100 Things I must do before I die: 2006 Edition
100 Things to do before I die: 2006 Edition
1. Buy that god damn Chanel jacket that's been haunting me for the past god knows how long.
2. Have sex with 500 men. 395 guys down, 105 more to go. You think it's piss easy? Well, the older you get, the harder it is to find sex. Unless you pay for it... which is something I'll never, EVER, ever, ever, ever, ever, to infinity and beyond ever, do in my life.
3. Find my true purpose in life.
4. Find someone to buy me a Maybach.
Photo credit: Cars-galore.de
5a. Visit Istanbul, Turkey for a week...
5b. ... and find a Turkish guy to buy me a Maybach. Well... I did a random search on google about Turkish billionaire families (you learn something new everyday) and found Murat Hasan Karamehmet, who is 6 foot 6 tall and likes to eat donuts... like me! I'm not sure whether he's related to the Karamehment billionaires but whatever. Here's an old photo of him.
Photo credit: Marlin Chronicle
BTW you Turkish bitches, send me a note if you know something about young Turkish billionaire heirs. I want names, photos, cock sizes, etc.
6. Buy a timepiece from A. Lange & Söhne. Make that 2 timepieces.
7. Spend a 4-day break at the Four Seasons in Langkawi, Malaysia
8. Spend a weekend with Karl Lagerfeld and have him sketch me like what he did for Anna Piaggi...
9. ... and ask him to make me his muse so I can get lots of free Chanel things for life.
10. Get a nose job and a chin implant.
11. Spend a month in Rio
12. Have sex with someone Israeli.
13. Have sex with someone Lithuanian.
14. Have sex with someone Colombian.
15. Own a London Fog Balmacan trench. In New York Taxi yellow.
16. Kiss someone near the Eiffel Tower on New Year's eve.
17. Ride an elephant.
18. Set foot in Antarctica.
19. Purchase Jonathan Antin's (of Blow Out fame) product line because I'm a complete sucker. Available from Sephora. (Photo credit: Sephora)
21. Get Jesse Metcalfe to buy me dinner followed by some XXX-rated lovin' lovin'...
22. ... and then have Wentworth Miller pop by for some "Bryanboy gets spitroasted" fun
23. Get a chin implant.
24. Buy a Goyard Ambassade tote bag. In yellow... and blue. (Photo credit: Barney's)
25. Get a job at Vogue. Any job, any Vogue. American Vogue, British Vogue, Vogue Paris, Australian Vogue, even Abybooddyssinian bloody Vogue as Edina Monsoon once said.
26. Get Lasik eye surgery because my eyesight is fucked up.
27. Commission JAR to make me jewels... lots of jewels.
28. Throw a 20-man orgy at the Coco Chanel Suite at the Ritz in Paris (Photo credit: Ritz Paris)
29. Marry a millionaire... and divorce in 5 years later.
30. Marry a billionaire... with NO prenuptial agreement.
31. Learn how to bake a cake.
32. Have Nicole Richie send me a picture of her holding an "I LOVE BRYANBOY" sign.
33. Have a cameo appearance at the New York Times, New York Post, New York Magazine, International Herald Tribune, Financial Times, Us Weekly, Star, People and Time Magazine. It's my dream to have my name and my picture published there hahaha!
34. Own a 40-cm, diamond-infested crocodile Birkin bag.
35. Have lunch with Allegra Versace. yes. Lunch.
Photo credit: Gettyimages
36. Learn how to read, write and speak Chinese. Mandarin, Cantonese, Folkien, Hong Kong Chinese, Singaporean Chinese, Shanghai Baby Chinese, Beijing Baby Chinese, Canal Street Chinese, Miss Chinatown Chinese, it doesn't matter.
37. Go skinny dipping in the dead of winter with Vladimir Putin.
38. Get a gorgeous Swiss guy to teach me how to snowboard and then have hot coco and hot sex in front of a fireplace afterwards.
39. Write a book.
40. Star in a movie.
41. Have my own billboard.
42. Go to the Oscars wearing a vintage Charles James ballgown in true blue debutante style, with all the frills, trimmings and tail. I want to look like I'm wearing a beautiful birthday cake.
43. Meet Imelda Marcos and have tea with her.
44. Go to Morocco with Paris Hilton to smoke marijuana and have sex with teenage boys.
45. Own a closet full of Alaia. Lots and lots of vintage Alaia.
46. Get married in Holland with someone. Anyone. Well... anyone young, wealthy and well-hung. Then we'll adopt kids from Peru, Poland, Philippines and Pakistan.
