Living it Large
If you can’t do it, someone has to.
At least in a small way.
A small yet vulgar way.
Har dee har har.
This is the best Bryanboy.com birthday present that I got in a LONG time.
The country’s #1 broadsheet (think newspaper for those of you illiterate bitches), dedicated 3 pages to my glorious and pretentious and fauxbuleux and trashy parrot self.
Alright, I have yet another prospect for my own TV show somewhere in North America (I’m keeping my mouth shut for now… BUT….)
For now, life can’t get any better than this y’all.
Full article can be found at:
(I’m posting the link LATER in the afternoon cause I don’t want people from the land of the brown, the natives and l’exotique NOT to buy today’s issue.)
BUY, BUY, BUY, BUY A COPY OF TODAY’S PHILIPPINE DAILY INQUIRER YOU UPTIGHT THIRD WORLD BITCHES!
It’s gorgeous! It’s madness! It’s fabulous! It’s madness! It’s fabulous madness at fabulous madness! (You gotta love Bubbles!!!!!!!!! Screw you if you don’t know who Bubbles is)
Thank you, Tim Yap, Jenni Epperson, Steve Tirona and the folks at Inquirer.
I LOVE the land of the brown, the natives and l’exotique! Long Live the Fabulous Third World!
What a nice way to start one’s morning.
I love you all!
Pop Your Cherry!
If you’re a Bryanboy.com virgin, let me pop your virtual cherry by reading some of my best (and old) entries. These foul-mouthed (and calorie-free) posts are what made me, the patron saint of pretentious people, fauxbuleux.
With over 2 million people served worldwide in the past year, surely I can’t be wrong.
It’s best to read these posts with a friend or two.
My ego is big, my mouth is foul and my asshole is wrecked.
And that’s the way I like it.
Are they vulgar? Are they entertaining? Are they hilarious? Click any of the links below to indulge in Bryanboy’s infamous verbal diarrhea.
- read | Model Citizen of the Land of the Brown, the L’Exotique and the Natives
- read | Just Because You Can’t Get One it Doesn’t Mean it’s Fake
- read | What an Awful, Awful Day
- read | You Know You’re God, Creator of the Universe, if You Can Get a Birkin Bag in a Day
- read | Go, Go, Go Goyard! Cap-e-tal Sin, We’re the Kids in America
- read | Giving British Gay Boys an Instant Sex Change
- read | We Don’t Have the Same Dior Darling. Mine Is Dior, Yours is eBay
- read | I Shot the Pervert, But I Didn’t Shoot the Cutie
- read | Disaster in St. Tropez
- read | Beauty Will Never Exist Without the Ugly
- read | Attack of the Freeloadin, Golden-Aged, Wrinkly Matrons
- read | Post-Mortem Teenage Angst at 22, Thanks to Friendster
A Token from Fargo, North Dakota
Here’s a token from Josh expressing his "deep-seated" affection and admiration for me, me and me!
As always, you all know where to contact me. Email firstname.lastname@example.org or SMS +63-915-785-1492.
Someone say bye bye to good ol teenage years cause ya ain’t a fuckin child no more. Tim, from Australia, celebrates his 20th birthday today.
Happy, happy, happy ageing, Tim from Australia! Bryanboy and your interracial best buddy Becky loves YOU, YOU and YOU!
Cheer up, both of you. Y’all look as if someone stole your virginities!
Don’t forget to invite me as the fairy godmother should you, ex-fetuses, decide to make a mixed-race mongrel baby.
Bryanboy LOVES Australians and all the shenanigans who live down under – that includes the entire Asian student population, the cute, cute wog boys, and of course, the poms that populate the kangaroo motherland.
Family of Faggots
Let’s face it – if a lesbian daughter is a curse, then a gay son is pretty much the end of the world… or a tree’s final branch.
If you think one faggot is bad enough for a family, wait till you see the Doody Family from Wolverhampton in the UK.
This from the BBC: The Doody family from Wolverhampton has been crowned The Faggot Family in a national competition, and to kick off their reign they will launch National Faggot Week.
