Good morning to all of you worldwide cunts wherever you are. It’s 1:35AM on a Tuesday and I just got up. I’m starving!
Before I confess and unleash my inner demons to you my dear readers, I thought I’d pop in a couple of extra side dishes here and there. I hope all the sins, evil deeds and everything else that’s wrong, stays within this website. May god bless, forgive and fortify my soul.
First off, Sarah, thank you very much for bring to my attention my um, *cringes with shock and horror*, well, my alter-ago, www.brianboy.com – that’s Bryan spelt with an i, which makes it www.BRiANboy.com. Yes, my loyal readers, after months of concealing what my job is, Sarah finally discovered what I do for a living. NOT!
Next, I just got back from my pulmonologist and my paparazzi-slash-sisterette was able to take some shots. God I need a proper paparazzi this way I don’t have to pose. Hah! Crystal, here are some pictionary moments at the hospital parking lot. I’ve been trying to resurrect a skinny-off-duty-model-pre-brazilians-old-25-inch waist-earl jeans-wearing-effortless-rock-look but I made the dreaded mistake of wearing my fave cowboy boots instead of my Dior biker boots. Anyway, my arms look fat and it totally ruined the kodak moment.
Enough of this taken from the car shots. Man I look like a street tramp. A Chanel sunglasses, Balenciaga Bag wearing street tramp.
Wanna see me rough? I’ll give you rough.
I haven’t shaved my face for like a week
and a half now. I think I’m gonna grow
Now that pictionary is over, I might as well proceed with my confession.
I’m infatuated with someone. Deeply, madly, infatuated with someone.
The one that is almost borderline obsession because I googled to search for everything there is to know about him.
It’s been a few days now and I just can’t flush him out of my head.
I really like him.
His eyes says it all. Oh yes his shiny, shiny, shiny eyes.
You see, I don’t even like muscle marys. At all. I find them icky. I find them intimidating. I find them… awful.
But there’s always exceptions to the rule. Yes. EXCEPTIONS. You know who you are so fuck me. (Hint: his first name is Raul, his last name is Bova)
It’s so horrible that I’ve been living the past few days on a diet of sheer wishful thinking.
Why can’t I get this guy?
Is he even a fag?
Is he really a fag?
Is he even "bisexual"?
Does he have a girlfriend?
A cover-up girlfriend to keep the public satisfied?
All I can do at this point is to pray to the good lord almighty and the patron saint of fagdom, Patsy Stone, that he turn out to be gay.
And no, I haven’t thought about stealing his underwear contrary to what people think. As if that’s even possible. Hell-o.
As one guy told me, infatuation is worse than heroin.
If you’re infatuated but he isn’t then it’s obsession. Obsession can be as soon as 5 seconds after you’ve checked each other out.
But he hasn’t checked me out.
Not that I know of.
All I want is for him to look at me eyes and the give me a good ol hug and then a nice little snog action.
Again – wishful thinking. Hah!
Yes, he’s attractive. The first time I saw
him – shit, I had goosebumps. I was
gobsmacked. Fuck clouds in my coffee,
it was bukkake facial slapped on my face.
Ready boys and girls?
Thanks, Tr3nt, for the picture.
Vomit inducing drama eh? I bet you were
just as disappointed as I am. Heh!
Oh well. I like him.
So har dee har har.
P.S. To you my dear friends at Marc Jacobs. Did you guys get my fax? I know, I shouldn’t have don that Gucci Gladiator bag.
P.P.S.S. Email me and tell me you love me. You know who you guys are. email@example.com Or better yet, post comments and tell me you hate me.
P.P.P.S.S.S. According to my pulmonologist, my pill popping days are over. I can now safely smoke like a chimney again and ditch my bronchitis pills. I’m a healed man! All I need now is this nasal spray for a few weeks and that’s about it!
As my newfound friend Lucifer from Mexico says, a bottle of Fracas anyone?
I’m off to have lunch. Yes, at 2:05AM. I’ll update later.