You weren’t supposed to hook up with my ex-man.
That wasn’t the plan.
I’m not saying he’s not hot enough. He is. And I’ve seen what he’s packing. (Congratulations)
But it was supposed to be you and I. And I know we’re not kids here… but “I saw you first”.
Yes, yes, we’re both bottoms, and I can’t fuck you worth a dime. But I’m pretty sure there have been worse plans made in this world, no?
Just one night.
Maybe after a drunken party at Decks.
Maybe after another accidental “Hey.Role?Place?” on Grindr.
Let’s make it happen.
It’s been two years in the making. And you don’t know what you’re missing. I give great head. I have a decent ass. And it helps that he’s always traveling.
If you want to wait till after you break up, that’s cool. But just a heads up… your stock might go down when you’re single again. You know how it is. It’s because I can’t have you now that I can’t help but want you.
Either way, “Grindr” me when you’ve moved on.
We’ll get a drink, or two, and share what we hate, or love, most about him.
You know what they say. The ex of an ex is your friend. And with the right amount of alcohol, your next top.
White lines on a stranger’s chest.
Dark circles under his once-hopeful eyes.
The pain from his ass is nothing compared to the pain he feels inside.
It’s all he knows.
Grindr 3al terwee2a. Scruff 3al ghada. Ouw Tinder 3al 3asha.
Grindr bel 7emmem. Grindr 3al taree2. Grindr bel sahra.
And he thought quitting smoking was hard…
He’s at it again.
Searching for love in a dark alley.
Restaurants have lost their charm.
He goes for Starbucks bathrooms instead.
He’s seen it all.
5-floor villas in Adma.
Two-star motels in Hamra.
Done it all.
10-inches. 6-inches. Microscopic.
His memory card can’t handle another dick pic.
Threesomes. Nine-somes. Saunas. Straight porn.
Jockstraps. Role-play. Viagra. Give him more.
“Fast food” is all he knows.
3 am texting. 2-hour stands. Assessing naked torsos.
He came. He saw. He came again.
Elvis has left the continent.
The fat lady is signing autographs.
It’s all been said.
They’ve all been done.
The crowd is new, but he’s been here before.
His eyes are hazy. So is his judgment.
Jägerbomb. Blow Job.
Let’s give this another shot.
So I recently met with the cool Harry Darkins, journalist and producer at RFI, and chatted with him about gay life in Beirut, as part of the “Life In Beirut” series. Check out the interview below or on the RFI website:
Spoiler alert: I say Lebanese Penal Code 543 instead of 534. Sorry, Helem. “543” just sounded better.
Here’s something that I’ve had to learn the hard way.
Hope it saves you some heartache.
People change their mind.
And their heart will follow.
You know how it goes:
– You chat with someone
– They turn out to be an idiot
– You screenshot the chat and send it to your friend on Whatsapp
So allow me to present some of my most epic fails in recent history. (And when you’re done, check out other cool ones here)
Want your own epic chat fails to be featured on this blog?
Send a screenshot of the fail to: email@example.com
Stay tuned for more…