Work ittttt! Exercise!
After approximately 3 weeks of channeling domestic goddess Martha Stewart, I finally put my best dancing shoes on and went to the city yesterday evening to infuse some nightlife into my system. I’m seriously surprised how I managed to stay indoors in the past couple of weeks. Shit, I’ve been hibernating in my own little world filled with plaid aprons, white carnations and yellow daisies.
Any child of MY age SHOULD BE out there indulging in crime, mischief and scandals… or get themselves drunk till they pass out and vomit whatever they ate during the day. They should also do hard drugs, enjoy unsafe sex with multiple partners until they get sperminated or preggers and of course, catch a sexually transmitted disease that can be sorted out by a bunch of antibiotics or lice shampoo. Afterall, life is too short not to experience such hell-worthy sins.
Let’s face it, it’s a waste of youth to stay indoors on a Saturday night, especially if you’re in your late teens with raging hormones (like me). I’ve been ITCHING to expose myself to the toxicity of bars, booze and clubs so I decided to do just that.
I left the house at 10:30PM. On my way to a friend’s house, REALITY knocked on my car window while we’re waiting for the stoplight to turn green: the REAL and SAD face of the "FAUX-bulous" third world I live in.
Why is there a young boy, probably younger than 10 years old, selling flowers on the streets late at night when he should be at home asleep?
And there I was… all comfortable in my fully-airconditioned crappy car, all dolled up and decked in ridiculous outfits + accessories that can pretty much feed this child for a year and even send him to a good school.
It really made me think for a second and trust me, this doesn’t happen VERY OFTEN considering I’m the most selfish and materialistic son of a bitch you’ll probably ever come across.
I kinda felt guilty about my sins so I gave the kid a bag of chips and a bottle of gatorade that I had in my car.
He smiled and thanked me. I asked if I can take a photo, he said yes. I thanked him and I closed the window.
I tried to delete, delete, delete, abort, abort, abort, whatever just happened from my head. It wasn’t the right time to think about charity and world peace. My mission for the night is to have fun and paint the town periwinkle. The most important thing in the world at that moment is the fact that I’m so fucking beautiful and that was that.
Anyway, I picked up my friend at her place. I also asked my driver to stop by at the cash machine so I can take out some cash. Usually I don’t take out that much since everywhere I go takes credit cards – booze, food, botles of champagne, drug dealers, hired hitmen, shit, even prostitutes these days take credit cards… all it takes is one swipe on their ass cheeks and they’re yours for the night.
So yeah, US$20 is enough for the night to cover highway toll-fees, fast food take out, tips, my driver’s fee, etc.
After entering my pin number, the machine asked how much cash I wanted to take out.
Out of nowhere, I had mental images and flashbacks of the street child’s face. The thought of using my visa card to pay for a night’s worth of debauchery gave me a weird feeling at the pit of my stomach. Gone are the days where I’d easily and effortlessly throw my plastic to the air and rack up a 6-foot long bar tab in 6pt Arial font.
I figured I’m gonna ditch the visa for once and pay in cash the entire night so I don’t go overboard. Afterall, there are children starving on the streets. I entered P3,000, which is about US$60.
Our first stop was this bar called "Nuvo" where we spent quality time chatting. I had a gin tonic and 3 frozen margaritas. It was refreshing indeed.
We then went to my usual haunt, La Embajada. They recently got renovated and it’s the first time I went there after their renovation. They now have 2 VIP areas, which is a good thing.
I thought I’d do the infamous Bryanboy pose. Afterall, it was at La Embajada where I gave birth to that pose.
There weren’t a lot of familiar faces so it was fun to let my hair down for a change, get all sweaty and wrecked.
It’s refreshing to ditch the glitz, the glamour, the pretension and just dance, dance, dance and sweat like a fuckin rapist!
A fan from Australia even approached me and said hi. See, I’m nice and I don’t bite. I got a photo of us taken. Shit, I probably scared the living hell out of her. HAHAHHA. Sorry babes!
Man, it’s just like the good ol’ days when me and my sister would go to the club, booze our guts out, dance like there’s no such thing as tomorrow.
I must have lost 5 pounds from all that dancing! To hell with it, I had a complete body workout.
This guy is a good DJ. For the life of god I can’t remember his name and I’ve seen him many, many times.
Sunglasses by Gucci, bracelet from Hermès, cropped hoodie by Norma Kamali for Everlast, tank top by Fake London, jeans by Fake London, shoes by Dior Homme, Ursula Elise bag from Marc Jacobs collection.
The Marc Jacobs bag is available at all Marc Jacobs boutiques worldwide, Neiman Marcus, Saks, Bergdorf and eLuxury (US$1,050) in the USA.
