Bryanboy.com - I'm so gay I sweat glitter!

I'm getting bored...

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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".

I 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.)

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.

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?

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.

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.

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. :)

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

 

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 ;)

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)

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.

PS. Discuss this blog post here.

Errand Runners, Eunice Makes a Comeback, Bastardizing Bryanboy's Masculinity

Errand Runners

I spent the entire afternoon with my sister Grace, who is 2nd in line to the familia de horreur throne. It's been quite awhile since we had those sibling-bonding/quality time moments. We went to the post office to pick up my mail, had a lemonade and some fries, had our facials and bought 2 magazines before pigging out at our local Korean.

I'm turning 18 years old in less than 3 weeks and I need a god damn miracle.

FOOD IS THE ENEMY.
EATING IS A DISEASE.

Citizens of planet earth, I need help!

I really need to lose 20 or 25 pounds in order to look svelte and lithe on my birthday. Peasants like me are entitled to become a skinny cinderella on our birthdays.

Seriously, there must be a way where I can lose 1 or 2 pounds a day without surgery or cystal methampethamine abuse.

Eunice Makes A Comeback

Remember how my maid Eunice took wonderful pictures of me when I visited my uncle at the hospital when he had a heart attack? Click here if you wanna see those picture.

Well, I went to the supermarket yesterday and boy I had sooo much fun posing. Yes mother fuckers, I'm normal too and I do thinks normal people do like buy cigarettes and alcohol while the servants buy food. Hahahahahaha! I'm kidding. I LOOOOOVE the supermarket. There's sooo many nice things there. Sundries and all.

Anyway, Miss Eunice took pictures again and I think they're not bad at all.

Or maybe it's because of the fact that I'm beautiful, in spite of the pregnant tummy.

Like what I said before, it REALLY is amazing how I think I'm fucking gorgeous. I never cease to amaze me, myself and I. Beauty is indeed skin deep.

Bastardizing Bryanboy's Masculinity

I went to a dinner party at a friend's house the other night and I had sooo much fun.

Seriously, nothing can beat a good ol' dinner party: scrumptious food, great wine, good friends... it's all good!

I arrived in my one-piece denim jumpsuit from Topshop circa 2000, trucker cap and a false moustache I got from a local wig shop - a enormous contrast from the trashtastic schoolgirl whore from the night before.

It's amazing how I can bastardize my masculinity in a snap.

Next thing you know, I'm shaking my big, fat booty like J. Lo... courtesy of a friend's blond wig. The only thing missing was a pair of CAT-style Manolo Blahnik boots and gold hoop earrings.

Why oh why is this happening to me? For all you know, it won't be long until I get a gender reassignment.

Nah. Thanks but no thanks. I love my penis, thank you very much. I absolutely have no use for an orifice that looks like mussels.

Man, I still can't get over the fact that a shitload of men tried to chat me up when I dressed up as a whore. Is that what I **HAVE** to do to get attention from males in this town? Bah!

At least I know I'm good at one thing: being a tranny. It's very comforting to know that in the event my good fortune runs dry, there's a career waiting for me as a transvestite. Hahahahaha! I don't even have to sell my designer goods on eBay to survive! I could effortlessly start my own sleaze bar, be the doyenne of stand-up comedy I want to be and rake serious monopoly money.

Bryanboy Loves... and Random Cheesemax

#1 - Bryanboy loves people from Gerlafingen, Solothurn Switzerland, Kampong Pasir, Johor Malaysia, Washington, DC, Mlarhjden, Sweden, Alicante, Valenciana Spain, Auckland, New Zealand, Cincinnati, OH, New Delhi, India, Richardson, TX, Buffalo, NY, Guildford, UK, Milan, Italy, Kelowna, BC,  Paignton, UK, Ashfield, NSW Australia, Alpharetta, GA, North Hills, CA, Goodyear, AZ and of course, all my fans and readers who live in the beautiful town of Oiso, Kanagawa Japan. I love each and every one of you. Say hi, don't be shy!

#2 - I finally met Mrs. T's husband 2 nights ago. Boy he looks like the complete gentleman. He's sooo angelic and he looks harmless - a complete opposite from Mrs. T. HAHAHAHAH! *kidding* You guys are the perfect couple!! Mrs. T looked smashing in her chic dress, Hermes Twilly and Fendi Spy.

