Au Revoir Paris, Privet MOCKBA!

I believe that everything happens for a reason. Call me crazy if you want but I also believe in "signs".

If something is meant for me, then it really is meant for me.

The universe will drop subtle hints and give me signs so I’ll make the right decision.

Otherwise I wouldn’t be standing wherever I’m standing right now… with no regrets whatsoever about my life.

How insightful eh?

On that note, look at what I got in the mail on my weekly FedEx shipment from my office.

Bloomies

Isn’t it a sign?

A sign for me to go to where people "sing ra-ra-rasputin, lover of bryan the queen" and wear my new Hermes parka?

Hermes

There are no more 1-bedroom suites left at Hotel Costes, Hotel Bel-Ami and Hotel Ritz at the time when I want to go to Paris so why even bother. There’s no more availability even at cheap but chic Hotel Pershing Hall, a hotel recommended by one of my acquaintances in Londres.

Isn’t that a sign too?

It’s gonna be Fashion week at the world’s fashion capital for god’s sake, not to mention the lack of time for me to get a Schengen Visa. 3 weeks left… oi!

If Monsieur Jacques Chirac or HE Ambassador GĂ©rard CHESNEL personally invites my third world ass to spend my money in Paris, closed the Catacombs and provide a bed in the middle of all those bones so I can sleep at night (I’ll even pay for the bed!), then perhaps I’ll change my mind and reconsider.

Catacombs

But for now, it’s going to be au revoir Louis Vuitton event and Zdrastvuite MOCKBA for me.

I will have to make that dreaded phone call to LV’s brand manager later today, apologize and decline her invitation.

My god, this is going to be worse than breaking up with a guy.

I’m kinda heart-broken and I’m sure it will pass.

Afterall, the mental picture of my cute Russian friends teaching me how to snowboard is already giving me an orgasm.

I think I’m gonna bid goodbye to the LV invite in person. I’m gonna drag my Yves Saint Laurent boots (in my little walk of shame) to Vuitton later today anyway because she told me to pick up my invites for the Moon Cake Festival/Event (?). I might even comfort myself by going shopping (if there’s something new) and tip toe my way into the retail therapy waters.

I reserved a maroon/plum-coloured velvet scarf and I’ll purchase it today along with whatever fancies my eye.

Ooooooooooo I hate myself.

Bryanboy Loves and Random Cheesemax

#1 – Bryanboy loves people from Piscataway, NJ, Long Beach, CA, Haag, Germany, Oberlin, OH, Las Vegas, NV, Eklanda, Sweden, Mountainville, NY and Tacoma, WA. Big hugs and kisses from the fabulous third world y’all. Identify yourselves bitches by posting a comment on my blog.

#2 – It’s been a while since I posted proper (and decent) photos of myself. I’ll make sure my paparazzo takes a ton of pics later today when I go out. My best friend Kelly is back from hibernation and my Birkin bag needs major mileage.

#3 – Big hello to all my fans in Saudi Arabia. Thanks for the text messages. I love you all!

#4 – Identify yourself mystery caller! I received a call from an unidentified dialing object but hanged up before I answered.

#5 – Yeah, as if this is new. Hello, this blonde bitch has been feasting on mussels and flaps since god knows when.

Portia

As always, send your messages of love and hate to bryanboy@gmail.com. Text messages (and calls – if the weather permits) are also accepted at +63-915-785-1492.

I love you all!

Baboosh

P.S. Sing with me… 1, 2, 3. Ra Ra Rasputin Lover of Bryan the Kween… there was a Vuitton invite that really was gone. Ra Ra Rasputin, Bryan’s the third world love machine, it was shame how he carried on.