We left the club at around 3:30AM. I dropped my friend home then I stopped by at McDonald’s for a post-clubbing snack. I orderedd chicken nuggets, 2 large fries, a double cheeseburger, a big mac and a large coke.
And yes bitches, I ate them all. There goes my 5 pounds eh?
Today’s Obligatory Paparazzi Shot
Due to high demand from my readers, I am now gonna post an "obligatory paparazzi shot" going on forward. Many of you have emailed telling me you enjoy these shots so I’ll try to do this often.
Isn’t it my cropped hoodie sooo Muslim chic? Perhaps I should make a trend out of the burka. Sooo sexy!
5 SECONDS OF TV AIR TIME
Guess who got 5 seconds of TV Air Time in San Diego, California?
I’d like to give a big shout out to Peter from San Diego. In his own words, "thousands of San Diegans know that somebody in San Diego loves Bryanboy."
Peter sent a text message to be shown on the big screen in between performances. It’s a concert featuring Mary J. Blige, Rihanna, Chris Brown and other folks.
Visit Peter’s website at http://www.petterz.com.
Thanks babe. You’re a doll!!! You’re doing the world a big favor by spreading my gospel and the glory of my faggotry.
Those Europeans sure do know how to make a gook like me happy. They love their labels as much as I do.
Meet Oliver from France…
…Terry from Italy
… and of course, the father of my first born child, Alex from the UK, who is the original "I LOVE BRYANBOY mascot.
It’s Sunday, 6:54PM. I’m gonna work on Podcast #006 and my much-awaited Bryanboy Loves… and Random Cheesemax post.
You all know where to contact me. Email firstname.lastname@example.org or SMS +63.915.785.1492.
I love you all. Don’t do anything that I won’t do and remember kids, keep your chastity belts on.
PS. Discuss this blog post here.
February Ends With the Letter "L".
Louis Vuitton, Lancome, Ladyboy Love at La Embajada.
I’m sorry for the lack of updates. I’ve been AWFULLY busy the past few days it’s just CRAZY!
I guarantee that today’s update will knock you off your seats… especially my pictionaries.
Are you ready?
My February ended with a bang. Little miss third world gay
socialite wannabe went out in full force on Tuesday… I got drunk
before sunset and sobered up before dawn.
It’s times like these when I feel that my life is nothing but one big party.
It’s amazing how I can stay at home, indoors, for 3 whole days like
a hermit with no social life whatsoever and then go out as if I’m the
Oh well. :)
First stop: Louis Vuitton.
Louis Vuitton notified me that my green perforated speedy had
arrived. I went to the store for a viewing session and I have to admit
I liked the pink one better. I told them to put it on hold until
Thursday or Friday to decide whether or not I’ll get it. I picked up a
couple of items though – a new ipod case (FYI, I bought a new video
ipod), a little pouch thingie for random sundries and 2 bandanas.
I promised my Mexican friend Mauricio, who now lives in Madrid, that I’m not gonna buy any Louis Vuitton bags this year.
I’m supposed to be doing my best to go "logo-free" but Louis Vuitton is just proving it hard. *sigh*
Next Station: Lancome
You know an event is a success if there’s someone who left the party intoxicated. In case of Lancome, **I’M** the unlucky bastard who got drunk after more than 5 glasses of white wine, 4 glasses of champagne and a glass of vodka tonic. Shit, I have NEVER drunk in BROAD DAYLIGHT! I got there at 3:15PM and left at around 6PM all tipsy.
Lancome threw a launch party for their Blanc Expert Neuro-White line at M Cafe. I’m sooo glad I wore a white t-shirt (Zara).Otherwise I’d feel out of place in a sea of white.
Remember how I got a miniature pinscher late last year (Daria) then she passed away after a month due to a kidney+liver infection? I still miss my baby.
There were 2 canine cuties at the event… a few folks told me I should get myself a pooch but I don’t think I’m ready. I think it’s a sign that I’m better off with dead animals (i.e. fur, leather, steak, exotic skins) rather than have a real, live one. Besides, I already have a cat and a dog.
I went to a local designer’s atelier for a fitting session after the event. I also popped by at the gas station to grab some hotdogs on my way home. I ***LOVE*** pigging out with gas station food. I had like 3 hotdogs the other day. It’s soo damn satisfying.
Trust me, life ain’t a 24/7 festival of caviar and foie gras. Sometimes… yes, sometimes, it’s fun to rough it up and eat trash.
I was sooo drunk (and full) when I got home. I slept for around 2 hours. I got up at around 11:30PM, showered, dressed up and went to Embassy.
Last stop: Embassy High
Man, who would have thought my favourite Manila nightclub, Embassy,
is one year old? I swear to god, it felt like it’s been there for AGES
cause it’s pretty much the ONLY place/club I go to. Hah!
