Long, Hot Summer
Remember how I recently complained on how I *NEVER* get free trips?
Well, I got my first ever "free" vacation without paying a single dime on BOTH the airfare and hotel accommodations.
I just got back yesterday morning from a wonderful weekend in Boracay Island, one of my favourite islands here in the third world. The Local Government of Malay, Aklan and SEA Air sent over 120 members of the press, local designers, models and celebrities for a weekend of food, fun and frolics. SEA Air flies several dozen times daily from Manila – the fastest way to go to the island… 35 minutes! I stayed at the Pearl of Pacific resort.
Speaking of summer, it was sooo hot in the island I was sweating VODKA round the clock. I swear to my grandmother’s grave that vodka overflowed the mother fuckin island… the more I drink, the more I sweat. I pretty much got intoxicated each and every night I was there. In fact, I got back to my old drunk dialling habits; I drunk-dialled some of my girlfriends in Manila (and all over the place) at friggin 4 in the morning. I got soooo hammered one night and I rang some of my friends whilst running on the beach on the way back to the hotel at dawn – alone and drunk. Ugh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
In spite of being on the island for 4 days, I only managed to swim once and sunbathe for about 10 minutes! I’ll definitely come back though (soon) and enjoy what the island really has to offer, sea, sun and sand, amongst other things, with very close friends and/or family.
P.S. Boys and girls, you gotta check out that new place called Asya Resort. It’s sooo GORGEOUS! All of their chic guestrooms are decorated in a modern manner and the bathrooms are extremely spacious. I love that resort and I’ll most definitely stay there the next time I’m back in the island.
What’s up with the abundance of guys emailing me recently?
From NYC to California, I’ve been getting a lot of emails (and pictures that can give any random dirty old pundit a hard on without using viagra) from all these guys recently.
For the life of god, just get a bloody plane ticket and come visit me here in the third world/Las Islas Filipinas! You know who you are. Plane tickets are cheap and I’ll give you a lovey lovey good time!
Meet Jose Luis from Mexico.
Bryanboy reigns supreme.
This breaking news is brought to you by Bryanboy.com.
You gotta love all that drama going on at one of the key forts in the Philippines. There’s a ton of hoola baloo involving the Marines… same old political-related drama etc.
I’m not even gonna bother with the specifics. Go to CNN, BBC or Google News.
One of my assistants is currently on the field taking photos…
For god’s sake just stop all this drama and get on with your lives.
This country is beautiful.
This country is fabulous.
This country is great.
Long live third world prostitution.
Long live the land of ugly, fat hookers with cellulite.
Long live mixed raced babies as a result of prostitution and miscegenation. Mixed-raced babies are the Chanel of babies.
Long live the land of little brown fuck machines.
Long live the land of the brown, l’exotique and the natives.
Long live Bryanboy.com
I love you all.
But I love Chanel more.
I’d love to hear what you think. Email email@example.com or SMS +63-195-785-1492.
PS. Discuss this blog post here.
P.P.S.S. BE SURE TO PASS THIS SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT TO ANYONE THAT YOU KNOW.
Gutom = Hunger
I thought I’d post this entry while it’s fresh from my asshole. I’d probably forget about it when I resurrect from my beauty sleep tomorrow.
I know it’s Valentine’s Day where I live and I’m supposed to be keeping an eye out on my email accounts, landline and mobile phone for a man who will wine, dine and buy me something from Cartier on the last minute.
However, hunger striked again and I had no choice but to raid the larder for a midnight snack.
I grabbed a Gatorade, a bag of Lays and some high-voltage salsa before going to my mom’s room. My mom is the ultimate partner in crime when it comes to my binge-eating sins.
She told me to stay and watch this documentary about a reporter who chose to live the day-to-day life of a starving citizen of the land of the brown, l’exotique and the natives and provide an in-depth perspective on how they survive in these hard times.
