Bryanboy At His Rawest
People seem to have this impression that everything about me is fabulous. I don’t blame them because that’s the image I project: my life is fabulous, I love beautiful things, I drool over beautiful people, I go to nice places etc. Flaunt it cause you have it. Show it while you have it. Work it like you own it. Fake it till you make it. I dress like a princess but in reality I’m just a pauper.
In the past few months I’ve received no less than a dozen emails from people (shit, I dropped my cigarette on my crotch as I typed that sentence) with questions like "what does Bryanboy wear when he’s at home?" etc. I also get compliments from many, many people complimenting me about my skin, which I don’t really understand cause I have terrible, terrible awful skin. Hah!
It’s Monday afternoon and I just got up less than an hour ago. I’m dead bored so I figured, why not surprise you lot with what the OTHER SIDE of BRYAN looks like.
Take note of all that excess flesh… now you know why I’m promoting my watermelon diet… oh and all that stubble on my face. You probably don’t see it now but you will, later.
Anyway, all I wear at home is a plain ol tee and boxers. It’s all about comfort clothes here. No juicy couture sweats whatsoever. Sometimes I’d even roam around the house wearing nothing but some y-front briefs on.
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Now, If the image above isn’t shocking enough, the photo you are about to see will HAUNT you for the rest of your life and change the way you think of me — Le Superstar Fabuleux my fuckin asshole.