Click here to read the article dated January 27, 2003.
I wonder what happened to the 2004 and 2005 winners. Victims of homophobia? Oh well.
A Run For Their Money
You gotta love Monique, a Filipina who lives in Vancouver, Canada. The babe with a nice set of pouty lips can sure give my favourite Singaporean boys a run for their money.
Go on then you fools – I invite YOU, yes, YOU, to emulate my infamous handbag pose. I’ll give a kiss on the cheeks and an oreo cookie who, in the words of Monique, can "capture the essence of Bryanboy".
Bryanboy Loves… and Random Cheesemax
#1 – Bryanboy loves people from Davao City, Philippines, Richmond (Slough), UK, Griffith, NSW, Australia, Astley (Bolton), UK, Knightdale, NC, Toronto, ONT, Canada, Tsutsuicho, Japan, Brentwood (Havering), UK, Amersfoort, Netherlands, Waterfall, NSW, Australia, Catania (Italy) and of course, people from Rhodes, NSW, Australia. My god, a ton of Australians eh? I like my newfound fan base. Diversify, diversify, diversify. Bryanboy LOVES you all – Identify yourselves and say hi!
#2 – Big shout out to these 2 cute people from Norwalk, Connecticut. I like these "Couples for Christ" type of photos.
#3 – Please spread the word about my new venture, www.InsideMyBag.com because you love me the same way I love you.
I think that’s it for the night.
I love you all my dear friends.
God I love my blog.
If you only knew how THERAPEUTIC it is for me to sit here, crop photos and purge whatever it is on my system.
Anyway, until then.
Oh fuck it.
I was planning to do a big bang party for Kelly and her offspring yesterday but my sister had to go to the Emergency Room at the hospital for severe cramps.
Family comes first you know (alright, Hermes comes first before Family but you know what I mean) so I had to drop by and visit her.
Thank god she’s alright. She got confined for a day and we picked her up earlier this afternoon. The doctors thought she had appendicitis (sp?); one check-up with the OB-GYNE (sp?) and it’s just cramps/hormonal imbalance. *whew*. I love my sister to bits. Even if she’s the evil bitch troll from hell.
Thank god I’m not a woman.
God knows what she had for painkillers though. Seriously, that lucky bitch must have been in heaven, with her painkillers being dripped via IV/dextrose.
I was about 15 minutes late from my shoot yesterday for Fudge Magazine because of the damn traffic and when I got to the studio, we needed more clothes and accessories so I sent my maid and my driver back home to fetch more stuff.
The shoot went well; I ended up eating pizza – I know, I know, I’ve been trying to combat hunger these days by abusing Xanax – a pill and a half makes the hunger go away. Unfortunately, I’m too old to purge, purge, purge and I’m even older to have an eating disorder. I’m not Karen Carpenter you know. I’d rather accept myself despite of being too plump already. I mean, I’m the one responsible why I’m curvy anyway; I love food!
You guys have got to see the photos. I won’t go into detail (hello confidentiality) so y’all gotta either a) buy a copy of Fudge Magazine, November 2005 issue and/or b) wait until next month when I get my own copy and I’ll scan the pictures and post them here. Obviously I recommend that you go for option A… but sadly, most of you aren’t from the land of the brown, the l’exotique and the natives aka Filifuckingppines
Return of the MatronAirs
Not too long ago, I wrote a piece about my experience with MatronAirs at my aesthetician’s clinic. Well, a fan sent me the ultimate North American MatronAir. Meet MatronAir Force Starr Jones.
Louis Vuitton handbag and wallet, Dior Sunglasses, Gucci reading glasses, nasal spray, marlboro lights, Hermes bracelet, mirror, Motorola phones
You people really know how to make one’s day, don’t you?
Keep the love coming! Be creative! Be spontaneous
What’s stopping you from showing your unconditional, undying love to me? If little toddlers can carry Versace bags and dress up in heels, why can’t you?