She specifically said "I hope you think twice before reaching out for your credit card when you buy another Chanel bag."
"Great," I thought.
I’m gonna have another social awareness lesson from a mad woman who once said some of the people in my country are similar to poultry because of their inability to stop producing a shitload of offspring in spite of their economic conditions. I have to give the woman some credit… it’s the truth, whether you like it or not.
Anyway, the reporter met this 28 year old married man with 8 kids. He decided it would be best to spend an entire day with him. The man lives in the shanty with no electricity etc.
He sells empty plastic bottles on the street for a living. He can’t even afford transportation… he walks more than 5 kilometers to go to the market to sell his bottles.
He also has to make at least US$2.50 a day in order to provide 1 meal for his wife and 8 kids which consists of a kilo of rice and a can of sardines. That’s their entire meal for the day.
1 can of sardines = 10 human beings
Most of the time, he doesn’t even make that US$2.50. So what they do is just buy rice… and some salt. If you think that’s awful, wait till you read this: there are days when he doesn’t make any money AT ALL.
The following day, the reporter went to another area where he met a man who has 13 kids. You read that right.
His plight is similar to the first man. Too many kids, too little money/food.
He even thought of turning into crime for a fast buck… but he hated the idea of doing so because it would be terrible for the kids if he went to jail.
He was literally in tears when he was being interviewed.
At that point, I think I’ve seen enough.
I had an enormous lump in my throat whilst watching the drama of people at the bottom of the…. to say "food chain" would be an overstatement cause they HAVE LIMITED ACCESS TO FOOD.
In an effort to lift my spirits up, I suddenly thought that it might be therapeutic if ALL of the world’s anorexics and bullemics move to Las Islas Filipinas.
But alas, the lump in my throat didn’t go away.
It really made me think how BLESSED I am to be in the position where I’m in…
And I’m not just saying that so I’ll look good in YOUR eyes.
My gut says that you probably think I really don’t give a flying fuck about these rodents who doesn’t know when to stop fucking a vagina.
Don’t worry, I won’t take it against you personally if that’s what/how you think.
To the uninitiated… or to the Bryanboy.com newbie, my little narcissistic shrine has always been a tribute to me, myself and I, my love affair for all things fabulous, luxurious, hedonistic… my love for travel, shopping, handbags, designer goods, my never-ending quest for acceptance from others and of course, my vain and pathetic attempts to looking good.
A lot of people wonder whether I give to charity because "all I do" (which, in my books, mean = all they SEE or all I WANT THEM to SEE) is have fun.
In my opinion, the point of giving to charity is to support the charity’s cause… voluntarilty, discreetly and something that comes from the heart.
I don’t understand the need to publicize or to tell anyone whenever I donate to charity. Private acts of kindness need not to be shown or told to anyone.
I REPEAT: TRUE GENEROSITY DOESN’T NEED TO BE SHOWN TO EVERYONE.
Perhaps I’ll publicize, yes, in my own circle, if, for example, I (or they) need support… fundraising events etc.
What do you want me to do… go around telling I donated this, I donated that? That’s ridiculous. Only people who run in public office do that.
At this point, I’m not even gonna point fingers and play the blame game as to who the culprit is. The damage is already here. There are people starving and they need help.
Don’t ask me for a solution either. My mere 2 brain cells is not capable of thinking something for the long-term.
I’ll be honest: thinking about eradicating poverty gives me rashes and hemorrhoids.
I AM NOT A GOOD SAMARITAN NOR I AM MOTHER THERESA.
I TAKE PRIDE IN THE FACT THAT I AM A SELFISH, POMPOUS ASSHOLE WHO WOULD RATHER LIVE MY LIFE THE WAY THAT I WANT BECAUSE MY LIFE IS MY LIFE. MY HAPPINESS IS MORE IMPORTANT THAN OTHERS. THERE IS NO OTHER INDIVIDUAL IN THIS PLANET WHO CAN MAKE ME HAPPY, SATISFIED, CONTENTED AND FULFILLED OTHER THAN MYSELF.