47. Have my own baby. A real baby coming from my own sweat, blood and tears... from knocking up a lipstick lesbian.
48. Buy a huge house in Malibu for my parentals.
49. Take up Gastronomy classes at the Ritz in Paris.
50. Star in a Heatherette show.
51. Meet Amanda Lepore.
Photo credit: Sonny Vandevelde
52. Get my photos taken by David LaChapelle
53. ... and Mario Testino
54. ... and Nick Knight.
55. Star in a porn flick entitled "400-guy creampie. Annabel Chong can lick my ass crack."
56. Learn how to play poker.
57. Meet Patsy Stone and Edina Monsoon.
58. Have sex with a Russian cosmonaut in space.
59. Ride the Orient Express (OH YES!!! I'VE ALWAYS WANTED TO DO THIS!!!!!!)
60. ... and the Trans-Siberian from Beijing to Moscow.
61. Have the people at X17Online take paparazzi shots of me and publish it on their website just for shits and giggles because I love them and they should love me.
62. Meet Michael K. of Dlisted.com and buy him lunch.
63. Go backpacking across Europe.
64. Get a cute Swedish guy to give me a Swedish massage.
65. Learn how to fly a plane.
66. Adopt the "Ultra Hardcore NYC Calorie Restriction" diet.
67. Star in a TV commercial.
68. Spend a week with John Galliano.
69. Have a major handbag designer name a handbag after me.
70. Get an "I LOVE BRYANBOY" photo from every country in the world.
71. Ride a fighter jet.
72. Have hot sex with a member of any European royalty and get caught by the paparazzi. I want my face and the guy's crotch splashed on the front pages of The Mirror and The Sun.
73. Get veneers!!!
74. Run down Champs-Elysees at 4AM, naked.
75. Get a private viewing of Elton John's collection of sunglasses.
76. Snort cocaine at a London club with Miss Grace Jones.
77. Try heroin for the first (and last) time to see what the whole deal is all about. I want bragging rights!
78. Go on one of those Alaskan cruises.
79. Go skiing naked.
80. Go fox hunting with Prince Harry
81. Try being a flight attendant for a day. First Class. Long-haul.
82. Own a condo in Miami, have Missoni decorate the entire thing and rent it out to people for $$$.
83. Spend two weeks in India.
84. Spend a month in a private villa On Lake Como.
85. Go to Biarritz with my sisters and pamper ourselves.
86. Go to Ascot with Alex.
87. Try my luck in prostitution. Just for one night. To a filthy rich young Arab billionaire oil heir who will pay me a million dollars for each minute I scratch his hairy scrotum. 
88. Sleep in a castle. A REAL British castle. (Photo credit: Camelot International)
89. Learn how to drive a car.
90. Catch crabs from some young guy in a bathhouse and then give it to everyone I don't like. I want to scratch my crotch before touching people's heads and say "oh my god your hair is soo soft". Little they know I'm giving them a present. Hahaha. Ok, that was mean.
91. Get drunk with Carine Roitfeld.
92. Go to Greece during the summer and have a fling with a Greek fisher boy.
93. Spend two weeks in Los Angeles with nothing but US$100 in my pocket.
94. Get one of those Nike + iPod trainers.
95. Give some middle-aged man (in his 30s... 40 is PUSHING IT TOO FAR) a blowjob in exchange for a J. Mendel chinchilla coat.
96. Find myself a Brazilian boy toy.
97. Go on a week-long farm-stay with an Australian family and feed kangaroos.
98. Stroke Robbie Williams' hairy chest.
99. Design a RealDoll sex doll that looks 100% exactly like me. Ok, perhaps a thinner version of me. Fine. Me minus 50 pounds.
100. Last but not the least, have Oprah as my fairy godmother so she will fulfill items #1-99 on my wishlist. Where's that god damn Wildest Dream bus when you need it?
OH YES!!!!!!!!!
Fun eh?
Email me and tell me you love me. My email address is bryanboy@gmail.com and my SMS is +63.915.785.1492.
As always, I love you all!
P.S. Those Myspace faggots are at it again. I've been getting emails from people in Myspace telling me how there's a faggot out there copying my writing style on his Myspace blog. Look guys, stop it with the emails. Here's how I look at it: imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. It's not the first time it happened (remember the Jelly Birkin entry from last year?) and it certainly won't be the last. Besides, nobody is truly original these days. I don't even understand why people do it when my writing style is shitty. You should all know by now that I don't know how to write... anything that comes out from my potty mouth is pure verbal diarrhea.
