Maughan Hub: Adult Men can be F**kboys, Too

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Maughan Hub is a series of articles written by KCL’s Comedy Society members, published on Wednesdays. We hope they entertain you wherever you are!

F**kboys: the antagonists of chic flicks, the reasons drunk girls cry (and laugh) in club toilets, the epitome of a hot mess, and the lad you thought was actually nice. Unfortunately for heterosexual women, they appear to be the only men who exist in abundance. They’re eager to sweep you off your feet and onto their beds. Their greatest talent? Going incognito. You can spot the bad boys when they’re speaking to your friends, but when your friends point out that James from Philosophy Bar is oozing toxic behaviours, they’re just being overprotective!

Freshers, you may be thinking: but we’ve left boyz in sixth-form, and entered the age of adult dating and mature men! I’m not sorry to burst your bubbles, but now that you’re at university, a more accurate description would be ‘enter the world of adult f**boys.’ Age is not a prerequisite to join F**kBoyClubTM.

I can attest to this. My most recent encounter with a f**kboy involved a 30-year-old man whom I innocently considered a work-place friend. Long story short: when I admitted to having a crush on him, he helpfully clarified that all he wanted was ‘to get you drunk and bang you.’ The silver lining of encountering creeps, however, is that weeding f**kboys out of the flurry of men who hit on me is now a piece of cake. I’m also now earning millions while studying – Kim K has recently contacted me for advice, now that she may re-enter the dating scene.

So, goddess-of-dating and conqueror-of-respectful-penises, you ask, if age is not a determinant, how do we spot a f**kboy before they spot us? Here are a few signs to look out for:

1. His Tinder bio has a dog in it – because, you know, you swipe right on the dog pic and end up with an unsolicited dick pic. That is the wrong hairy beast to try and impress me with, Johnathon!

2. He creeps into your DMs like Bloody Mary in your bathroom at 3AM, and magically disappears the second you ask to meet. He has a knack for ghosting even she could never compete with.

3. When you express ANY emotion, he will say something he thinks you want to hear. Your emotion doesn’t have to be attraction; it could be stress, boredom, or even grief. Damn, sure sucks about your Gran. At least you got to look at her one last time with those gorgeous eyes xx.

4. Your boredom may lead to the occasional sext, and this is immediately telling of his inability to reciprocate in bed. Interestingly, according to F**kBoyBibleTM, the path to a man’s heart is through his stomach; the path to a woman’s heart is by denying her pleasure! (Note: Our data analyst reported that the word ‘clitoris’ is not mentioned even once in this comprehensive document. When researching for this article, a lead investigator uttered the word and the book burst into flames.)

5. He thinks being the Usain Bolt of the bedroom is a good thing. He thinks he’s so good he doesn’t check to see if his five-second thrusting did anything for you. Fact-check: you were fully dressed and halfway out the door. Not that he noticed. He was humping the air while you watched in horror.

6. You find out he is hitting on your lab-partner, flatmate, professor and Mila the neighbour, too. Yes, Nanna Mila, whose most recent purchase was a new Zimmer Frame to match her fancy dentures. At least his failed attempts at wooing her give her something to tell her husband of 60 years.

7. He proudly proclaims that he is too big for condoms. Classic f**kboy recipe: self-aggrandisement seasoned with low self-esteem, an excruciatingly average personality, and an ego somehow even bigger than the imaginary penis he thinks he has.

So, you see, that leaves you with Raj, whom you enjoyed snogging at Guy’s Bar but is now sending you red roses every day, Ali with cut glass cheekbones and a MAGA laptop sticker, and Jacob who is cute, intelligent, a feminist, and very obviously gay.

To conclude with the wise words of an aunty who glared disapprovingly at my flirting with the cute cashier in Bilal’s Halal Meat Shop – books before boys, beta.

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