But as someone who, UNFORTUNATELY, have luck on his sides (thanks to his ridiculous antics and vulgar mind) to empower people, the best that I can offer at this point is AWARENESS.
Afterall, proper awareness can ignite something big… something that can benefit others instead of ourselves.
That doesn’t mean we should stop buying Chloe clothes or Yves Saint Laurent accessories. I know that’s what I did earlier this afternoon.
Shit, with everything that I said above, I should run for Miss fucking World 2006.
I’m sure I’d get the crown.
Email firstname.lastname@example.org or SMS +63-915-785-1492.
I love you all.
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.
Man, I have the WORST hangover ever.
I did a little "emergency" trip to my favourite club, Emba at around 1:30AM and got back before 6:30AM. Wore a black button-down shirt for the first time (in MONTHS!), striped Dolce & Gabbana trousers, Valentino belt, Frye boots and a wool Chanel bag.
I wish I took pictures but I left the damn camera in the car. Jenni E. looked ABSOLUTELY FABULOUS in her little orange number.
Believe it or not, I have remnants of vomit on my bedside table. The maid must have cleaned up my act while I was asleep.
I haven’t puked in the longest time.
I wish I knew how much I puked though.
I wish I puked all the junk food I had yesterday… but knowing my body, I probably vomitted gastric acid and excess saliva.
I spent 4 whole hours munching on junk food whilst watching Nip/Tuck on DVD yesterday. These 2 guys never cease to amaze me. If only our plastic surgeons are THAT good-looking and rich (ok, they’re not really good looking but they do have some sort of a sexual appeal), I’d be busy doing serious self-harm to get some car crash cosmetic surgery (and hopefully some fun fun sexual action) done.
Oh I am so bored out of my skull.
I just can’t wait to hop on a plane.
Let the countdown begin.
In less than 2 weeks I’ll be wearing my fall/winter regalia.
I **NEED** that mini winter wonderland holiday.
Screw everything at this point. I need a fucking vacation.
1 Month. 7 Countries.
I’ll be home before Christmas. ..
and then Boracay on New Year’s Eve.
I promised myself I’ll fill my 3rd passport with stamps before the year ends so I’ll have a new passport next year with a prettier photo. LOL
Next week is going to be busy; need to pick up my passport at an embassy cause they approved my visa… and then go to ANOTHER embassy the following morning for my appointment.
All these visa drama. Ugh.
Somebody just fucking give me a diplomatic or official passport already. Afterall, I’m doing a good job promoting the third world to the international community.
Sucky sucky 5 dolla, me love you long time 10 dolla, you pay 20 dolla I gib free roast duck!
Think about it – why the hell should we bring tourism into our country when the country can export the Department of Sex Trade and Beauty Industry (aka me) instead ???
Keep the Love Coming
See, even people who go to couples therapy loves Bryanboy.
Big shout out to both of these boys doing the infamous Bryanboy pose. First one’s from Greenwich, London, UK and the other one is from Singapore.
Keep the love coming.
Love comes in the form of imagery so it’s best to send your love via email – firstname.lastname@example.org.
Try to avoid "photoshopping" please.
Bryanboy Loves… and Random Cheesemax
#1 – Bryanboy loves people from Montpellier, France, Bedok Village, Singapore, Bangkok, Thailand, Reseda, CA, Jurong Town, Singapore, Souspierre, France, Helmond, Netherlands, Spearwood, WA and Box Hill & Ascot Vale VIC Australia and of course, people from Osaka, Japan! Bryanboy loves you all – identify yourselves bitches and say hello!
#2 – Take a look at Style.com’s top Spring/Summer 2006 models. They all have funny looking eyebrows.
#3 – Why does papaya have a weird aftertaste?
#4 – Can someone please tell me where I can buy high-quality but cheap fur jackets & coats/exotic animal skins/etc in Beijing?
