I’m getting bored…

First things first… I’d like to give a big shout out to readers of Elle Girl magazine in the Netherlands. Thanks for loving and talking about me.

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Ik HOUD van ELKE EN ELKE ÉÉN VAN U! VERZEND ME een BEELD VAN U DIE HOUDEN Het TEKEN Ik van de LIEFDE BRYANBOY! KUSSEN!!!

Ok. My Dutch is all wrong and that’s what I get from using one of those online translator things. Hopefully y’all get the jist out of it. HAHAHAHA!

Moving on…

I finally managed to get my lazy fat ass to my dermatologists yesterday afternoon. There’s a photo shoot I need to go to and I have to look pretty.

First stop: Coffee Bean

THANK god the whipped cream-serving bulldyke of a midget wasn’t there. I don’t want anyone to be spitting on my drink (unless they’re cute, hot and rich… but then again, no cute, hot and rich person will work as a barista) after whingeing on my blog.

Just to be safe, I EXPLICITLY told the lovely lady behind the counter that I DO NOT WANT WHIPPED CREAM on my drink… my wish is her command.

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Cardigan by LAROK, white tank top by Calvin Klein, brown/rust-colored jeans from Acne Jeans (Sweden), boots from Fruit, bag from Hermès, amber and gold necklace from Kenneth Jay Lane, sunglasses from Dior

Boy I got a surprise for all of you.

You see, I often get asked as to who takes my photos. In addition to my familia de horreur members and friends, well, let me unveil one of them. Meet my maid, Eunice.

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Eunice has been my maid for quite some time and she’s the best, best, best friend a faggot like me can ever have. She’s got everything about me memorised. She knows some of my deepest, darkest secrets. She’s been with me through obesity and thin and up to this day, I’ve never heard a single word (.. or grunt) from her in spite of everything that she’s done for me, like cleaning up all my puke on the bathroom floor after a good night out… or  my soiled, skid mark-infested underwear.

My nonsexual wife anorexic daughter Hannah would complain about her "hunchback" maid, Simang, every once in a while.

HOY HANNAH, at least your maid ain’t a lesbian!!!

Today’s obligatory paparazzi shot.042506_paparazzi

I have a feeling my maid Eunice might be a lesbo. I’ve never seen her show any kind of perverted emotion towards guys.

OK… WAITTTTT.. she thinks that Piolo (spelling?) Pascual Filipino actor guy is cute.

Yuck!

She won’t believe me when I told her that he’s gay like a row of pink camping tents.

Oh well.

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So yeah, I had my usual glycopeel cleaning/extraction facial.

For the first time in ages, I didn’t feel any pain today. God knows why. I usually have low tolerance for pain, expecially while having a facial done. I know I scream like a pregnant prostitute bitch in labor every time my aesthetician extracts a white head from one of my blocked pore.

Today’s lack of pain made me think about things I don’t usually think about on a day-to-day basis.

For instance, sometime last week, I told a friend on how I’m starting to get bored. I expressed my desire to experience something new, like, learn a new skill or take up cooking classes.

She suggested that we learn a foreign language together… take up French at one of those Alliance Francaise centers. I told her sure, why not. We even checked the availability online and the session that we want won’t start until October. There’s a 3rd and 4th session but we’re both planning to travel around June/July/August.

While the lady pricked my face, I realized I’m at that stage where everything is just stagnant. I’m turning into a stale, 20-something.

I mean, I know I’ve changed tremendously in the past 12 months. However, if I look at it on a different perspective, it feels as if I’m not going anywhere. My life’s at a standstill and I’m doing the same things over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over again.

I told my friend this and she thinks "I’ve gone so far and achieved so much already".

042606_facial1I remember the old times when I used to deny myself from owning to what I’ve achieved in order to delude myself into thinking I have a tiny bone of humility inside me.

But I still can’t can’t help but ask myself the $64 million question.

WHERE AM I GOING AT THIS POINT?

Let’s face it, I won’t deny that all I do is shop, shop, shop, work, work, work, shop, shop, shop, spread my faggotry to the world, shop, work, eat, eat, eat, spread my faggotry to the world, shop, shop, spread my faggotry to the world.

