The Valley of Twenty Something’s Boys


A couple of friends and I have our very own coveted Single’s Club. A rag tag bunch of boys who’ve either sworn of love, or believe love has sworn them off. We meet about once a week, like ladies who lunch, only cooler, smarter, and without toddlers and cheating husbands back home. We eat, drink (usually a glass of chardonnay, but I wouldn’t be lying if I say we don’t enjoy the occasional glass of beer) and as expected, make merry. And no, this does not include painless hours spent talking about boys, fashion and clothes; At least not in all its totality.

I may be a singleton, but I am no simpleton. Don’t get me wrong. It’s difficult to be single, and gay in this world, especially if you are alone and without your band of boys. How many of us have gone stag to one of those parties and been letched at by at least one shadily odd middle aged man? Who amongst us knows the pain of spending a single Saturday night alone when the rest of the world is grinding and canoodling to Katy Perry’s latest’s? We’ve all wanted to live out Queer As Folk, but all you get is a one way ticket to an awkward proposal for some group action?

Exactly. It’s a mad, mad world. I find it kind of funny, I find it kind of sad.

That’s where my band of boys come in. My Bromances, my platonic loves, my brother’s from another mother. (Pardon that.).  The ones that I learn from, the ones who’ve taught me everything I know about this world. (Them, and a string of ex boyfriends who I’d rather forget. )

There’s I, The dreamer-in-waiting, love’s labour lost, a lost soul, but definitely not a lost case.

There’s D, the quintessential cynic, the one with the important job, the one who makes us think.

There’s K, heartbreaker, the resident musician: he’s Sexy And He Knows It, LMFAO.

There’s R, The jest, the one with all the quips and quirks.

And then there’s silly old me.

Here’s introducing all of them, they’d find references in future posts, or have entire sketches on them, all anonymous, all good. Everything I do, I do it for them. (apart from the fame, popularity and all the instant wealth!)

My rag tag bunch of boys; five boys who’ve seen the world, and the boys that come in it. Each with their own story, each with their own tales to tell. That’s where I come in, and you come in. I tell their stories, you listen. Sounds like a good deal, no?

New people, new perspective. This is Life, as we know it.

And now you shall too.

This story was about:

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *


We hate spam as much as you. Enter your email address here.