#5 – I NEED A SUGAR DADDY TO SPOIL ME GOOD… SPOIL ME REALLY ROTTEN. PLEASE BE YOUNGER THAN 35, THANK YOU. AND YES, IT IS POSSIBLE TO CONCEIVE A CHILD AT 12 YEARS OF AGE.
#6 – Happy Birthday Astrud Crisologo!
#7 – THAT Embassy better approve my visa application. I OWN STOCK (AKA MINORITY SHAREHOLDER – I’M POOR) in one of their country’s BIGGEST companies.
#8 – Courtesy of MadeinBrazil.com – the New Gucci Boy (S/S 2006) is Michael Camiloto. Gorgeous son of a bitch eh?
Ugh. Enough male model fantasy.
Hannah Matronic, remember how I told you that we shouldn’t be fantasizing about male models (well, Filipino male models) because they’re poor, they’re dull, they’re poor, they have STDs, they’re poor, they shoved their cocks up some dirty old fag’s asshole, and best of all, they’re gonna end up as prostitutes in the future?
#9 – Danish government provide prostitutes for the disabled – at the taxpayers’ expense. Quick! Let’s all move to Copenhagen PRONTO!
#10 – I’d love to see someone with a low-hanging scrotum wear those denim shorts. Click here to see more from "Butch".
As always, you know where to contact me. Email email@example.com 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.
30 Bags in 30 Days
You have got to click on this link. That Fendi Spy Bag is giving me an orgasm. I should’ve picked one up at the Fendi Store over the weekend. God I’m such a bastard. I guess I shouldn’t feel bad cause I picked up a Goyard.
All these hot bags are up for grabs – Fendi Spy bag, Luella faux-Birkin, Hermes Kelly, Dolce & Gabbana python, Chloe Paddington, Vuitton Keepall, YSL canvas totes and more!
Bryanboy Loves Kids
Not in a sexual way, of course. I’m too young to be a pedo darling and the only ones I like are those who are waiting for Mother Morticia to pick them up on their deathbeds.
Speaking of deathbeds, I could barely get out of bed earlier. I thought I was dying.
Imagine waking up extremely late on a Wednesday, with a massive hangover, a sore throat, a runny nose and a horrible cough.
I think I have the flu… or something else. I’m definitely going to the docs tomorrow and see what they have to say.
Overall, I was completely wasted and the only thing that brightened up my day was this little present that I received via email, f
lesh fresh from Australia.
Isn’t he the most adorable thing you’ve ever seen?
Prima-facie evidence that you can never be too young to be fabulous!
Move over, Papa John!
Move over, Papa John cause we’ve got a new breed of sex tourists in town! Old, hairy white pensioners are out! Who knew that Angeles City (prostitute central) now attracts a ‘younger’ kind of crowd?
Meet Dan, a 23 year old from Simi Valley, California, who likes to bang 3 prostitutes at the same time. One can only imagine where his tongue and his cock goes to… STD-infested orifices that hundreds, if not thousands, of cocks have landed before. Eugh. How disgusting! I dunno who to feel sorry for. The girls who sell their souls and their dignity in exchange for cash, or the horny-as-hell-and-damned-proud-of-it white man who goes around waving his std’ed-pogo-stick.
Welcome to the land of the brown, the l’exotique and the natives!
Bryanboy Loves… and Random Cheesemax
#1 – Bryanboy loves people from New York City, NY (that includes a certain somebody from FHM USA… he knows who he is), Columbus and Toledo, OH, Osaka, Japan, Amstelveen, Holland, Salt Lake City, UT and of course people from Loves Park, IL and Guaynabo, Puerto Rico. Bryanboy loves y’all.
#2 – Many thanks to Jackie and Marco for taking care of me on Tuesday. Leslie, you gorgeous, gorgeous mama, sorry I didn’t make it to the club tonight. It would be horrible and extremely awful of me if I go out and infect each and every one of you with my third world germs. It was nice to chat with you the other night and I hope to see you again in the future, NYC, Manila, wherever it may be.
