China Blue

Do you know how your jeans are made? Here’s a little eye-opener documentary for you to watch this weekend.

Click click click!

CONTINUE READING

Why does my ass have to be extremely big?

I’m too embarassed to post photos of my ass online but I’ll do so anyway because I have no sense of shame and I’m one heck of a fucking attention whore. You know I know that you know (confused? hah!) I’m only doing so that you’ll post silly comments like "you don’t really have a fat ass" when in reality, my ass is sooo fucking huge it belongs to a fucking hippopotamus.

The good thing is, my extremely obese batwings are getting smaller as each day comes. One more lipo session next week and I’m gonna be thin, thin, thin… I hope! *fingers crossed*

More camwhorage after the jump…

CONTINUE READING

The Great Fall of China

I finally found the cure to depression.

2 xanax pills, Badger Sleep Balm, a night’s worth of sleep, a 40+ year old man/driver (who I think should be a photographer instead because he took good pictures) and a car.

Let me tell you this: BEIJING IS FUCKING BREATHTAKING.

And I mean BREATHTAKING.

The traffic jams and the travel time to go from one place to another is WORTH IT.

I slept at around 10PM last night, got up at fuckin 4AM (then again at 7AM) and I was out of the hotel by 9.

Went straight to the Great Wall of China (Badaling) and boy oh boy, I was the most gorgeous and best-dressed person on the wall.

(Yep, that’s a Starbucks Americano right there)

As any tourist spot in the world, there were HORDES and HORDES of tourists and I know this goes without saying, they all look fucking hideous. H-I-D-E-O-U-S. Hahahahahahahaha!

(Hey, don’t get me wrong. I LOVE tourists. A TON of them (particularly the Japanese, the Americans and the Spanish… who arrived via tour bus) took pictures of me. Man, if I got a dollar every time someone asked a photograph of me on the wall I’d be FUCKING rich (and on the top 10 of the Forbes’ list) by now.

I know any sane person will walk that gigantic brick architectural wonder with a pair of sneakers but come fucking on, it’s always nice to glam it up for all those photo ops.

I want my grandchildren (my adopted spawns’ offspring) to see pictures of me up the wall and say "my fabulous grandfather looked so American Vogue".

I’m kidding.

God I love the ego boost from all the stares I got earlier. Even those white tourists (a ton of Spaniards and Americans) took pictures of me because I’m SOOOO fucking beautiful.

I even rode this cute huge animal. It’s kinda like a horse but like it has these 2 weird mounds on its back. I forgot what they’re called. I see these whenever I watch the Discovery Channel and these are like all over the place in exotic places like Egypt or like Mongolia or whatever.

Apres Great Wall, I asked my driver to bring me to the Forbidden City.

It’s ABSOLUTELY BEAUTIFUL.

(and huge)

I sashayed and powerminced its massive brick roads as if I’m a coked-up supermodel on the runway during New York Fashion Week whilst listening to my Hotel Costes 8 album on my ipod.

I’m ON A FUCKING ROLL!

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

I’m definitely coming back to Beijing… 36 hours is simply NOT enough. I’ll create a photo album (for more pictures) on this blog when I have the spare time.

I love you all! You know where to contact me. Email bryanboy@gmail.com or SMS +63-915-785-1492.

Baboosh!

P.S. I know I owe you a big random cheesemax. I’ll do one as soon as I get to Moscow. Love ya all!

World’s Worst Traveller

I’ve been looking for a travel buddy for the past few months to no avail so I guess I’m destined to be travelling alone forever.

I am the epitome of the phrase "LONELY PLANET".

I think it has to do with the fact that I’m probably the world’s worst traveller.

• I never fly economy (unless it’s a 1-class flight i.e. those 45 minute domestic flights within the Philippines).
• I carry so much stuff with me (that I eventually don’t use) I just use it as an excuse to get my clothes dry cleaned and laundried by the maid.
• I carry so much stuff with me I usually end up shipping boxes upon boxes via Federal Express at the end of each journey.
• I spend far too much on excess luggage… enough to pay for a roundtrip, business class seat for all my suitcases.
• I almost never go to museums. Why go to huge halls filles with relics of the past when you can go to a well-lit shopping mall, be the emperor, and BUY new clothes (and shoes… and bags… and accessories…)?
• Soaking up local culture to me means getting drunk at the nearest nightclub and flirting with fellow tourists
• Mornings are for sleeping, Afternoons are for shopping, Evenings are for drink and dance.
• I don’t do public transport. Don’t expect me to take the subway.
• The longest distance that I’ll walk is 100 meters or 109 yards or 328 feet. Anything else beyond that figure requires me hailing a cab or hiring a driver via the hotel concierge. Where’s the glamour when I’ve got sweat beads on my forehead?
• Trying local cuisine means going to the nearest Japanese restaurant to order miso soup and mixed sushi.
• Sightseeing to me means going to the nearest Dior or Chanel boutique.
• I always lose maps, hotel keys and hotel address cards. In a span of 24 hours, I usually ask the hotel receptionist 5 copies of those credit-card sized plastic hotel keys.
• Wherever it is in the world, any hotel room (or suite) that I’ve stayed at should be declared as a UNESCO World Heritage Site. Cleaning up the mess I leave requires miracles… it’s a test of human strength.
• My toiletries alone weigh more than 10 kilos. And no, I don’t use them all.
• Unlike my contemporaries who steal bath robes, towels and slippers, I never steal anything from hotels except those little tiny pads of stationery that they leave on your desk/bedside table – proof that I’m still a stationery kleptomaniac after all these years; I used to be the #1 thief of Sanrio stationeries and Lisa Frank stickers amongst my friends back when I was a infant.
• Not even a fire drill/fire alarm test can wake me up when I’m sleeping.
• I have this weird habit of bringing out everything inside my suitcases just to have an outfit for any particular day.

