segunda-feira, 25 de julho de 2011

When Mr. Guy Friend is always around the corner

By João Lopes Marques (Eesti keeles)

Jealousy is a powerful feeling, usually for the worst reasons. I guess that’s why the “guy friend” topic is an extremely popular one in contemporary emotional literature. For men such a subject is nothing minor. It applies to most relationships: almost every female likes to keep a solid relationship with a guy she met a decade or a year prior to our arrival.

Let’s face it: this is the main reason why we tolerate Mr. Guy Friend — he was already part of her daily life and the longer the friendship the better. A second scenario is when Mr. Guy Friend is a common friend the couple met at the very same time. Still...

Some women prefer to dub it “primitive”. Yet if there is something remarkable in males is their concrete and logical thinking. In this context, “being linear” is not necessarily an insult. We shall also agree if I say men are much less manipulative than women: no tears, no scandals, no sex as a reward, no mysterious silences...

Evolution taught us to be territorial. Bear in mind DNA tests are a recent breakthrough. Ovulation is a very well-kept female secret. Exaggeration? Still nowadays from 5% to 10% of the babies are born out of the relationship.

Yes, awareness is important. A noble man must be magnanimous, but he also must filter the good and the bad Mr. Guy Friends. It’s also a matter of introspection. After all, at some point we must have also played Mr. Guy Friend for other couples...

1) A true friendship is a true friendship, and vice-versa. We are nobody to stop it, even if Mr. Guy Friend is a former boyfriend. Actually, this is the soundest and the easiest to identify: Mr. Guy Friend tends to become genuinely our friend as well. He wishes the best for his female friend and he knows she loves us. Nevertheless, a problem can pop up: Mr. Guy Friend doesn’t like us and we have to cope with a enemy for a certain time. Not too long, though: our partner will have to opt for one of us.

2) Lots of us fostered different “colourful relationships” throughout our lives. That’s another trend of post-modernity: we try first and just then we opt in. Now imagine your partner having lunch or going to the cinema with one of these ex-colorful friends. Moreover, she does it once a month... No, I don’t like this idea, sorry.

3) Many women have several gay friends, but there is always one who’s her favourite. They are really close. Hopefully. This scenario is the best of two worlds: she keeps contact with a man who admires her as a diva, although he is harmless to our emotions. He’s always there for her when we are not. Besides that, it’s really cool to have a gay friend. The problem? When Mr. Gay Friend is so attached to our sweetheart he starts doubting about his sexual orientation. Let’s cross our fingers and just hope he doesn’t want to make an experiment...

4) Of course we feel powerless when Mr. Guy Friend is embedded in a group of classmates or colleagues as a Trojan horse. He comes always in the package. Alas, we can’t do anything, to interfere in her social life would be a sign of weakness. Rudeness. But let’s keep it in a group format, right?

5) Frustrated lovers can also become marathon runners. Platonism fuels millions of friendships across the world. In these cases, one of the friends crystallized a fantasy about the friend and still has some hope. From his/her views, we are just another temporary hassle and perhaps necessary stage before the other acknowledges such a big love. Somehow it’s written in the stars they’ll end up together...

Eventually, the latter can turn annoying. Mr. Guy Friends should know the moment to step out or lower their profile. But don’t expect such a sensibility from all souls. Fed up of infamous stories, my radical friend Catarina told me once: “You know what? I don’t believe in true friendship between men and women. It’s always fake. There is always one of them who wants more...”

Wait... Does she expect something else from me?

sábado, 9 de julho de 2011

Zimbro

Raymond era um tipo absolutamente extraordinário. Surpreendente até: no mesmíssimo dia em que se mudou para Zurique ainda conseguiu esvaziar umas dez genebras.

sexta-feira, 8 de julho de 2011

Celebrating body fetishes

By João Lopes Marques (Eesti keeles)

One of the most charming facts of life is that everybody is different. We can even have a dozen of look-alikes, but humans are so nuanced that a quantic analysis will detect automatically significant differences. We just have to scratch a little bit. Zoom in.