#3 – Exclusive Interview with Uncle Karl. Warning to my fellow countrymen: the Philippines is not even acknowledged by Dom Perignon on the location drop down menu. That’s how THIRD-WORLD we are. Click here to see the interview.
#4 – It’s bye bye Lacroix for Pucci and hello Matthew Williamson.
#5 – A big hello, hugs and kisses to my fan Sylvia, who lives in Milan, Italy. Lucky, lucky bitch for being soo near to the shows and easy access to all the stores etc. Bitch bitch bitch bitch bitch!
#6 – Milan Fashion Week is at full swing. Every gay boy’s favourite designer, Dolce & Gabbana’s 20th anniversary show is going to be broadcasted live on the internet on the 29th. Here’s an invite and the link to see the broadcast.
I probably won’t watch the show myself but to salute Domenico and Stefano for their contribution to every young gay man’s (from New York to Miami, London to Sydney, Milan and Singapore) wardrobe, I bought a pair of green suede and leather sneakers at Harvey Nichols over the weekend.
More updates (and photos) later. I’ll get to camwhore this time cause me and my sis are going to the MALL, the doctors, the salon and aestheticians!
You know where to contact me. firstname.lastname@example.org or +63-915-7851492.
P.S. Does anyone have a copy of the September 27th Philippine Star Newspaper? I’ve been told that my photo was there, on the lifestyle section. My oh my. If you have a copy and don’t mind scanning it, please email me with a photo so I can put it on my online library.
P.P.S.S. Bryanboy loves Cosmo Magazine Philippines. Be sure to buy a copy of the October Issue, out on the newstands now, cause I’m there!
Hannah Matronic Needs Help
I know it’s 7:00AM and yes, my body is nagging at me that I should go to bed.
Before I do so, I thought I’d call in all my beautiful and young (yes, I repeat, young… well, old is ok as long as you have a vagina) readers who live in the city that never sleeps, New York City.
You see, one of my gal pals, Hannah Matronic, recently moved to Bronxville (I know what you’re thinking), to go to Sarah Lawrence College. Here’s a picture in her doghouse dorm box.
She’s been there for like 3 weeks or so and the only stories that we’ve been hearing from her are awful.
I don’t blame her though cause she spent half of her cash allowance (till December – don’t ask, her parents are trying to teach her the value of money) on things like pedicures, manicures, bras, cab fares, trains, one of her faggot "friends" who had the nerve to call her cheap when she’s the one spending money on him not the other way around, let alone someone who wears Abercrombie Clearance… ON SALE.
To cut the story short, Hannah is used to the glitz and glamour of it all. In Manila, she’s a modelizing, short-skirt-and-pumps-wearing, Balenciaga-bag-carrying budding social mountaineer. She went to an international school, had her own driver, an abundance of clothes and a ton of fantastic accessories.
And now she ended up in a god damn college dormitory with no one to socialize with other than rich American kids slash social rejects… pretentious pseudo-intellectuals who would rather talk about mortality while drinking beer off kegs.
I mean come on, can it be any more boring than that?
And her parents are trying to teach her the value of money… which pretty much means living less than minimum wage as your allowance.
It’s either a Marc Jacobs coat or a one-way ticket to anorexia for a month.
I think it’s time for intervention from me. It’s time to resurrect the REAL "Don’t you know who I am? I’m Hannah Matronic!" Hannah that she left back in Manila.
Wanna know how sad it is up there? Nobody in her school wears heels! And now she had to do the same too just for her to ‘fit in’.
How bad is that?
Nevertheless, I need your help.
If you’re someone from NYC, send me an email (email@example.com) with your photo, your name, your age and how you would like to help my buddy Hannah.
You see, help comes in the form of companionship… and free drinks at fancy places.