  

• Yes oh yes, even if that means unpacking everything on the floor only to spend more than 6 hours the following day to repack it all over again…

  

Now, now, all flaws aside… here are the reasons why I also qualify for the

World’s Best Travel Buddy

position.

• I’m not selfish when it coms to sharing bathroom space
• I am the poster child of cleanliness when it comes to illegal substances; I’m no British-Sex-Tourist-Smugglin’-A-Bag-Of-Heroin’. No way in this life I’m goin to be Claire Danes-meets-Thai Prison for drugs.
• I never argue with anyone when it comes to the remote control
• I never induce pillow fights
• I won’t let you stay awake when I can’t go to sleep
• I never wake people up
• I never bring boys back to the room
• I never come home drunk, drugged, fucked or drugfucked at 5AM
• I limit myself to a mere 2 hours to "get ready" before going out
• I let people shower first
• I don’t sing in the shower
• I never touch people’s toiletries let alone borrow their stuff.
• Yes, I’ll take public transport and walk for more than 100 meters as long as you meet the following stipulations:

  - you go down on your knees and beg
  - you won’t tell anyone that I took public transport (or walk 100+ meters) with you
  - you’ll bring tissue + spare handkerchiefs
  - you must buy me a pair of good, humongous Chanel sunglasses to protect my eyesight from the traumatic experience.

That’s not too bad isn’t it?

Bing Bing Beijing

I’ll be on top of this wall SOONER than you think. All I need is a damn driver (and a guide) to bring me from my hotel to the Great Wall.

I was supposed to go to Beijing a couple of months ago but I was sidetracked by all the shopping opportunities in Hong Kong.

This time however I’m on a mission.

I’m going straight to the heart of the Chinese capital… the heartland of 1 billion people… wonderful people with names and surnames that rhyme with all the sounds that emanate from a Szechuan frying pan: Tang, Ting, Tong, Tung. Mao, Ming, Mong, Mung.

I’ll only stay for 2 days so here’s what I planned on doing:

Day 1
1. Visit Tian An Men Square
2. Visit Forbidden City
3. Visit Silk Alley and the Friendship Store
4. Visit Wangfuijing Street
5. Go shopping (fabrics, gems, presents and random knick-knacks, FUR and EXOTIC SKINS)

Day 2
1. Visit Great Wall of China
2. Visit Summer Palace

I’ve spent far too many hours researching but I think the above should do it.

If you know any good-hearted people who live in Beijing who can show me around, please tell them to email me, bryanboy@gmail.com.

I’ll be on my own, all sad and alone.

Bryanboy Loves… and Random Cheesemax

#1 – Bryanboy loves people from Hong Kong, Santa Cruz, CA, Goleta, CA, Morristown, NJ, Austin, TX, Gilles Plains, South Australia, Pyrmont, NSW, Australia, Diamon Bar, California, McMahon Park, Singapore, Brimley, ONT, Canada, Melville, Saskatchewan, Canada, Copenhagen, Denmark, Malmo, Sweden, Neubiberg, Germany, students of Parsons School of Design, employees of Neiman Marcus in Post Oak Blvd, Houston, TX and of course, people from Yio Chu Kang, Singapore. Bryanboy loves you all you fuckin bitches!

#2 – The only thing that’s stopping me from buying this bag at eLuxury.com is the lack of time before it gets forwarded to me by my US office. I probably have left the country before it gets delivered to me. God knows whether LV Manila has this bag… The price ain’t that bad either… US$1,140!!! Oi vey!!!!

#3 – NOW THESE TWO GIRLS CAN GIVE ME A RUN FOR MY MONEY. Thanks girls for doin the infamous Bryanboy pose. I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE it!

That’s the way to do it bitches! Put one hand on your waist/hip and the other one upwards.

Gorgeous. Fucking gorgeous.

#4 – Love is all around me!

Baboosh.