Yesterday’s theme was "Embassy High". A lot of people wore school-like outfits i.e white shirts, shorts, ties, etc.
I on the other hand went all out in my regalia.
I’m at a complete loss of words so I’ll let the pictures tell the
story. Y’all wouldn’t believe how many times I got hit on by guys. It’s
People who are new to my blog sometimes think I’m a tranny because I
wear handbags, lip gloss, tight jeans etc.I always defend myself by
telling them I’M NOT A FUCKING TRANNY… I’M JUST A REALLY EFFEMINATE
Fuck it though.
They want tranny, I’ll get them tranny.
I only have one thing to say.
DONTCHA WISH YOUR GIRLFRIEND CAN SUCK COCK LIKE ME?
DONTCHA WISH YOUR GIRLFRIEND IS A FREAK LIKE ME?
TUESDAY night was definitely SOMETHING.
I had SOOO much fun.
I also had an early night. I got into the club at around 12:30AM and left the club at around 3AM.
My damn driver fell asleep and the bastard won’t pick up the phone. I had to wait for 30 minutes outside the club, looking all cheap, trashy and whore-ish.
THANK GOD I saw a couple of acquaintances who offered me a ride. I told her all I wanna do is look where my driver parked my car. I had to knock on the windows for 5 minutes before my driver got up.
My acquaintances told me to fire him but I won’t. I had to cut him some slack. He’s been up on the road since 8AM.
Tuesday was nothing but fun, fun, fun. I LOVE IT.
I think that’s it for now. A lot of things happened yesterday, Wednesday, and I’ll post them later when I get up.
I love you all as always.
Email email@example.com or SMS +63-915-785-1492. Bombard me with messages of love and hate so I’ll have a smile on my face when I get up.
Tell me I’m pretty!
Tell me you love my vagina.
PS. Discuss this blog post here.
P.P.S.S. Man, I feel like a woman!
Red is the Color of Love
10 more days and it’s Valentine’s Day. My ugly little brown ass is still single, just like it had always been (for the past 3-4 years).
I’m not being demanding. In fact, I’m probably the most reasonable person EVER.
I’m not even asking for a boyfriend. All I’m asking for is a date with a tall, cute guy who will buy me expensive dinner, expensive champagne and give me a tiny red box with a large shiny gift from Cartier.
Anyway, I was cropping the latest batch of photos and I suddenly remembered (OUT OF NOWHERE) an online chat conversation I had with a French one-night stand. I met him a couple of days before I left Paris; we now talk on MSN (webcams and all) every once in a while.
Here’s how the conversation went:
Me: You know what’s weird? The older I seem to get, the younger guys I attract. I hate it. I need a nice man to protect me, not a friggin fetus. All of the guys I get these days are young ones.
Him: You get old… so they’re looking for a sugar daddy.
Me: Some of these guys have disposable incomes so I’m sure that’s not the case. But maybe you’re right. The young ones tend to be attracted to me because of what they see. They think I have money. Oh I hate it. I could never win in this game.
Him: Hahahaha! You are NOT classic enough for the old guy. You are too fashionable. LOL.
Me: I am not "too fashion"
Him: But you are young and young people are like that. Older guys, they want Ralph Lauren Polo and gray pants. SOMEONE THEY CAN SHOW TO THEIR PARENTS LOL
I wanted to slap the mother fucker right then and there.
When you think about it, maybe he’s right.
Perhaps that’s the reason why I’ve been single all along. I’m sooo OUTRé! I am soo in-your-face. Everything about me is distinct: my drug-fucked drag queen voice, my in-your-face clothes, my scary eyes, my trademark onion bulb nose etc.
Maybe… just maybe… I’m good enough for a fuck.
Maybe two fucks. maybe three fucks.
No, make that four fucks.
Shit, I’m probably even good enough as a mistress… or someone in a relationship would cheat with.
But will I ever be good enough to be shown to someone’s parents, cigarettes, bad makeup, warts and all?
I don’t know.
Nobody has tried!
Perhaps the Frenchman was right this time.
Oh well. I’ll tone down when I get my Senior Citizen Discount card.
By the meantime, I hope you enjoyed my paparazzi-style pics. I really need a full-time paparazzi to be on call on my shameless self-promotion PR shots. Hah! Anyone willing to take my photos for free? Email me. I have nothing to give other than sexual favours.
Believe it or not, it’s been quite awhile since I’ve set foot inside a gay bar/club here in the third world.
Government reopened its doors last night after a quick renovation and it was the perfect time to do a "GAY NIGHT" with gay friends and acquaintances.
Bah, everyone is gay these days anyway. There’s the gay-curious brigade, the gay-acting straights, the gays-in-denial… the list goes on and on.