Or heck, you can also buy her a pair of that Jimmy Choo boots that she’s been lusting for.
What you have to realize tho is the fact that she has nothing to offer you other than incessant whine on how her life sucks in Bronxville,
Zimbabwe Timbuktu Sahara Dessert NY state.
I hope I’ll get a ton of responses since most of my readers are female of the generous kind.
Generous meaning you won’t mind if you tag along Hannah and show her a good time around NYC, like introduce her to young people, bring her to cool parties where nobody drinks fuckin beer, my god, I can’t believe people drink such vile.
Gay males are ok too. She’s a great fag hag.
Definitely NO straight males. Unless you belong to the Forbes 500 list.
At which point I have to charge you a service fee in the 8-9 figures.
If you live in NYC, email me, firstname.lastname@example.org.
P.S. If you’re in Manila and you know Hannah Matronic, keep in mind that I am planning to send her a "care bear" (i.e. Marc by Marc Jacobs goodies) 25-kilo box via FedEx sometime soon. If there’s something you want me to include on that box, email or SMS me at +63-915-785-1492.
Well hello there.
First things first, I have to make an exception and start my post with unconditional love and thanks to this man who temporarily etched his undying love for me on his face.
From the cocaine-covered walls of my aorta, muchos muchos love to you, too, even though "BRYANBOY" looks like BEIJINGBOY or BIJANBOY.
I’ll be honest. I did something I don’t normally do after a Saturday night out. Today was one of those extremely rare days: I got home no later than 7AM. In fact, I arrived at 6:41AM to be exact. And it doesn’t help getting up at 1 in the afternoon with one of my worst hangovers ever. Blurry vision, chalk-y tongue, headache and stiff neck galore.
My usual weekend haunt, La Embajada was jampacked last night. It was so crowded that you literally need to use your levitation skills in order to get from one place to another.
Even the VIP area was soo crowded. I usually have a place ‘semi-reserved’ for me (in other words, the waiters/bouncers tell people, unless their powers are more superior than mine, to get their lazy asses up because the queen bee is coming) and anyone related to me up to the 2nd degree but all it takes is one trip to the toilets and ya gotta wave buh bye to your spot. When you come back, you’ll just find yourself standing up, staring at your drinks behind the army of the unknowns who shamelessly took your seat.
Some skinny, short-haired vagina accidentally spilled wine on my Gucci jeans and Gucci belt. May god bless her soul and may she rest in peace wherever she is now.
"It’s only white wine, it won’t stain" my fucking asshole.
To add to the insult, little miss chinky slit vagina told me to go to the toilets to stuff tissue up my jeans so they dry up faster.
Hell, it’s just like telling me to wear a spacesuit and go to the Saharan dessert by myself.
Thank god Hannah Matronic was there. She kept my sanity intact.
Is it your first time at Embajada? Don’t you know that it takes 10 long years to go inside the toilets?
Sorry bitch, I just had to vent it out. I won’t hold it against you. Case dismissed. Peace and Merry Christmas. :)
I’m about to say something I’ll never, ever, ever, ever, ever say to anyone, whether in public or private because there’s still that "if you think local celebs are cute, you’re ghetto" factor. But fuck it though, this is my blog and I can say anything I want.
Raymond Fucking Guitterez, You’re hot!.
OK, maybe I shouldn’t say that. The thought of dealing with your mom is probably enough to turn anyone off. Since most of my readers are people of the non-Filipino kind, his mom is the female, highly-opinionated version of Jessica and Ashlee Simpson’s dad.
(oh btw – if this woman doesn’t like you, she can effortlessly throw hardcore verbal diarrhea to your face jerry springer style, on national television)
It’s interesting how much stuff I know about showbiz these days eh? Hah!
God I hate showbiz.
Ugly People of the World… Speak Up NOW!
