Rollin’ With Mah Homies

It’s official. Moscow is indeed my second home. I love, love MOCKBA.

It’s soo full of the nouveaux riche it’s like finding long lost brothers and sisters, wearing their in-your-face-wealth-is-stealth clothes in an enormous lost and found area.

In fact, I feel very old money already.

If you think I’m bad, you have to see some of the Russians I’ve seen – they’re all fabulously dressed – everything has a fucking label on it. I, on the other hand, mix up "designer" with non-designer pieces; for instance, I wore my Missoni oversized cardigan + belt, Fendi sweater, Hermes belt, ZARA corduroy pants and Frye boots.

I went to Stoleshnikov Pereulok yesterday, a little brick road, home of Dior, Hermes, Vuitton et al and a ton of women (and some men, their husbands/sugar daddy) gave me the smile, the approving nod and the hi/hellos/where are you froms.

I think it’s because of my Birkin bag and my oh so fabulous chinchilla.

Courtesy of Reality_Chic, who said my Chinchilla picture reminds me of her.

When I went to the Hermes shop to take a look at their stock, this Russian woman had a Fendi bag filled with CRISP, cold, hard cash, complete with rubber bands. It was around 900,000 rubbles, which is roughly around US$31,000. You should’ve seen the look on my face when I saw that – it was the same face I had when Jane brought me shopping last year.

Palazzo Ducale

I met up with my Russian gal pal Jane again (I’ve known her for like a year yet it was only a few months back that I found out her Russian name is Evgenia/Eugenia). We went to her dad’s favourite Italian restaurant in Moscow, the Palazzo Ducale. It is one of Moscow’s poshest restaurants.

The food was scrumptious. I had a shrimp cocktail (generous, generous servings) and some fillet. Even the bellini was divine. Jane had a salad and risotto.

Jane’s been a complete gentlewoman to bring me there. We had a great table… in fact, it was so great that my brown Fendi logo-a-gogo v-neck matches the decor. Hah! 

Apres-dinner, we had a little kiddie fun with her leftovers because her food was soooo black.

Err.. SHE had kiddie food fun.

I hesitated.

After all, I’m the epitome of class, high-low-hi-whore society and glamour (as in G-L-A-M-O-U-R MAGAZINE).

Jane, you bitch, you looked really, really, really scary on these 2 pictures.

It’s official. I now have emotional scars. I’m scarred for life!

After Palazzo Ducale, we had coffee at some coffee shop that’s quite trendy with the 20 and 30-something Moscow crowd. I forgot the name.

Jane had to go home after coffee and I met up with another old friend, Kate.

The Red Cap

I joined Kate, Nastya (who I called Nasty Nastya), another Kate (who left for St. Petersburg today) on a little "hen night" at Red Cap.

This is what I love about Moscow – it’s a city full of the unpredictable.

Who would have thought there’s actually a STRIP CLUB just for women?

Kate knows the manager there so I was able to get in for free, otherwise I would have paid US$100 for the entrance.

IT WAS QUITE OVERWHELMING TO BE HONEST! IT WAS SOOO SURREAL!!

IT’S LIKE, OH MY GOD, IT’S THE FIRST TIME TO BE IN A STRIP CLUB!

IT’S NOT EVEN LIKE A STRIP STRIP STRIP CLUB FILLED WITH DIRTY OLD PENSIONERS LOOKING FOR A SHAG… IT’S A STRIP CLUB FILLED WITH NEW-MONEYED RUSSIAN GIRLS, 18 – 30 YEARS OLD.

All these young girls actually pay a shitload of money only to be surrounded by a ton of STEROID-ANDROIDS (oh yes, the muscle mary to girl ratio was like 3 muscle marys for every girl/patroness).

I was laughing so hard inside when you hear things like "ooo you choose a guy for me", "who do you like best on the stage?", "she went to the bar to order a guy for her".

These girls pay like US$50 for 30 minutes of TALK time – yes – just talk… and hugs… and whatever.

God… these "hen" nights…

When those 3 girls ordered their guys and I told them it’s best for me to go home.

How old were the girls? 22, 18 and 20.

I on the other hand, the oldest of the bunch, chickened out and went home at 3:30AM.

THANK GOD THOSE STRIPPERS DON’T SPEAK ENGLISH.

AND SINCE MY FAMILY MEMBERS (ESPECIALLY MY PARENTS) ARE READING MY BLOG

NO, I DIDN’T TOUCH ANY OF THE STRIPPERS.

NO, I DIDN’T HAVE SEX WITH ANY OF THEM. GOD KNOWS WHERE THEY STICK THEIR POLES.

ALL I DID WAS SIT ON ONE CORNER OF A TABLE LOOKING AT THE ENTIRE PLACE BECAUSE IT WAS SOOO SURREAL.

Best of all I didn’t spend anything, not even a single cent, penny or rubble – Kate took care of EVERYTHING, including my 4 gin tonics and 2 red bulls.

The only thing I paid for is my cab fare back to the hotel.

Overall I had a jolly good time.

HANNAH MATRONIC, you should’ve come to Moscow. I know you like your muscle mary Filipino male models/C-list celebs without any money!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Wake up and smell the fresh air babe. You have to come here. THIS IS THE OFFICIAL HEADQUARTERS OF THE INTERNATIONAL ASSOCIATION OF YOUNG, UNDER-25, SUGAR MOMMYS/MATRONS-IN-TRAINING! I feel sorry for your brown Filipino ass celebrating thanksgiving in Middleofnowhere, NY state.

Don’t be depressed bitch. We’ll see each other in December.

(yes, there’s this nagging voice deep down inside that I DOOOOO miss home)

As always, you know where to contact me. Email bryanboy@gmail.com or SMS me at my new Russian mobile number, +7-926-437-6332.

Baboosh!