I had soo much fun yesterday… considering I only went out for no more than 3 HOURS! I lost a ton of weight from all that sweating, dancing and roaming I did around the club. I remember getting there at around 1:30AM and I got home at no later than 4:30! It was speed-clubbing at its finest.
Bryanboy Loves… and Random Cheesemax
#1 – Bryanboy loves people from Lancaster, Blackpool, UK, Houston, TX, Manama, Bahrain, Camberwell, VIC, Australia, Stettenberg, Bayern Germany, Moriyacho, Kanagawa Japan, Istanbul, Turkey, Oviedo, FL, Loughborough, UK, Lersen, Staden Kobenhavn Denmark, Tempe, NSW Australia, Malmo, Sweden, Boulogne-Billancourt, France, Askim, Norway, Tokyo, Japan and of course, all my friends from Micarone, Abruzzi Italyyyyyy! I love each and every one of you. Say hi, don’t be shy!
#2 – Big shout out to Altair Drexel of Kelowna, BC Canada! No… I haven’t seen Bareback Mountain yet. Feel free to burn my toes with a cigarette… I’ll watch it soon though. PROMISE!
#3 – I just found out not EVERYONE can view photos hosted on a Flickr website. Several people emailed me and there are some companies out there who blocked their servers from accessing Flickr. My oh my. Don’t worry though… I’m **THIS** close to coming to a solution. I’ll be hosting all my new images at a different hosting site now.
#4 – I HATE MY FRIEND LOUISE FROM SWEDEN. I made her 2 "I Love Louise" pictures and all I got was a crappy photoshopped piece of shit. You know how ****I**** despise photoshop. I’m not even gonna post what she made.
#5 – I can’t believe I missed the Goyard Boutique opening in San Francisco yesterday, Friday. It’s the first Goyard boutique in the world aside from the one in St. Honore in Paris! I’m truly honored to be invited (in spite of haven’t been to San Francisco in my entire life. Oi!) and I genuinely appreciate the gesture.
#6 – JUST KISS ME ALREADY. I AM TIRED OF PLAYING THE GAME. YOU KNOW I LIKE YOU, I KNOW YOU LIKE ME TOO. OK, MAYBE NOT. BUT PLEASE, FOR THE LIFE OF GOD, JUST FUCKING GRAB MY ARM THE NEXT TIME YOU SEE ME AND GIVE ME A GOOD TONGUE ACTION.
#7 – Small favor to those of you who live in the third world. Does anyone around here have a copy of yesterday’s (FRIDAY) Philippine Star newspaper? I have a photo there somewhere. Please, pretty please, look for my photo and scan it for me. I’m begging you. I’ll give you a kiss on the cheek and an oreo cookie if you do this teeny weeny favor for me. Email firstname.lastname@example.org. Thanks!
I think that’s all for now.
Email email@example.com or SMS +63-915-785-1492. TELL ME YOU LOVE ME.
Be happy, be pretty and be gorgeous. Don’t do anything I won’t do.
I went to a friend’s birthday party at Cuisine (Embassy) and man, I drank like a proper alcoholic. The booze overflowed like crazy – I probably had 15 or so drinks and consumed no less than 3 packs of cigarettes..
I got up at 4PM today with a massive hangover… as if that’s something new.
Happy birthday Tim!
Jenni and the birthday boy Tim doing the infamous Bryanboy pose.
It was a night of fun, laughter and giggles, thanks to the balloons, clowns, carnival and circus-like characters (literally, not figuratively… what were you thinking? guilty as charged? hah) that peppered through the entire night.
I toned it down a notch yesterday… wore a simple polo tee, some tight jeans, Chanel bag and boots. I have never seen far too many beautiful people in my life… for the first time ever, I didn’t feel overdressed. Heh!
I met a shitload of people yesterday, it’s amazing.
Tomorrow’s gonna be a big day for me. I’m going to one of the country’s biggest media and publishing powerhouse to meet people… and I’m feeling restless.
1. I have nothing to wear. Appropriately.
2. I’m meeting new people I’ve never met before. How many times have I ranted on my blog I have absolutely NO social skills whatsoever?
3. I’ll most likely be the focus of their attention.
4. I’ll be talking about myself. You know how I get squirmy talking about myself in public.
Just cross your fingers and wish me luck. I think I’ll go casual and wear my Dior Homme jacket and jeans.
Hopefully it will save me from publicly humiliating myself… and if I did make a fool of myself, at least I wore Dior Homme.
Bryanboy Loves… and Random Cheesemax
#1 – Bryanboy loves people from Nagano, Japan, Ashfield, NSW Australia, Vancouver, BC Canada, Watson’s Bay, NSW Australia, Bangkok, Thailand, Stamford, CA, Tampines Estate, Singapore, Tagene, Sweden, Tacoma, WA, Mountain View, CA and of course, people from Osaka, Japan. Bryanboy loves y’all… identify yourselves bitches and say hello!