I need people of the vaginal kind to send me pictures of love and adoration. Just because each and everyone of you LITERALLY don’t have balls it doesn’t mean you FIGURATIVELY don’t have balls.
Stop procrastinating bitches! Send your love to email@example.com or SMS +63-915-785-1492.
There’s even a small mini Bryanboy-look-alike contest someobody did in their office here in the Philippines. Separate at birth? You decide.
Check out some this photo album of my fans in Singapore.
I love my Singaporean fans. Love Love Love you all! I know NOBODY can emulate me beeeeeetches, I give them A++++ for trying though. A++++ for Effort. Even if there’s a pizza hut on the background…and god knows whatever handbag that is he’s holding. Yeah, yeah, I’m flattered. =)
All these Singapore craziness is inspired by this photo, of course.
My god, look how influential one picture can be!!!! Amazing eh?
It’s NICE to try hard. It’s even NICER to try harder. But nothing can beat the one who tried the HARDEST. If everyone put some effort on everything that they do, the world will become a better place.
Go on then. I invite you to take a shot at your best Bryanboy pose and send me a photo. I’ll give you an oreo cookie and a kiss on the cheek firstname.lastname@example.org.
No, not the Harry Winston kind.
Looks like I’m back on my little showbiz trash mag obsession again.
I bought 2 issues of People magazine at the hospital shop earlier and boy oh boy we’re in for a treat.
It’s amazing how he turned out to be this boylet of a man after all these years.
Look at that William person – he’s balding, he’s got rabbit teeth and he’s just icky.
Harry on the other hand…
(Note: I know my DAD reads my blog. Bah!)
Let’s just say…. Harry oh Harry…
WE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE you.
What’s wrong with a little fantasy anyway?
Single-mother Kelly van der Birkinson is thrilled to announce the arrival of her first children, Daria van der Birkinson (miniature pinscher) and Louis Vuitton Monogram Waltz/Macha bag.
Thank you very much to those of you who joined the contest. I’ve received dozens upon dozens of entries
Contrary to what people think, no, it’s not a Fendi Spy Bag, a Chloe Paddington Bag, a "high-end" designer chain, a pair of shoes, an ostrich Kelly bag, a black patent leather Prada handbag, 2 male chicks or an iPod Nano.
Kristy from Washington D.C. even thought Kelly’s gonna give birth to a pair of kangaroos!
Oi vey! As much as Kelly loves group sex and getting gangbanged, her eggs aren’t capable of carrying such enormous offspring.
If there’s anything that should benefit from kangaroos… or from the land of kangaroos down under, that would be me – and it better include hot sex with the hundreds of thousands of 18-30 year old fit, tanned and delicious surfer boys that populate their land.
Bryanboy Loves… and Random Cheesemax
‘#1 – Bryanboy loves people from Lindfield, NSW, Australia, Lyon, France, Oslo, Norway, Lavrune, France, Rovaniemi, Finland, Zurich, Switzerland and of course, people from Dubai, United Arab Emirates. Bryanboy loves y’all – identify yourselves bitches and say hello!
#2 – Boy George busted and arrested for Kate Moss possession. Citizens of the world you’ve been warned. Please be careful where you stash your fine South American powder. It’s not right to keep your bag near your computer.
#3 – Someone from Salt Lake City, Utah, land of the Mormons and the 2002 Winter Oympics, sent me a picture of his crotch using his work email address. He works for one of the city’s newspapers as an ad executive. Gotta love media and press people baby, some of them are just downright HORNY. Bryanboy loves you too, however, please send a picture of your face cause your crotch looks like any other crotch – is that Hanes or Fruit of the Loom?
#4 – A big, big, happy, happy, happy, happy birthday to ____. I wish you good health, genuine happiness and the very best. I know it’s not often that we see each other but there’s just something special whenever we’re together. I’ll keep it short – I’ll ALWAYS be here whenever you need me.
#5 – Keep an eye out everyone for a rather sentimental post tomorrow. I’ll talk about blessings, friendships and of course, Chanel lip gloss!
