Author: Mark Bittlestone
Mark Bittlestone is a stand-up comedian. He is also very gay man. Just a very gay man, doing a lot of straight-up gay stuff.
“The New Year is around the fucking corner, how did that happen? Literally zero has happened this year, I’ve achieved nothing. I swear it’s still like April omfg what’s the point in life?! Great 2022 that’ll be a good year won’t it fucks sake I better make some resolutions.”
If, like me, you are fundamentally a #CynicalGay, something like the previous sentence sums up your feelings right now. So, here’s some advice – some GAY advice – when it comes to making those New Year resolutions. My top five tips…
I imagine (and I say imagine because I can’t even be bothered to do the shortest of Google searches) that this comes top of the list of ‘most common NY resolutions’. You’ve spent December getting fat and hammered but now you want to look like them skinny boys you see on Instagram. So you sign up to a gym and swear to eat healthily. My bet is you’ll run out of steam Jan 9 and stuff your gay little gob again. If you’re gonna do this, make an achievable, measurable goal like “go to the gym once a week” or “only have McDonalds once a month” or “don’t come home when hammered and eat every last scrap of your housemates’ food” (last one is about me). Alternatively, get a grip and remember those skinny twats on Instagram have no personality.
2) Fuck it.
These are the gays I wanna hang around. Ultimately, fu*k New Year’s Eve Resolutions… they’re a load of shit (and not in the good way, like when you’ve just bottomed for 12 hours so a load of sh*t has come out). If you want to make changes to your life, I don’t think January is the time to do it. It’s fucking bleak as it is. So why not do the #reverse (top for a change LOL) and just fuck January, do what you want.
Again probably high up there with these resolutions is learning a gay little language. Fine, whatever, go for it, but if your aim is to get a date with me (which I naturally assume is everyone’s ambition?) then IDGAF whether you can order a cheese sandwich in Lille, all I wanna know is ‘the three c’s’: how big is your cock, are you a cock, can you take a cock? (Note to self, given that they’re all about cock, just rename it ‘the three cocks’).
For some inexplicable reason I’m now committed to all of these titles beginning with a ‘f’, so I’ve very tenuously had to describe ‘taking up baking for your NYR’ as ‘filo’, as in the type of pastry…. Anyway, if you’re gay you’ve probably spent the last two months watching the Great British Bake-Off (for non-British viewers, this a programme where you watch total fucking no-hopers bake muffins for two hours a week) and you’ve cooed to yourself in your most stage-ready falsetto “Gorgenzolo” (your name, I imagine, if you’re gay), “Gorgenzolo, you could do that, then you’d be famous and people would slide into your DMs, instead of it always being the other way round, like it always, always, always is”. Well, don’t. No one wants to eat your pastries. You’re gay enough as it is without pulling a tray of overcooked little jam things out of your oven and screaming “tarts for the tarts” as your horde of prosecco-drunk gays reply, in unison, “Gorgenzolo, you MUST go on Bake-off, you’d be brilliant”. You wouldn’t, you’d cry on national television and be booted off in Week 1.
…by which I mean, ‘sex’. After the shittiness of lockdown in 2020/early 2021 and an incredibly sexless year in 2019 (I sexed once in that calendar year) I really pulled the band aid off and can announce I have had sex with 75 men this year (and counting AMIRITE), which is pretty fucking COOL even if I say so myself. Tbh I was so sick and tired of being a functional virgin and blaming my sexuality for my inability to get laid that I just decided to sort my life out and have sex as often as I wanted with whomever I wanted. It’s been cool. So, yeah, this is a good NYR imo.