#2 – Paranoia won’t get you anywhere. It’s all in the head. You’ve gone through a lot anyway and I’m sure it’s nothing new to you. Peanuts, anyone? Saucer of non-fat, pasteurised (and sour… not bitter) milk please.
#3 - Fuck Visine for red eyes. Anyone know of a good thing that I can put on my eyes so they won’t turn red every time I binge on booze?
I’m late for my facial. I’ll update later.
You know how to get hold of me. Email firstname.lastname@example.org or SMS +63-915-785-1492.
Be beautiful, stay pretty and keep up with the vanity. Sex might sell but being gorgeous (or trying to be gorgeous) is much, much better.
How Can Someone Be So Drunk And Still Look Good?
Here’s another reason why you should hate Paris Hilton. How in the world can she be drunk and still look fucking good?
I certainly don’t look that good when I’m drunk.
Hell, sober or not, I don’t look that good.
End of story.
Yesterday was a blast. I kicked off my day with a mini shopping trip to the city with my little sister.
I wanted to buy a present for a good friend (whose birthday is today) but I ended up buying a few things for myself. I picked up some incense, a necklace, a bracelet, a Gucci top, some Nars and Yves Saint Laurent cosmetics.
As always, no shopping trip is complete without paying a visit to my favourite haunt, M Cafe at the Ayala Museum. I had my usual lemongrass prawns + mango salad and oysters. I seriously love that place.
My sis even made me smile, in spite of having a bad hair day. Everyone knows I *NEVER* smile when it comes to photos. I hate it. I always end up looking like:
1) a rapist
2) a fake, plastic fantastic person
3) a psychopath
4) a devious, spiteful little bitch
5) and of course, a murderer
You be the judge and tell me what you think.
Apres dinner, my sis and I went home so I can shower, change clothes and go to a friend’s birthday party at Citrus.
I know I’ve been gone for (only) a month and a half but it felt as if I was gone for years. It was quite bizarre at first to see soo many familiar faces in the land of the "same old same old" – your friends, your former friends, your acquaintances, your new acquaintances, your backstabbers and your frenemies.
It’s all nice and wonderful though. It’s way better than staying at home in front of the computer (like what I usually do 95% of the time).
In spite of the booze, the palpitations and the pretense, I always learn something new every time I go out.
I always believed that I’m little miss imperfection in a bottle. Screw the cork open and I’ll create a spectacle. The more bottles you open, the further I perfect my act.
I admit – I still need to polish my social skills. Sometimes I feel like a fool for not being able to manage a decent conversation. When people ask questions, I want to be able to answer them eloquently.
The only time I can manage a decent conversation is when:
1) I’m being a bitch
2) I’m whining and complaining about something
3) the other person and I are gossipping about other people
I guess the hardest part is whenever people throw the ball in my court and ask questions about myself.
To an extent, I’m still uncomfortable talking about myself to other people, hence it’s easier to talk about others.
I was gonna add something to that "to an extent" sentence but I just realized why my blog exists!
Now I know why I’m such a pretentious, narcissistic cunt online. It’s because….
I HATE TALKING ABOUT MYSELF (IN PERSON OR IN PUBLIC), HENCE THE NEED TO PURGE IT ALL OUT ONLINE.
I think it’s true though.
I know I’m being completely rude. The reason why they’re asking questions about me is because they’re interested at me and would like to get to know me.
Anyway, back to yesterday’s events…. I have a manicure and pedicure appointment in an hour. I have to finish this post and get ready. Save the drama for a later time.
So yeah… I ended up drunk last night.
I was sooo FUCKING drunk I made statements like:
1) You know, I think I’m going to stop wearing tank tops and t-shirts for a month.
2) I think I’m gonna start wearing button-down shirts from now on.
3) I despise you!!!!!!
4) I’m not horny. I’ve lost my libido as soon as I landed at the (Manila) airport. (I told this to some guy who was cruising me at the toilets).
I wish I took more pictures last night but I was too drunk to function.
I love you all as always. Email email@example.com or SMS +63-915-785-1492.
01/12/2005, Clubbing, Moscow
It’s 1:51PM and I’ve sobered up my act. I’m having room service lunch.
God. I am soo tempted to delete the ARGHH post.
But I won’t.
(first time to have sex since I did the HIV test… who the HELL am I fooling?)
Fuck, we’re all adults anyway… and that includes my parents and my family members.
You know what’s even funny, I haven’t spoken to my parents (on the phone) in about 10 days. I’m soo embarassed to call them after everything on my blog. HAHAHAHA. I’m sure they don’t care but I’m not completely shameless.
