10 Reasons Chubs Rule

For the last thirty years, I've spent about two hours a day at the gym.  I've dated, hooked up with, and socialized with countless bodybuilders and gym rats.  But I have always been attracted to chubby guys, too.  In some ways, I like them better.

Here are 10 reasons chubby guys rule:

1, For every gym rat with 3% body fat, there are 20 guys with bellies.  A lot more guys to choose from.











2. And a lot more variety.  Muscular physiques, though undeniably attractive, all look about the same.  Visceral fat (around the organs) comes in infinite variety: belly only, with or without muscle, around the glutes, around the pecs, around the biceps, with varying size and hardness.

3.  And a lot less competition.  Chubby guys have their admirers, of course, quite a lot of them, but not nearly as many as gym rats.  You might be the only guy at the bar who is interested in him.

4. Success is practically guaranteed.  When chubby guys are rejected, it's not "Sorry, you're not my type," but a very hostile "You're gross, disgusting!  You shouldn't be allowed in the bar!"  As a result, they are very sensitive to rejection, and unlikely to say "no."

5. You can relax on the date.   Sometimes you don't want to compete with your date to see who can order the healthiest meal.  Many chubby guys are very health conscious, but most won't raise a judgmental eyebrow if you order the bacon-cheeseburger and fries.

More after the break

Rings and Tattoos and Other Disgusting Body Ornaments

My ideal type is short, dark-skinned, and chubby or muscular, with a round face, short hair, square hands and a big penis, but in a pinch I won't say no to tall, thin redheads with long faces and small dicks. 

I'm attracted to down-to-earth "regular guys," but I won't say no to an opera lover who belongs to a wine-tasting club.

But there are two ornaments that are deal breakers.

1. Rings (Ugh!)

I've always been disgusted by rings.  I could barely read The Hobbit, with Bilbo always putting that ring on.

A wedding ring, maybe, if the guy is perfect in every other way.  But I'd try to get him to take it off.

Any other rings just make the fingers look long and slender, a complete turnoff.

I dislike other jewelry, too, especially those weird plastic bracelets.  My mouth is going nowhere near that penis.

David on Schitt's Creek has four gigantic silver rings, more like tubes, which he wears in different configurations in every episode.  I can barely stand to look at him.

I don't have any photos of men wearing rings in my collection, since they're an immediate turn-off, and it took a long time to find proper examples.  Apparently most guys who wear rings mercifully keep them when it's time to take the photo.  I had to search on Google Images.

Holy Cow!  To think that this guy went out of his way to purchase three disgusting rings, and is actually wearing them.  He must be celibate, and trying to scare potential suitors away.  It's working!

2. Tattoos (Double Ugh!)

 I hate all types of body markings.  I won't get my hand stamped for re-entry into an event, and nobody better try to give me their phone number by writing it on my body!  I'll run away!  But the worst are tattoos, deliberately disfiguring yourself forever.

When I was young, only sailors had tattoos.  Now it seems that everyone under 30 has one.  I've learned to ignore them, if they're small and tasteful.

But not full blown body art that ruins the beauty of men's skin.

Especially tattoos on the hand. It makes the hand look light, delicate, fragile.  Is that really the image this guy was going for?

Two words:  Holy. Cow.

If you've already got a tattoo, there's not much you can do about it, but if you wear rings, for heaven's sake, take them off before heading out for your hookup.  You might be turned away at the front door.

See also: My Top 10 Turn-Offs.

March 1975: Could a Man Have Sex with a Man?

 

Rock Island, around 1975

I'm 14 years old, growing up in the Midwest, and although Stonewall was seven years ago, nobody knows that same-sex desire, behavior, relationships, or gay people exist.  Or if they do, they pretend not to.  All I see on tv, all I hear in the classroom or in church or from my parents or friends, with anxiety or smug assurance, everbody and everything tell sme that jeterosexual desire is universal human experience.

 Even the "fairies," those poor pitiable boys who pretend to be girls, long for girls.  

Every boy who ever lived, or who ever would live, or who ever would be written about in a book or shown on a tv screen, aches with desire for feminine curves and smiles. 

 I don't not yet, but everyone I know is certain that my "discovery"is  imminent.  One day soon, I will see The Girl walking in slow motion across the school yard, her hair blowing in the wind, and in an instant I will know what everyone else in the world knows.   From that moment on, I will devote my life to the pursuit of the feminine.

But what about the "Best Men" who inform my life, Doug, Dan, Bill.  I imagine us growing up and living together forever, finding a "Good Place."  What about my flurry of excitement over Bomba the Jungle Boy, Peter Brady, David Cassidy, Bobby Sherman?  My Book of Cute Boys from before kindergarten?

They do not signify same-sex desire, to me or to anyone else.  Same-sex desire is simply beyond the boundary of what can be imagined.  No boy ever touches another boy, except for brief ritualistic gestures like shaking hands.  If they touch by accident, they spring away, too disgusted for words.  Boys enjoy and desiredonly the touch of a girl.  

But there have been hints throughout my childhood, looks, gestures that didn't fit into this heteronormative universe.

Hippie leader Charles Manson wanted to get revenge on Terry Melchior, a record producer who had rejected his songs.  So on August 8th, 1969, he sent his is "family" to kill everyone in the house.  Melchior was no longer living there; the hippies killed actress Sharon Tate and her houseguests.  The next night, they killed the LaBianca family to throw the police off their trail.

Manson did not actually commit the murders, but ordering his disciples to do it was enough: he was found guilty of seven murders, and sentenced to death (later changed to life in prison).  

Tonight I'm up late -- my brother is out.  I'm flipping through the channels on the small black-and-white tv -- not difficult, there are only three -- when I chance  upon long-haired, long-bearded hippie in a prison suit being interviewed on a late night news program.

I was only eight years old at the time of the murders, so I didn't hear about them, and I don't recognize the man as Charles Manson was.  Just a long-haired, long-bearded hippie in prison.

"What do you miss most about life on the outside?  The interviewer asks.  "Sex?"

"Sex? No!" The hippie scoffs.  "There's lots of sex in prison."  

Then he stares menacingly at the camera, and the interviewer goes on to the next story.

Sex in prison? But...it's all men.  How could you have sex? 

Could a man have sex with a man?

But...men spring away from the slightest touch.  How could he put his penis in another man without being overcome with disgust?  And where would he put it?  

And why was it never mentioned?  All of the dozens of times I 've heard about "making love" from family, friends, on tv, in movies, it is always men and women.

I decide that women must sneak into the prison to have sex with him, or else there are male prison guards.  Problem solved.

But still the question haunts me.  Could a man have sex with a man?

See also: I Learn About Oral Sex in the Church Parking Lot