Or forever hold your
Most fugly people, like me (see – I do normal things normal people do, too), read something while taking a poo in the toilet. Whether it’s your daily newspaper, your favourite fashion magazine or the book that you bought 6 months ago but you only read about 2-3 pages a day, it’s always nice to have your mind wandering somewhere while you drop the kids into the swimming pool.
I thought I’d share in yet another piece from my favourite "only read it while you’re taking a poo" book, The Hookup Handbook: A Single Girl’s Guide to Living It Up by Andrea Lavinthal and Jessica Rozler.
One thing that brightened up my day is how they have this piece about "himbos" – that’s right bitches – the male version of a bimbo. It made me think – after a rather accurate description of "himbos", gawd I must have been so stupid in the past because I’ve been with one of those abominable creatures.
Read this piece and tell me, would you want to hook up with a himbo?
I say pass the pepper and salt bitch cause there’s no way I’m eating my steak bland.
When you look at it at a different perspective, the best material things in life always come from someone who isn’t blessed in the looks department.
Passionate sex (here’s a doggie bag bitch, go vomit whatever you last ate), lots of gifts (a girl like me can never have too much of Chanel), free drugs (bring in the snow cause you’re my litte snowman), free booze (cry me a cristal baby, cristahhhhhhhhl), nice cars (there must be something nice about you to compensate for your errrm..) and the million-dollar mansions (daddy, can i visit your zoo?).
Is there a gold digger hidden inside you? To compensate the lack of personal pictures lately, let’s play a little pictionary game shall we…
Take a look at these random faces for instance and tell me whether or not you recognize these people:
Seriously – would you do the despicable deed if they offered you a couple of million, cold, hard, and bundled inside a Goyard trunk?
With the help of MSN Messenger and a couple of American gay friends online, I asked them to give me links to pictures of "who they think what a himbo is". Now take a look at these people.
Quite interesting eh?
Now who would you choose – the former or the latter? Weigh the advantages and disadvantages between the two.
My verdict: you can’t expect and you won’t receive much from a himbo. A himbo is no different than a hoover vacuum in the middle of a hoot-hoot-hooter’s bar.
In the spirit of golddiggerdom and despite my applied rule of ageistics and physics (older than 20, younger than 35), if you were to ask me, I’d take the IKEA Founder anytime. It doesn’t take a consultation with my astrologist or a knock on cheap Swedish wood babe to know that man will probably die of cardiac arrest if i told him in person "daddy i wanna i kee ya".
Good luck if you chose Aaron Spelling bitches cause that man will never, ever, ever die. That man will live on and on and on and on and survive all sorts of world war 1, 2, 3, even star wars. For all we know, we can be on our deathbeds wearing Oscar de la Renta and Aaron will still be alive and well.
Bryanboy Loves… and Random Cheesemax
People from Akron, OH, Montpellier, France, Hembrug, Netherlands and people with white collar 9-5 jobs in Austin, Texas. Bryanboy loves you all!
It’s never too late to send your undying love to me. Send photos of yourself holding an "I Love/<3 Bryanboy" sign to email@example.com. Remember – NO photoshopped pictures please.
#1 – Yes, you’re fucking hot, too. It’s nice to rub up against you last night, even if it was only for a few seconds.
#2 – Yes, I am a masochist. Thanks for asking. I let people use me all the time. It’s like being inside a gas chamber with mirrored walls. All you can do is lie down, have convulsions and slowly stare at yourself dying.
#3 – Has anyone noticed that Eluxury/Louis Vuitton is trying their best to drain my bank account? The mother fuckers at LVMH are coming up with more and more gorgeous stuff.
#4 – Chanel recently held a show in Shanghai. Public transportation has never been this chic.
#5 – Victor Basa, is this the bracelet you talked about last night?
#6 – Last, but not the least, thank you so much to 2 individuals who recently gave me some of the best and genuine advice I have ever heard (and have not even heard from the people I expect to hear it from) in ages.
I love you all!
And yes, I will definitely play it up!