I’ll call them when I get to Stockholm. I promise.
Yesterday was rather fun.
I met up with Nataly at around 7:30PM at this cafe called "KofiTim" aka Coffee Time on Tverskaya (right beside Piramida). Met up with one of her friends (who is a math teacher) for some gin tonic, sushi, tea, etc.
We went to Restaurant NOA to meet Jane for dinner. I had scallops – they’re sooo huge… and delicious. Jane had some sort of black spaghetti. The food at NOA is good; in fact, one of their restaurant chefs cooks for Jane’s family once or twice a week at their house.
Apres-NOA, Nataly and moi went to this bar called "12 Volt". I’ve been here a couple of times last year. There were soo many people there. Although technically it’s a gay bar, there were a shitload of lesbians and a handful of straight couples.
(She’s a lesbian. she’s nice, believe it or not. She fancies her straight girl friend, the red head behind me on the 2nd pic)
Nataly’s friend (the Evgenia guy) arrived and ooooh he’s soo cute.
Perhaps "cute" isn’t the right word to describe him. He was absolutely fit, not too muscular… think of swimmer’s bodies. He had short dark hair (I like guys with short dark hair) and nice eyes. Ugh.. he’s just nice.
It’s funny cause he could BARELY speak English.
Nataly was right – language should never be a barrier when it comes to good ol shagging.
Heck, if blind or deaf people can do it so can I.
I don’t think I’d want to meet him again though. Not this year at least… perhaps maybe next year when I come back to Moscow again.
Ugh. Enough of this faggot nonsense.
Nataly invited me to go to her university’s party at this club tonight. I think I’m going there. I mean, hey, it’s not common for a third world Filipino slut get invited to Russian university parties eh?
More updates to follow later.
I need to be fabulous and clean again. I need to shower off this third-party testosterone stench on my skin.
I love you all.
Sundays Are Gay Days
It’s Monday, 10:38AM and I just got up about half hour ago. I came back at the hotel at around 4:30.
Not too shabby for a Sunday night out.
Yesterday was fun – I even went to an Ukrainian restaurant. I wish I took my camera with me.
Here are pics from my quest (well, yesterday’s quest) for mixed-race cosmonauts.
Watcha lookin at? Hump me Sergey, hump me!
Dima’s eyes are soo soo sexy… you know, like little miss stoner pothead eyes. Love, love, love em.
He’s sooo lovely.
I’m taller than this guy but look how his arms are twice the size of mine.
Vova and I have this little whistle thing THING. He’s soo adorable.
Now that you’ve seen me flit from one boy’s lap to another (i’m telling you, it won’t be long until I become a pregnant mother fucker – I fucking have mixed-raced half-white, half-iced-cafe-latte cosmonauts swimming inside my tummy now), it’s time to show some female action.
That’s Natalya from Ukraine.
Jane dolled up and piled on my designer goodies like a proper bitch. I LOVE IT. Yes, they were purposely done in a in-your-face, distateful manner on a Novi Ruski can do. Click here for an in-depth article about Novi Ruskis by The Times Newspaper UK.
To quote Simon Mills:
"You can spot a bunch of holidaying Novi Ruskis at 200 yards. It’s not just their brusque, bear-baiting mannerisms or the linguistic glottal-stopping. The men are portly, and look like plutonium salesmen with terrible taste in swimwear; the women sport an affluent effluence of logos, diamanté-studded accessories, metallic belts and the sort of vertiginous shoes that make the debt-set dollies of Cheshire look sartorially restrained."
Jane, being my friend and all, had to do the infamous Bryanboy pose. Hahahaha!
Mark oh Mark
I met up again with one of my first Russian friends, Mark. He now lives in South Russia and took a train just to see me in Moscow.
Not only he’s changed physically (he lost weight, he’s got long hair, he’s got facial hair), his life also changed tremendously.
Our conversations were really deep and heavy… how his life has been so good last year and how it’s been worse this year: he lost his flat, his father disowned him, some of his friends passed away… ugh.. his stories were quite scary.
Remember Natasha from last year? Click here for last year’s post.
Apparently she passed away this year. Mark and Sergey were unclear on how she died (their English aren’t perfect and they couldn’t find the right English word, however, they said something about her brain/head etc) so I assumed it was due to a brain tumor.
To The Club
Mark, Sergey, me and Nataly went to Propaganda yesterday (YOU DON’T KNOW HOW MUCH I HATE THE WORD "PROPAGANDA" AND HOW EVERY FUCKIN CITY IN THIS PLANET HAVE A BAR OR CLUB CALLED "PROPAGANDA") because it was gay night.
Yes, they let us in this time.
No, there wasn’t any face control.
No, we all didn’t look gay.
