The fuckboi (fuccboi, fukboi, fuckboy) is not simply a boy who you fuck. He is a boy who only wants to fuck, who feels ‘confined’ when he is not allowed to fuck around, and who doesn’t care if he fucks you over. This is the word that heterosexual women have been searching for since the sexual revolution. It addresses a tension that began then and continues today: women can have sex with whoever they want, but when the only offerings are fuckbois, is the sex worth having?

In this column, Codie Bell and Jessy Wu have put together a guide to help you identify and avoid fuckbois before feelings can develop.

Disclaimer: This column describes only tendencies and general characteristics. Any resemblance to real persons the authors have dated or fucked is coincidental, and any correspondence on this issue will be answered with ‘well if the shoe fits, fuckboi’.

The first specimen we are examining is the troubled intellectual fuckboi.

Habitat
The troubled intellectual fuckboi is most often sighted in cafes that exclusively hire male baristas, discussing roasting methods and the superiority of cold brew. On the rare occasions he condescends to attend a tutorial, he can be heard asking ‘but is the author really dead?’ That is, when he isn’t busy interrupting women in the class.

He lines his nest with classic rock posters, and will be demonstrably impressed if you can recognise David Bowie. There are also posters of street art – although they are definitely not Banksy – and he will smile smugly if you assume they are.

Mating Call
“You know, you are really mature for a first year.”
“To understand me, you really need to read Machiavelli’s The Prince.”
“You’re familiar with Haruki Murakami? I’m impressed.”

General Description
The troubled intellectual fuckboi lures you in with his eagerness to ask the ‘big questions’ and his ability to create ‘totally inspired’ playlists that somehow all resemble the soundscape of a 2012 Australia Day barbeque.

Once he has you in his web, he will begin to confide in you about his ‘complicated relationship with my biological father’ and his self diagnosed ‘inability to trust women’. He thinks labels ‘confine him’, because how can his feelings be surmised with a mere label such as ‘girlfriend’? Although he does have a complicated relationship with his ex, and he makes sure to remind you that you ‘would never be able to understand’.

He is always eager to discuss his own issues, and always finds a way to bring up his parents’ divorce. Uncannily, when you try to open up about yourself, he will always find a way to reroute the conversation back to something about him.

He positions himself as the arbiter of good taste, and smiles approvingly when your tastes resemble his, while smugly dismissing everything else you enjoy as ‘so high school’.