It’s gotten to the point where it’s like a routine.

Shit, it’s MY routine.

Everything used to be fun. Every time I get a material ‘acquisition’…a  bag, a jacket, everything… it brings a genuine smile to my face and I feel soo… contented. I know I once said that being severely materialistic makes up for my lack of non-material things in life. But in all honesty, I don’t take my sense of materialism too seriously. Afterall, it’s only material stuff!

Enough ranting. I already sound like a broken record.

I think it might be therapeutic if I list what I want to happen SOON.

  • have a clear sense of direction on where I’m heading
  • experience something NEW and FUN!
  • learn something NEW… a new skill, a new hobby, whatever

(Would you believe I even went as far as researching VOLUNTEER OPPORTUNITIES in countries like ECUADOR and ROMANIA? I don’t know what came over me considering there’s over 80 million people who need help in my own backyard. My familia de horreur had always told me to stay away from hallucinogenic drugs and the people who take them.)

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Before you go on a high horse and bombard me with your PREDICTABLE sanctimonious crap, I’m begging you to please avoid telling me to

  • just be "myself" (and)
  • donate to charity.

An escape from reality is what I need. Away from the blog, the Chanel, the Fendi, the Goyard, the shopping, the facials, the cellphone, the internet, the familia de horreur and of course, the sheer thought at the back of my mind that I’m surrounded by vultures who are constantly looking for that perfect opportunity to devour me alive.

I need a holiday. A 1 or 2 month-long vacation. Somewhere extremely remote and far-flung but close to civilization. Somewhere where nobody knows me and I know nobody.

Somewhere like Skåne, Sweden.
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I want to be surrounded by nature. I want to pick fresh flowers, see trees, ride a huge horse. I want to buy a lot of art materials and learn how to paint scenery etc., that sort of thing. I also want to get gangbanged by well-hung farmboys and have hot and horny mixed-race baby-making sex on top of a tractor.

Remember Jakob, the Swedish guy I met up with in Copenhagen> He’s the only person in the world who managed to made me walk (and you KNOW I despise walking) for like 2-3 hours just to find that bloody Little Mermaid Statue?

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Well, he offered to take me to his summer house in Varberg middle of nowhere bumfuck Sweden.

If I take him up on his offer that beats the purpose of me travelling somewhere where "no one knows me and I know nobody".

Hmmm pakipot ka pa alam mo naman kung saan matutuloy yan.

I wanna go to Skåne god dammit.

Oh I’m just soooo bored with life right now. All I need is change. That’s all.

Baboosh_3

PS. Discuss this blog post here.

PPSS. The only thing that making life worth living is your love. And John Galliano.

Bryanboy loves Erick from Vandenberg AFB (Air Force Base?) California. Erick sweetie you do know that one of goals in life is to get gangbanged by the military/navy/army/men in black etc, right? PLEASE GET SOME OF YOUR AIR FORCE BUDDIES TO STRIP NAKED AND HOLD AN I LOVE BRYANBOY SIGN FOR ME.

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Screw the don’t ask don’t tell policy. If I get gangbanged by men in uniform, I want MAXIMUM MILEAGE, MAXIMUM PUBLICITY. I want to make a shitload of MONEY and sell videos of it.

Failing that, the Bryanboy pose picture will do just fine. :)

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You really love me do you now? Can I ride your aeroplane? It’s my aeroplannnneeee…

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Alex from Tasmania, Australia. Big kisses from me to you. I love ya lots darling even if you sent me a damn photochopped photo. I SAID NO PHOTOSHOPPED ONES… HAHAHA ;)

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This set of photos is better than PORN!!! I jacked off 10 times and my balls are the size of raisins. Courtesy of Clair from Perth, Australia.

(This is what I call TRUE LOVE)

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PPPSSS. OH MY GOD. THIS VIDEO HAS GOT TO BE THE GAYEST VIDEO I HAVE EVER AND I MEAN EVER SEEN.

I’m gonna go to sleep now. I have a photo shoot later today.

Baboosh_3

PS. Discuss this blog post here.