OK, I looked pretty gay.
(Duh! What straight man would wear a Dior hat, a Marc Jacobs cardigan, a RED striped t-shirt from Urban Outfitters, a Chanel belt and a dead fox draped on his body?)
Apparently the woman in the middle is a famous Russian star. I have absolutely no idea on who she is.
I know I need to lose 15 more pounds. It’s NOT fun to be a heavyweight champion you know.
Dontcha just hate taking pictures inside a gay club and all these men in their finest (or rather not-so-finest) wifebeaters act as a backdrop? Ugh.
Bryanboy Loves… and Random Cheesemax
#1 – Bryanboy loves people from Ulsan, Korea, Kew, VIC Australia, Melbourne, Australia, San Diego, CA, Nashville, TN, Oxford, United Kingdom, Pudu, Malaysia, Calgary, AB Canada, Toronto, ONT Canada, Kangkar, Sinapore, Taipei, Taiwan, Mortdale, NSW Australia, all the lovely people from MOCKBA, Russia and of course, my hometown – the national capital of the land of the brown, l’exotique and the natives, Manila, Philippines!!!!
#2 – If you’re in Manila, have you bought a copy of Fudge Magazine yet? Please buy a copy of Fudge AND MEGA Magazines. I got a text message from Tanya (thanks babe) that I’ve got a photo there or some sort (Mega). Buy a copy bitches, scan the page with my photo on it, email it to me and I will forever be indebted to you. I wanna see if I look pretty there or not.
#3 – I’m going to STOCKHOLM, SWEDEN this Saturday. I gotta buy some furniture and say hello to Scandinavia. If you’re in/near Stockholm (or know anyone in Stockholm) and would like to rescue me from feeling the effects of being a lonely planet solo flight traveler (aka being lonely and miserable), please EMAIL me – firstname.lastname@example.org or SMS +63-915-785-1492. Let’s have coffee. or a drink. YOUR TREAT. Hahahahaha! Because I’m soo damn poor now.
#4 – BRYANBOY LOVES SINGAPOREANS!!! I’m telling each and every one of you bitches… I am soo goin to Singapore early next year. Heck, you better give me a a shitload of cigarettes and chewing gum to celebrate my arrival. I love you all!
#5 – Mike B. from Tampa, Florida says it all.
Keep the love coming bitches. I need some FOOD!
As always, you know where to contact me. Email email@example.com or SMS my Moscow mobile number, +7-926-437-6332.
SMS Messages are fucking cheap. Don’t just sit there and do NOTHING. Grab your mobile phone and tell me you love me.
I love you all.
I was originally gonna do little red riding hood this year but I don’t think I have the
balls guts, especially in public, to wear sheer underwear and a bloody incontinence pad.
I spent 2 hours yesterday shopping online for the perfect halloween costume and this year’s costume involves this (black boots and black heels):
More updates in a bit. I gotta take a poo.
Anna Oh Anna
The picture says it all.
U.S. Vogue editor Anna Wintour reacts after having a pie thrown at her face on her way to the Chloe show at Jardin des Tuileries in Paris October 8, 2005 as part of the Spring/Summer 2006 ready-to-wear fashion collection. Wintour had a pie thrown at her by a PETA supporter protesting against the promotion of fur in the magazine. Photo and text courtesy of REUTERS/Handout
Went to Celine’s birthday party on Saturday and boy it was fun!
I know my outfit sucked – I literally didn’t have anything to wear. I swear to god, I need to catch up on my shopping otherwise I’d be paralyzed in the next few weeks.
Saw everyone from A to, well, A. They’ve closed down the vip area strictly to those who were invited. It’s refreshing to see the "room-with-the-pink-walls-and-yellow-floors" filled with no other than beautiful people and sheer immortals, especially on a Saturday night.
(happy, happy birthday babe!)
Bryanboy loves people from Moscow, Russia, Staten Island, NY, Atlanta, GA, Plymouth, Michigan, Braslia, Brazil, Merrick, NY, Sacramento, CA, Concord, NC, Seattle, WA, Arlington, TX, Noxen, PA, Mlarhjden, Sweden and of course, people from Ringgold, GA. Bryanboy loves y’all!
More updates later. I gotta get my ass ready. I have another photo shoot to do later today and the call-time is in 2 hours.
(I’m the only one who’s not pretty. I look terrible that night. *sigh*)
There’s definitely something odd going on.
I left the house at around 9:30PM on a Wednesday night and I got
back home at 9:30AM on Thursday. That’s about 12 hours of pure
I slept at around 12:00Noon, only to wake up at 9:30PM after nine hours and 30 minutes of sleep yesterday.
What’s up with the nine-thirty? Is 9-30 the new 7-11? Should I buy lotto tickets with these numbers?
