Toronto Diary
1 min

Your gay BFF probably hates you

Having never seen a single episode of The Real Housewives of R'lyeh or any of the other death-spawn sister shows that have been crapped into the punch bowl of Western civilization, I'm still not entirely convinced the show even exists. Until I actually see it, I will forever be convinced that it is just a clever satire of the state of television.

Anyway, one of the tropes of the show is that all the girls have their own gay best friend, who isn't so much a best friend as he is a handbag with legs. He carries stuff, fixes the girl's hair and makeup and comes in delightful designer colours. And that's all he does. You know what? Fuck it. If Wesley Snipes can coin the term "magical black man," I'm coining the term "fabulous gay BFF." You know the type: the gay best friend whose life revolves around his girlfriend's and all her trivial needs. That bitch! Ye have been fairly warned, Hollywood. No gay man would ever spend all his time listening to a chick weep about some shit or another. That takes time away from his weeping about some shit or another!