairy Gaymother will lay claim to having “mentored” many homosexuals in such fields as home decoration, fashion and alternative fitness (read: ambiguous forms of yoga / Pilates / any sport that requires sassy exercise ensembles). His ability to straightforwardly dispense verbal reprimand, or a corrective gaze with arched eyebrows at the sight of anything remotely butch sets him apart from all other cultured/old homosexuals because he’s the one who, you know, truly cares. Must have been Ancient Greek in a former life.

Wardrobe: Crisp shirt and trousers, scary-sharp “winkle-pickers”

Accessories: A big fat H-buckle and mouthing the word Ermeeeehz while truly outgaying himself

Grooming: Monthly trips to a doctor whose name shall remain hush-hush (they’re not called beauty secrets for nothin’)

This relationship will be doomed to end on, according to him, the third night of that month’s mercury retrograde. I will not shed tears for TFG because he will have ruined my idea of romance with sandalwood-scented candles and classical boudoir music. And who knows, at age 33 I might also secretly desire my own ward.

Where do I get my ward?

The Lookbook Lurker

Fashion blogs are replete with bored trust fund babies and DIY fanatics. What do they all have in common? They’re all pretty young. The Lookbook Lurker knows all the good ukay spots in the city, but will also be the first to know of sales in staple stores such as Zara and Topman. He has lots of cyberfriends, none of whom you will ever meet unless you hop in and join the Lookbook fray to gain entry into their secret monthly meetings!

Wardrobe: Thrifted items, lots of black

Accessories: Hermes Kelly Birkin in 20 fruitylicious colors to contrast his aura of disconnectedness

Grooming: TLL is not particularly known for his grooming. But hey, there’s always Photoshop to achieve the desired effect

TLL and I will play dress-up together and stage pictorials in random construction zones in the Makati CBD. It will be fun and will bear fruit to a promising cyber-career, but we will amicably part ways shortly after launching our joint photoblog because of our…too-strong sense of “individuality” (the real reason being our irreconcilable styling differences).

By the tail end of 2020 the Japanese will have ventured into humanoid robotics, prompting me to spend my life savings on my very own male cyborg escort (comes with replaceable head and skin color for variety). We will have lots of robo-fun and he will generously take over all household chores; but our relationship will not outlast the usual life cycle of my electronics. “Good riddance!”, I will tell myself. Anyway, with his Palladium-charged batteries I wouldn’t have been able to keep up with his…energy.

*No illustration/stereotype available for the cyborg. He can be made to look like the man of your dreams upon purchase.

**No actual homosexuals were harmed in the writing of this article. If you are gay and feel offended by this haughty lampoon piece, consider turning straight.

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David—always funny and occasionally poignant—may carry his carefree attitude like a gunslinger, but is really a softie on the inside.

On most days, David daydreams and wonders how far he can go in life doing things ‘just for kicks’. His latest attempt at finding a path to lead him out of the middle of things is his stint as Deputy Exhibition Manager for an art gallery here in Manila – a job which he really, really enjoys.

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Paulina Ortega lives (mostly) in the wonderful little world inside her head. In it, she is a hugely successful luchador called El Poco Diablo. But when her fanciful wrestling fights come to a rest, she spends her time designing and illustrating for herself and for everyone else. She also likes drawing people’s hands.