As always, you know where to contact me. Email email@example.com with messages of love, hate and luxury. SMS +63-915-785-1492.
(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.
Musings of a New-Moneyed Masochist
5:09AM, Saturday, August 27, 2005.
As I’m typing today’s entry, the country’s #1 newspaper/broadsheet is probably being dropped off at various newstands around this third world hell hole that I live in. That’s right. 7,107 islands… and them some.
After all this time who knew I’d end up in the papers. I’m quite honored to be asked to contribute to the Philippine Daily Inquirer.
Well, not me personally, but my verbal diarrhea.
Oh yes bitches.
I have to admit – my article was written (and sent… I’m sorry!) in the last minute. I literally wrote it the same day as my deadline was because I’ve been horribly busy the past few days.
I thought my article lacked structure… and substance.
But practice makes perfect.
I have NO writing skills whatsoever of any kind. Carrie Bradshaw my fucking asshole.
Whatever it is that you read from me comes from the cocaine-covered walls of my aorta, my mucus-covered lungs and drenched-in-motor-oil guts.
I showed the link to my mom yesterday and she couldn’t even believe I can write such thing.
In fact, she couldn’t even believe I know how to write — the only thing she knew that I knew is to do a John Hancock whenever I go shopping.
Nevertheless, my old, fat bitch of a moodrums is a proud, happy woman.
Wanna know what I wrote? Click the link below.
Musings of a New-Moneyed Masochist: Freeloaders Exposed
I asked my maid to buy 10 copies of the newspaper once the clock hits 6AM. I’ll scan and post a shot as soon as I get hold of a copy.
Bryanboy Blast Off!
A new friend (yet the warmest and one of the most good-hearted people I’ve met) of mine is throwing a little cocktail/booze party in my honor (gasp) tonight.
If you got the invite, please try to come. You know who you are. It’s always nice to hang out and spend time with people.
C.R.L - I am SO sorry for not making it last night despite me asking where your pad is. I tried my best to diassociate myself from laziness but with the rain pissing madly, I decided to stay indoors. I was out quite early yesterday because I had to pick up our passports and tickets from the travel agency — in Malate! My brain exploded from all the low-flying maya, pigeons and doves that I saw when I went to Robinson’s earlier. I have never seen such scenery before I couldn’t help but wonder whether or not Manila’s red light district is back in full swing again.
Excuses excuses excuses. Pfft.
I hope there will be a ‘next time’ and I hope my rain check didn’t bounce because of insufficient
On the subject of time, I still haven’t packed my Prada leather mini-trunk/large suitcase yet.
I promised myself all I’m gonna bring is my toiletry kit and empty Prada nylon bags but I couldn’t resist taking clothes and stuff out of my wardrobe.
My #1 rule whenever I travel is to exceed the free baggage allowance. Overpack, overpack, overpack and then shop.
By doing so, it gives me an excuse to buy more suitcases.
I’m honestly tired at the moment – been up all day yesterday but I won’t sleep until I see my article in print.
The later I sleep today, the later I get up.
Besides, I’m gonna do an all-nighter today. I have to check-in at the airport on Sunday dawn.
After the Bryanboy Blast Off! party, we might go to La Embajada (not sure) then to the airport.
Who knows, I’ll probably fly drunk.
Enough ramblings for now – I asked my maid to buy papers. I’ll post the scans when she comes back.
Queen of Tactful Tack
Good afternoon bitches. Buy the Philippine Star – quick! There’s a lovely article written with me on it. Although the powers that be censored the thing (of course, it’s one of the country’s top 2 daily newspapers – I doubt they’ll publish anything in true blue profanity-infected-and-infested Bryanboy style), I have to say I love it. The people at Star are good — everyone go hail them. Click the graphic below for the full-sized version.
Despite not getting a full page printed shrine dedicated to my glorious self, I got HALF of a page, which isn’t bad at all. At least it ain’t a 1 column inch printed at the "Prostitutes for Rent" or something whatever classifieds section. I’m very very happy. Gotta love the illustration, too.