Those are perfect news. We human beings complement each others.

This said, I must acknowledge I have a weird fetish with fetishes. How can I justify it? That was perhaps my way to overcome no tangible obsession in my life. Let’s face it: a deep-rooted fetish in a man is something quite idiosyncratic. Gives us character. Impresses. It’s something others will always write in our obituary: “Donald just loved smoking pipe hours long”, “Magnus never missed a FC Levadia match”, “Ruslan loved so much stars and planets he bought a powerful telescope with his first salary”, etc.

Yet I am being too benign. Some of men’s biggest fetishes are related to women’s bodies. That’s quite normal. Funnier is the fact women have a love-and-hate relationship with male fetishes: on one hand they believe it’s another sign of men’s primitive thinking; on the other it’s a great chance to manipulate (or seduce) their targets.

Generally speaking, we can divide males into three very different families:

  • The ones who look for a harmonic face with breathtaking eyes;
  • The ones who value a really generous bust, euphemism for “big tits”;
  • The ones who prefer to contemplate women from the back, since they just go crazy with a butt.

Even though we must consider the national/cultural biases, a beautiful woman is always a beautiful woman. Inhere we don’t use metrics, just senses. Emotions. Empathy. Love. Yet there are individuals who are tremendously picky with things one never imagined. Still remember the day my friend Xavi visited me in Tallinn. He had just divorced and came to distract himself for a while.

Honestly, I feared I was inviting another sex tourist to Estonia. All my friends and acquaintances had fallen in love with Estonian women — and not necessarily just male visitors. They made me believe Estonian women were the most beautiful in the world.

But not for Xavi. Surprisingly, he gave up the very first night. He got suddenly demotivated. “Hey, what’s wrong with you?”, I asked him in the club. He pretended he was more tired than he was, had a sip in his beer, and replied me: “Estonian women are too blond for me.”

Not only you. I was also quite surprised, since we were surrounded by dozens of extremely attractive party-goers. How could he be so picky?

This was some four years ago in BonBon, if my memory doesn’t betray me. Also remember that night Xavi and I spoke about fetishes for a while. We concluded that besides the three most common ones there are four secondary ones that tend to haunt men:

  • Really long legs;
  • Bellies, either very lean or slightly chubby belly-dancer-style;
  • Pigmentation and skin texture;
  • Abnormally elegant feet.

We laughed a lot while mapping men fetishes. If we discarded vague categories like large, young or mature women, this 3+4 equation comprehended most potential anatomical combinations. But no, we were mistaken. I thought we had been quite assertive but the next week I just met a German (or Austrian) guy in Tallinn whose main fantasy was...

“Hands are the most important part a woman’s body!”, underlined me Manfred. He was categorical enough to close the subject.

Impressive. Once again, Manfred could have the most amazing girl in front of him but his focus were hands — and not necessarily porno-like gel nails. Manfred just depicted himself has a rather sensitive soul for whom hands were determinant. Alas, a girl with bad hands was immediately vetoed.

It took me another couple of years to digest such radicalism. “How a fetish can be so cruel and illogical?”, I wondered. “Why people focus so much in small details ignoring the whole?” But no, I don’t want to sound neither moralist nor spreading the word of Jesus. Very far from that. I myself in times of doubt adopted the Spanish politically incorrect saying: En la duda, la mas tetuda (“If you are in doubt, pick the girl with bigger breasts”).

I just want to confess that — after another troubled emotional storm — I realized was haunted by an irrational fetish. Finally. Better said, an anti-fetish I am not particularly proud of: I’ve just discovered I hardly favour women with short thumbs. Another Freudian-like fetishism?

Hate to admit it, though looking at too short thumbs turns me off. Somehow. And that’s very stupid, I know — so stop looking at your fingers.

Haiku de merda

Levava uma Fuji, Mas do monte fugi, Sim, do Monte Fuji.