I started my night by going to Bizu to meet Tina T. who I haven’t
seen in the longest time; in fact, she was the reason why I decided to
go out today. I’ve been out of circulation the past week or two because
of my colds/cough. I was introduced to one of her childhood/best
friends. I hope she gets a Louis Vuitton Suhali bag — in blue!
When Pepper arrived, we went to Nuvo (a bar/restaurant located at Greenbelt) for a couple of drinks, met quite a few people.
Stayed there till about 1:30AM or so before heading to the VIP room
at Embassy, drank for a bit, got my YSL shoes stepped on, stepped on
other people’s toes,
Après-Embajada, Celine, Ianne, another gent and moi went to Jacques’
house for more vodka and orange fun. It’s all good and i had so much
fun. It’s one of those times when you want the night to last forever…
but you have to go early cause your evil bitch troll
sister-cum-cinderella-pumpkin-wagon-driver, your maid and your 3-month
old bitch is waiting for you inside the car, nagging on your cellphone that you have to go back home.
Desire is the ultimate necessity INDEED!
Jenni Epperson, shopping queen of the land of the brown, the l’exotiques and the natives, famous for her good finds and shopping skills par excellance, Creative Director of Just Shop magazine, and of course, the one who took memorable and unforgettabe pictures of me looking like a bloody lampshade, notified me recently that the teaser ad… and this month’s "Just Shop" magazine is availabe today!
(Click the graphic above for a larger version)
If you are FIili-flippin Filipino and you live in the CAPITAL of the land of the brown, the l’exotique and the natives (also known as Manila), be sure to get hold of "Just Shop", October Issue. I have a piece there about a mini shopping guide to some of the Metro Mall-ila’s malls.
Ya gotta love Erickson Beamon, bebe. I bought a fancy schmancy bracelet with colourful stones the other day at one of my fave shops here in Manila called Firma. It’s a little gem of a store filled with some of the most faBulous (with a capital B) finds ever — feathered fans, semi-precious stones, exotic (and the perennial matronic beaded) handbags, jewels and various accessories. They also have home furnishings!
I was supposed to get one of those US$150 faux-bling-bling watches but I opted for this bracelet instead. It’s quite pricey… around US$600, ouch, but it’s really, really beautiful. The picture doesn’t do the bracelet some justice. Trust me though – it’s soo gorgeous and I fell in love the first time I tried it on.
Erickson Beamon is available in Manila by going to Firma (Greenbelt). It’s also available on the internet by visiting Net-A-Porter.
Say hello to my new phones.
I’m really a Nokia fan and the last time I had a Motorola was back in the dark ages when the phones are as heavy as a brick and I had a trusty, crusty, Star-Tac.
I think it’s time for me to jump on that Razr V3 bandwagon, who cares if I’m late. I like how it’s thin and black and nice. I also bought a Motorola MPX220 – I love the Windows features and how the ring tones are LOUD as in LOUD. Heck, even pressing the keypad is LOUD.
I love my new phones. The only thing that’s hard is how to transfer over 400 people on my Nokia address book without the aid of hooking my phone up to computer… it’s a serious job, I’m telling you..
Consider it as a blessing in disguise at east I now have a reason NOT to include those unimportant bitches in my life. Hah!
Bryanboy Loves… and Random Cheesemax
#1- Pleasanton, CA, San Antonio, TX, Rowland Heights, CA, Montclair, NJ, Garo, Japan, Binghamton, NY, MelVille, Saskatchewan, Canada and of course, people from Grandouet, France. Identify yourselves bitches and say hello to me, Bryanboy, Our Lady of Materialism.
#2a – Calling all citizens of the land of the brown, the l’exotique and the natives. I’ve been indulging again by watching TV. I know, I know, it’s a sin I shouldn’t be confessing but seriously, WHO THE FUCK IS THAT GUY ON THE NEW SUNSILK SOFT TOUCH COMMERCIAL? HE’S SOOO FUCKING CUTE. Maybe it’s his stubble/facial hair that’s making me feel like a bitch in heat despite the fact that I normally don’t like hair on any part of the body other than one’s head?
#2b – I have a photo shoot and an interview for a local magazine in about 2 hours. I’m scared of these things. Honestly! I mean, I know I’m a camwhore… but only if it’s MY camera and not somebody else’s. I really don’t know why I’m not comfortable in front of anybody else’s camera.
#4 – I thought I was the most tactless person in the universe. I was wrong. There are a several of people out there who won’t know recognize what a dick is even if it landed on their faces.
#5 – All I can say to this other person is thank you. Thank you VERY much. I wish you the best in your future endeavours, whatever they may be.
As always, you all know where to contact me. Bryanboy@gmail.com or SMS me at +63-915-785-1492. Tell me you love me.