#3 - Big shout out to everyone at Equitable Bank's Treasury Division. I like the word "treasury". I think it's synonymous to the word TREASURE. WHO THE HELL DO I HAVE TO GIVE SEXUAL FAVOURS TO IN ORDER TO GET A CASH LOAN GRANT? What I need is a grant. At least I don't have to pay for it. Hahahahaha! Besides, I'm gonna start a non-profit organization soon - I'm gonna name it the Get Bryanboy A Crocodile Birkin Bag Foundation.

#4 - CASTING CALL: I NEED A MAN. 20-27 years old, must be GORGEOUS, FIT and at least 5'10 tall. I'm gonna have someone make a spoof 5-10 minute Paris Hilton sex tape (don't worry, we'll both keep our knickers on) for a party I'm throwing. If you know of a gorgeous man who wants to be infamous (HAHAHAHAHAHA) and he's willing to hump me with our boxers on, tell them to contact me ASAP.

#5 - Speaking of sex, some man bombarded my phone yesterday afternoon with a shitload of text messages. You see, I do my best to reply to each and every message I get... I love getting mesages. But this man was sooo weird! I told him I'm having a facial and running errands... and all the guy was thinking about was sex! He wanted to know what was it like to be gangbanged by Russian guys. He was also horny.

UGH! Saucer of milk please. The last thing I want to think of is sex when my aesthetician extracts oreo-cookie sized white heads from my enormous pores.

PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE... DO NOT SEND ME MESSAGES TELLING ME YOU'RE HORNY. Those things scare the shit out of me. Go look at some porn online and jack off. I may act like a trashtastic whore but I ain't gonna think about let alone talk about anything that has to do with your genitals.

Unless, of course, you're Wentworth Miller.

#6 - I love my friend Alex. He's a lovely, lovely Englishman that I've known for quite awhile. He's also one of my original I LOVE BRYANBOY mascots... he's the one on the right hand side of this page.

Alex, I love you too bitch, And yes, you also make my mangina moist. Both you and I know that one day, you will be the father of my first born... and I won't even ask you for child support, even if you're wealthy, cause I have my own money. I just want your babies god dammit.

I can literally picture what our kids would look like. Like what I told you, our babies will have my hair color, your eyes, your height and they're gonna be famous models and actors and actresses here in the third world. I'm telling you, we're gonna strike it rich with our future kids... the third world LOVES mixed race mongrels and everyone around here worship them like god.

I think that's all for now. I have a dinner to attend so expect another pictionary from me when I get back. I might use my all-new Marc Jacobs bag. We'll see. I'm gonna post a HUGE entry soon with all the love I've been getting recently. It's been quite awhile since I did that. As always, you know where to send images of your unconditional love.

I love you all.

Email bryan@bryanboy.com or SMS +63-915-785-1492. Tell me you love me. Tell me to stop eating because eating is a sin.

PS. Discuss this blog post here.

Sex Sells: Bryanboy Porn

Sex Sells

Hello there. My name is Bryan and I'm a nymphomaniac.

Did you know that sex is a multi-trillion dollar industry?

It's a known fact that sex sells. International PR, advertising and marketing firms worldwide use the power of mouth, tits, cock, pussy, and ass to sell various products and services.

Let's face it, everyone loves sex.... including me.

I bet you a million dollars that all of those religious fanatics, priests, nuns, vicars, bishops, ordained ministers, imams, dalai lama, monks etc, think about sex from time to time.

Heck, I bet you even that buddha person, whoever he/she is, masturbated, at one point in their lives, before he/she became a statue of some sort.

Anyway, to keep this post short, let's celebrate our sexuality by masturbating.

How can we deprive ourselves with something SOOOO good?

I invite you to sit back, take off your bottoms, relax, stroke your genitals (thick, hard, pre-cum leaking cocks or bald pussies please) and enjoy a visual orgasm... with my compliments.

Be sure to check this page from time to time as I add more award-winning porn in the future.

You know where to contact me. Email bryan@bryanboy.com or SMS +63-915-785-1492.

I love you all.

PS. Discuss this blog post here.