A new phenomenon has beckoned this weekend created by the Gayboy Clones™: #NakedSunday. Before now it has been incubated in the petri dishes of the nations Gay Dating sites for some years, like the STD test of the local bar man at the grottiest nightclub. But more recently, it’s taken to Twitter, bubbling under the surface like a parasite, threatening the very existence of the lovely, wholesome social network, (hyperbole, me? Never).
Groomed by some of the most prolific wannabe budget porn stars on the #UkGayBoyCloneScene, #NakedSunday was forced down our throats by various perverts and sleazy gays, desperate to get the sordid hashtag into the Trending Topics, (I think I’d rather #Death2BeiberH8rs or #HarryStylesMarryME!!!). All this in the hope of seeing some egotistical offerings of someone who visits the gym twice a week and who decided to take the photo of themselves posing ‘sexily’ for the camera in the bedroom their mum hasn’t bothered to decorate since they were 7.
Some might even think the hashtag and weekly feature - good God, I hope it doesn’t turn into that - is a good idea. I mean, it’s win/win right? If you’re a dirty pervert, you get to ‘brighten’ your grotty bedsit with a laminated print out of some teenager sponsored by Clearasil. And if you’re some teenager, you hope to attach a footpump to your ego and inflate. Fabulous.
What about those that don’t want our otherwise wholesome feeds populated with dicks - and not just the personality variety? We have to put up with your egos forcing aside the excellent, insightful and often-humorous posts of 140-character goodness from our normal selection of people we follow. Along with the RT’s of people desperately trying to get the attention of people they hopelessly hang onto in the hope of gaining some second-hand popularity.
If I didn’t eat for 2 weeks, I would have a 6 pac, but despite being incredibly hungry, I wouldn’t post a #NakedSunday photo, even in return for a 6” subway. Why? Not because I’m a prude, (trust me, I’m not!) but because I have something I can’t buy, and that followers cannot give me: Dignity. And with Dignity comes self-respect and class. Now, don’t get me wrong, I might be looking down at those of you involved with #SordidSunday from my high horse, but I can roll around in KFC grease and drink until my liver screams as much as the next 21 year old. But I can also keep my dignity and my self-respect in tact.
The biggest thing about some of the photos on display is not in fact the guy’s manhood (dream on, sunshine,) but the egos. I’ve typed this as feverishly and angrily as some of you may have wanked over some of the egos put on display as part of #EgoSunday, and I fully intend whore this post out as much as some have whored their unwanted nudity.
Twitter is a social network; we all follow celebrities, some of us even follow Porn Star celebrities, y’know, the ones who describe themselves as ‘Model/Actor/PornWhore’. But, first and foremost, it’s a microblogging, social network. It’s not here to populate the darkest corners of the Internet that are not already inhabited by Fitlads, gaydar or the dedicated XTube account you fill with pictures of your knob.
Is it any wonder that as a sexuality we’re painted by the Daily Mail column trolls as being without morals? We, as a gender, are incredibly sexual creatures; we enjoy looking after our bodies, which is why many guys go to the gym. But how are we to change opinions on what Melanie Phillips calls, ‘the gay agenda’, when we’re represented by some as sordid sex-mongers, who desperately seek gratification from people on the internet, by posting pictures under the guise of #NakedSunday.
The problem with twitter is that it promotes the myth that the higher the follower numbers, the bigger the popularity. However, Internet popularity is meaningless. I would much rather be followed for the content of my posts, than the definition of my pecs.