I wished they published my true secret for success.
"No such thing as super powers babe. I ain’t Nuclear Wintour as of yet. My key to success is excess and bulimia. Feed your soul, your heart and your mouth with as many things as you can digest – extremities, food, booze, fashion, travel, partying, people, everything. As soon as you get home, all you need to do is to do is to sit down in front of a Lalique bowl, stick two or three fingers up your throat and then purge it all out.
*No offense intended, of course, for those who have eating disorders. Bulimia is the only word I can think of to describe what I want to say."
At least they printed my "desperate to BECOME a housewife" plea.
That’s supposed to be:
"I need a gorgeous, eye-candy type, sober, stable, independent male (or female) flatmate so I can move out of my hellhole parent’s birdcage soon. Please be fabulous. Please be fun. And please be fantastic. No under the sheets obligation required. I just want it to be completely platonic… ok… I want it kind of like a mini version of the Big Brother House. I don’t want to be spend my weekday evenings alone on my own inside my future pad. Send me a message or call me. Lines are open 24 hours a day, 7 days a week: +63-915-785-1492 or email firstname.lastname@example.org.
Otherwise, I’ll just patiently wait for the movie offers, the book deals, the magazine contributing editorships, the TV commercials, the drama series, the handbag lines, the fragrance launches, the flopped nightclub and restaurant offers as I blog my way to fabdom."
Thanks, Naz (Queen Noor) for the great write up. Don’t y’all love it? I do! Now back to our usual programming…
I finally dragged my lazy, long-haired ass to the salon yesterday and got a haircut. I’ve been procrastinating for far too long on my ebony locks. Yes I need another lipodissolve session again. My arms are fucking enormous now. Don’t you dare make fun of my batwings.
I then went to People’s Palace for a quick snack and to meet Gian to return his CDs. Thursday nights are his nights – he spins at the Manila DJ Club for his weekly Fluxxe party.
Apres People’s Palance, I went to Tina’s house because Gian has to spin for his party.
There was a "Youthopia" party thrown by Pond’s (yes, Pond’s as in Pond’s – you know, the stuff that you use on your face/body/whatever that you can get from the supermarket) but Tina and I decided not to go there… we sorta wanted a quiet/relaxed night out. We went to Cuisine (at Embassy) to meet a couple of friends for drinks and chit chat.
We then went to Manila DJ Club (it’s my first time). Finally… after not going to Gian’s Fluxxe party (it’s been running for a couple of weeks now), I finally showed up. It was fun. It was scary at first because the first thing that greets you right in the parking area (they have valet) is ROCK and I mean hardcore ROCK music – there’s a couple of rooms, I think and then an outside patio/balcony area. Everything was fine after going upstairs to Gian’s room. The music’s alright – it’s definitely a different crowd compared to our usual haunts – it’s refreshing to an extent – it’s all good.
We cut our night short – it’s a weekday afterall. You know how rare… extremely rare… for me to go out during the weekdays.
Bryanboy Loves… and Random Cheesemax
#1 – Bryanboy loves people from the state of Kansas (shit they have internet there?), Sacramento & Beverly Hills, CA and folks from (again) Melbourne, Australia.
#2 – I’ve finally flushed you down the toilet bowl along with my used tampon. I should have done that 10 years ago, right when I started getting my monthly period.
#3 – A desperate person can never have too much love. Send me more love – again – no photoshopped pictures please. Get a fuckin piece of paper and tell me you love me. Take a picture of it and email email@example.com. That’s how FUCKING easy it is.
Validate my fucking existence.
Everyone has a god damn camera this these days. Digital cameras, webcams, even most phones now have cameras. I’ve created a photo album where I’ll post all the love… and manna from heaven. Just give me and my assistant some time to compile and crop them to a reasonable size etc.
As always, feel free to contact me. You have my digits, you have my email address.
P.S. I love you all!
Some early morning babble here. I’m having another costochondritis attack and my ribs are aching – there’s no better way to wait for the xanax to kick such as posting here.
