You probably blacked out last weekend, did some questionable shit, and your friends told you to stop being such a fuck boy. If this didn’t happen to you (or someone you know), you’re on the wrong website.
The definition of a fuck boy depends so much on the context in which it is used. Most of the time when you call someone a fuck boy they truly fucked up. Their actions are worthy of them being called a fuck boy, but they may not actually be a fuck boy at heart. Just because you puked all over the backseat of an Uber and still demanded the driver take you to Taco Bell doesn’t mean you’re a fuck boy 24/7. This side of you just comes out Thursday- Saturday.
This kind of fuck boy really provides so much entertainment in our lives that there’s no way we can actually get mad about it. They acknowledge their fuck boy antics and don’t dwell on it like those annoying TTH people who complain about their Sunday regrets until fucking Wednesday. Had sex with your backburner bro again? Get over it. Ate a pizza even though you gave up pizza for lent? Who the hell gives up pizza? Rehashing the same regrets over and over again is for nice girls with low alcohol tolerance.
There’s no way you can’t love the betch in your friend group who’s the fuck boy. If it’s you – even more power to you.
On the other side of the fuck boy spectrum is the bro in your life who just sucks in every way possible. Think the Kevin Federline to your Britney Spears. He’s the piece of shit who got a tattoo with his college bros, probably drives some obnoxious red sports car his parents bought him, and majored in communications since he has his trust fund to fall back on.
This fuck boy’s pathetic lack of ambition is what makes him dependent on betches and known to stick around way past his expiration date. Make sure you don’t confuse this bro with a SAB – he doesn’t text you because he’s mysterious, but because he is too busy playing Call of Duty. All bros should chill with the Xbox time once they turn 23 or they’re at risk of becoming a fuck boy.
He might wear Vineyard Vines and claim to only drink scotch, but you know deep down he’s a cargo shorts-wearing, Burnett’s-drinking kind of loser. Don’t let his smoke and mirrors fool you – you’re dealing with a fuck boy and already should be walking in the other direction.
Fuck boys can be good, they can be bad. As a betch, you are only as blacked out as how many “you were a complete fuck boy last night” texts you receive the next morning. As a bro, you’re shit of luck and will probably marry a girl you find on Match.com.