I found this little flyer on my seat when I woke up mid-flight. Yes, I spent the entire time sleeping in the plane.
PS. And please, for the life of god, no, it's not Paris. Unless any one of you will buy me business class tickets (oh what the hell, FIRST CLASS by EMIRATES) to Paris, I suggest that YOU hold that thought for now.
What’s a trip overseas without making new gay friends? I love them gays! I really do. Most of my real-life friends (HUWATTT FRIENDS ?!?!?!) are often married geriatrics, and worse, married geriatrics WITH KIDS. Because of this, I sometimes forget that I’m a young gay person. HUWATTTT YOUNG GAY PERSON? Haha. JK.
ANYHOO. Johannes and Kenneth invited me for lunch at Yung Kee restaurant, famous (apparently) for its roasted goose. No we didn’t eat dog or baby pigeons, don’t be silly. Click click click!
The best thing about traveling on business is that it’s always, ALWAYS guaranteed I’m the youngest person in the lounge or at the cabin. All the oldies are in their little duty free Burberry (NOT Prorsum!!!) windbreaker cotton jackets etc. LOL.
I’m listening/watching the Elie Saab Fall 2008 Ready to Wear show in my iPod. I love the soundtrack… and I love Kylie!
PS. I think I saw that Miriam Quiambao person. SINO SHAAAAAA? Just kidding.
Some of you might remember my little trip to Philippine Airlines last month. Well, I went to the ticket office yesterday afternoon. In the essence of saving time (which is probably unheard of by PAL), I’ll post photos and I’ll let you connect the dots to guess what exactly happened.
Last month I was #748… yesterday I was #718.
What do you think? Sounds good? Now go. Click click click click!
It pains me whenever I publicly air my frustrations with huge corporations online (there goes the dream of free air travel haha) but after everything that has happened this year, last night was the final straw. If you know someone very important who works for Philippine Airlines, please be sure to forward this blog entry. I’m calling upon the powers of the Tsinoy (Filipino-Chinese) bajillionaire boys club mafia in the Philippines (trust me when I say they own EVERYTHING… these people are richer than air!!!) to get in contact with their hombre Lucio Tan. I know for a fact there’s a few of you ladies out there reading my humble blog.
Now. I went to the ticket office at the international airport yesterday because John Galliano sent a private jet to pick me up and visit him in Paris to redeem my Philippine Airlines frequent flyer miles. Click click click!
Bryanboy’s "A-HA" Moment #16,310: Corelli’s Cafe, Newtown
The ever so helpful Patty offered my third world ass a ride to Sydney domestic airport earlier this week. We stopped by Corelli’s Cafe in Newtown for a quick brunch. Y’all know me. In spite of my obsession with all things thinspiration, I’m a very voracious eater, I’m not picky and I’m willing to eat anything and everything edible. I love food! I really do.
On the last leg of my OZ trip, I went a little further up north of Sydney to visit a friend overnight. I wasn’t able to shop AT ALL in Sydney because a lot of the stores were closed on Sunday and I really didn’t have the time. I did visit the Chanel store for a few minutes… boy oh boy oh boy, that Americana collection is fantastic. But $6,000 (was it 6 or was it 8? I’m not sure) for a jacket? Rupert Murdoch lend me your mastercard please.
Bryanboy in trainers? SHOCK HORROR!
One of the shops I thoroughly enjoyed, believe it or not, was Woolworths… the Australian version of Walmart. It was a grocery store alright, smacked in the middle of nowhere New South Wales, and going there was soo surreal! If you have seen The Simple Life, think of me as Paris Hilton and Nicole Richie going to Walmart in bumfuck America. It was a visual feast seeing normal, non-fashiony, non-Margiela wearing Australians.