If I’m not mistaken, sending unsolicited faxes, like spam, to random fax numbers/companies is illegal in the USA.
But I’m in the third world so that gives me
international & diplomatic immunity.
So here’s what I did earlier.
I searched on goodolgoogle for some random fax numbers of some publishers and literary agents – Simon & Schuster, IMG (yes, they do literary arts too, but heck, I want to be a superdupersuperdupersupermodel), Time Warner, Random House, etc. Once I had that list, I blasted their faxes with a simple, 1-page fax. Here’s a copy of the PDF file that I faxed and here’s a little graphic of what the fax looked like.
Seriously, I think it would be a fantastic thing for me to have my own coffee table book with all my pictures on it and my tales and my squabbles. It would be a very nice thing to have on each and every table or desk in the whole wide world. Your visiting guests will love you better than the stack of JC Penney or Victoria’s Secret catalog or whatever that you’ve got under your sofa.
Anyway, I could’ve selected a better-looking picture of me but I decided to be sedated. I mean, fuck it – it was around 4:30AM when I did the thing. Besides, I don’t want them to have some culture shock.
Hopefully by tomorrow, the lucky recipients of
my magic fax (otherwise known as gossipping
watercooler receptiobitches) will pass along my
domain name thru intraoffice gossip, post-it notes,
word of mouth etc.
Who knows, I might be set for global domination – KNOCK KNOCK CLICHE – a coffee table book, a clothing line, fragrance and then hollywood!
All it requires is a thick face darling. And there’s no other face thicker in this planet than mine.
It’s the best week ever ever ever ever ever ever everrrrrrrrrr!
My supercalifragisocialclimbing skills have paid off and I made my first step in mainstream youth, or should I say, stale20and30somethings culture: exposure at VH1. That’s right. I’ve got a little exposure at VH1′s Best Week Ever’s blog. Remember me, remember them, put em together, remember when!
Moving on, I thought I’d let you in on a little secret. I already shared this secret with some of my British fans on a different website but since you guys are more special and cultured compared to them (they’re all provincial British people who live in farms. trust me).
Anyway, on Saturday, my sisters and I had our weekly manicures, pedicures and back massages done at our local Tips & Toes Nail Bar.
I had a small discussion with them (plus a couple of my friends on the mobile phone) and I discovered that (in addition with 5 other people I know)
I’m not the only one who usually squats
on top of the toilet bowl to take a poop.
That’s right. When the dumping gets tough, the tough squats on top of the toilet bowl to take a poop. You know — I squat on top of the toilet bowl, like standing on it, feet on the rim and then squatting over the bowl, my arse delicately suspended in the air, I drop drop drop drop em like crazy.
Sitting down doesn’t work for me unless I’ve got diarrhea.
Apparently I’m not the only one who has this weird habit. There are 5 people I know locally. In fact, if I’m not mistaken, there are 1 or 2 of British gay boys who do this too, according to some of the responses I got in that forum.
Don’t get me wrong though. We, citizens of the Filipino kind, have the same kind of toilets Americans have. Except some of us have bidets etc. It’s not as if we have one of those "elephant-foot toilets" in Greece that I saw on TV or those "hole in the ground" things they have in Indonesia when I visited a friend’s house in Bali.
But yeah, in all seriousness, I like squatting on top of the toilet bowl. The entire pooping experience is effortless. You just squat there and off you abort the kids into the fishbowl. The pope will be very proud of you. Heck, even my cousin Donna does it. I think, to my knowledge, we’re the only ones in our clan who does it. Everyone else sits down with their feet on the ground.
Apparently this habit is good for the colon. Like that even matters when your colon gets pushed by several inches of penile meat anyway.
So what about you my darlings? Any other members of the squatting brigade? Go on. Don’t be shy. Admit it. If you haven’t squatted on top of the toilet bowl, give it a try and report your experience back to me. You’ll loves it.
Isn’t it the BEST WEEK EVER?
Remember me, remember them,
put em together, remember when!