090406_jollibeeAnything that you say is beneath me.

I love the Philippines. I really do. There’s no other place in this planet where someone on a budget can live like a king. Cigarettes are less than a dollar (it doesn’t matter whether it’s US, Australian, Canadian, New Zealand or heck, even "China dollar", which a former presidential candidate once said… yes, we’ve got a shitload of lunatic presidential candidates) and booze is fucking cheap. People all over the world flock this shithole to get drunk, fuck some cheap pussy and of course, catch the gift that keeps on giving. 

There’s a thousand and one reasons why I love this country. Like Jollibee. God knows how many times I molested the bee without him paying for me. Someone should start some sort of a petition to get Jollibee to pay me a shitload of money. I’ve spent far too much cash on their chains and Jollibee is the reason why I’m clinically obese. We all know Jollibee Chickenjoy is heaven in a cardboard box.

Unfortunately with every 1001 good things I love there are 575 shitty things I hate about this country. One of them are Filipinos in general. It’s gonna take 10 years for me to create a list why I fucking hate citizens of the land of the brown, l’exotique and the natives so I made a little random "stop it" list instead.

090406_map_1

1. Stop it with your stupid "can I be your friend?" messages. NO, I don’t want to be your bloody friend. You only want to be my friend because I’m extremely good at pretending to be famous and fabulous. Mind you, I only make friends with people who are capable of feeding me a liquid diet composing of vodka and champagne… oh and free heroin, too. I’m KIDDING! I’m a nice person. I really am. Well, I try to be nice and/or I try to pretend I’m nice. I’d love to make new friends but for the life of god, those "can I be your friend?" messages are sooo fucking annoying!!! You don’t ask anyone whether you can be friends with them or not. It just happens!

2. You know what even annoys me more? People who send me emails or text messages ASKING IF I’M BRYANBOY OR NOT. I’d be a gazillionaire by now if I got a dollar every time I get a text message (or worse, email) from some cunt asking me if I’m Bryanboy or not. FUCKING HELL, my cellphone number and my email addresses are out there in the open. I still don’t understand why there are cunts out there who wants to know if I’m Bryan or not. *sigh*

3. Filipinos are notorious English nazis. I’m telling you, people in this shithole should seriously consider virtual proofreading as a job and charge oh I dunno, an arm and a leg. In over 2.5 years of my blogging "career", most, if not all, of the English nazis who commented on my blog are located in the Philippines. Gotta love Whois.sc’s ip address checker. Got someone pinpointing each and every grammar/pronunciation/syntax error on your blog? Chances are it’s a Flip. Enough said.

4. Do I look like a fucking ATM Machine? Do I look like I have wads of cash coming out of my orifices? Stop asking me for money because I have NOTHING to give you other than an oreo cookie. I’m dirt poor and I’m practically living in poverty. Get a fucking job if you want money. Otherwise, take a shower, put on some fine clothes and prostitute yourself around the world. That’s what I’m doing. Think about it — free sex and free money. You get the best of both worlds. Just play it safe – you sooo don’t wanna get an STD. I got crabs when I was 13 and it was terrible. I had to burn all my Frette sheets and wash myself in lice shampoo like 20 times a day.

5. Stop selling me real estate. For god’s sake, I can’t even buy myself a dove gray Hermès crocodile Birkin bag with pave diamonds let alone buy some land. I’m in my tweens and I still live with my familia de horreur (BY FORCE NOT BY CHOICE). Talk to the hand cause the mom who threatened suicide by xanax ain’t listening. I’M POOR! Piss off and sell your real estate somewhere else. Try oh I dunno, eBay?

6. Don’t even get me started with mixed-raced mongrels.

7. Stop asking for free stickers. Whoever said the best things in life are free can fucking go to hell. I always believed the best things in life are EXPENSIVE *BUT* FREE. My stickers are cheap therefore you should be able to afford it. If you really want my stickers, get your fat, brown ass to Irene’s Closet located at the Independent Lifestyles Section (Level R2) of Powerplant Mall in Rockwell, Makati City. My stickers are P50 each. That’s like 10 times cheaper than what I charge non-Filipinos you fucking third world cheapskate.

8. Stop telling me that I should get a sex change. I like my cock, thank you very much. If I really wanted to go through a gender reassignment surgery, dontcha think I would’ve done it by now? Why don’t **YOU** get a fucking sex change and tell me what it’s like to have your penis chopped off.

9. Stop telling me that I *should* do this or I *should* do that. I have my own life. One of the reasons why I have this website is because of the fact that I am fucking fed up of people telling me to do certain things. Why don’t *YOU* do shit your own way and fuck off to where the sun doesn’t shine?

10. Stop telling me that I should donate to charity. Why don’t *YOU* donate to fucking charity? In fact, why don’t *YOU* save the whales and all the little children too? Just because you don’t see my charitable acts online it doesn’t mean I don’t have any. True generosity comes from the heart and nobody else has to know what you gave to the community. I’m not a fucking bastard politician running for public office so I don’t have to share to the entire world what I’m doing for humanity. There is nothing more disgusting than someone who likes to have his charitable acts known to people. Bitch, please. Take a look at all those incumbent mayors/governors/senators with their "this cheap plastic monoblock church chair is donated by XXXXX Y. ZZZZ" bullcrap.

11. Stop it with all of your sanctimonious sermons on how I’m a bad role model for today’s youth. I AM NOT A ROLE MODEL AND I DON’T WANT TO BE ONE. Go away! If anything, I’m the last person in the world that should be a role model. Propelling eating disorders, anorexia, bulimia, unsafe sex, alcoholism, drug abuse, fashion, rock n’ roll, etc. is fun! I AM SATAN INCARNATE!!! We’re all going to hell anyway so why not enjoy our last remaining days on earth in drunken splendor?

12. Nobody under the age of 40 should be allowed in Philippine politics. Unless, of course, they bribe me with money or shower me with gifts. Everyone in this shithole can be bribed with the right amount. In my case, I want a US$42,000 crocodile Hermès birkin bag designed by Gaultier.

13. I AM NOT A CELEBRITY! I don’t know how to act. I don’t know how to dance. And I certainly don’t know how to sing. STOP TREATING ME LIKE A FUCKING CELEBRITY! Fine. I love getting a lot of gifts or presents and I certainly don’t mind if you take lots of my pictures because I’m one big, fat, brown camwhore but come on, please spare me from all your backdoor gossip because I don’t deserve it. Watch S-Files, Startalk, The Buzz or whatever. Go talk about some obese actress with a ludicrous skin whitening addiction or maybe some fugly porn stars who get themselves into fights with clubs just to get publicity for themselves or some drug addict gay actor who moonlights as a prostitute. Filipino showbiz is SOOOO fucking beneath me.

14. Stop this whole skin whitening nonsense. People all over the world, like me, spend an awful lot of money just to keep our tans intact. My internal organs shrank from all the self-tanner fumes I’ve inhaled over the years. Why, pray tell, do you want to look like wacko jacko?

Enough bitching. You know I love your brown ass more than anyone else.

Email me at bryanboy@gmail.com or SMS +63.915.785.1492 and tell me you love me.

And no, I’m *NOT* Bryanboy.

Baboosh_3

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