Who would have thought I’d spent my Saturday night completely WASTED?
(God my arms look fat on this photo)
Wasted in the sense where:
1) I didn’t have a strain of alcohol or illegal substances on my system
2) I didn’t go to a bar, night club or any public place where procreation is inevitable
3) I didn’t preen, pose, mince, dance or did any activity that results in weight loss
I had a nice little dinner by myself at my favourite MOCKBA haunt, the Vogue Cafe. The service is REALLY good. The coat check man still remembered me from last year. The pastries woman said hi. My waitress took really good care of me from start to finish. When she saw me hang my Dior East/West Flight bag on my chair, she gave me a mini-chair for my handbag. When she saw me whip out my Marlboro Ultra Lights cigarette, she quickly rushed to me with a lighter. It was comfort and service at its finest.
Anyway, I had a crab salad, veal tenderloin, some orange juice and 2 xanax pills.
All of my Russian friends were busy last night, i.e. some were still at work, some had prior engagements etc. In other words, yes, I was alone yesterday night.
I don’t mind it though; I’m sure they all have their lives and it would be rude of me to demand that I see them every single day when I’m gonna be here for the next 12 days.
I got back to the hotel by 7PM, slept at around 9PM and got up at 6AM.
I am sooo homesick. I have no idea why.
Travelling solo flight is definitely a mind-blowing experience. It makes you realize how alone you are in the world and how you miss things back home.
I have all the time in the world at the moment and I hate it.
At least my Russian sable fur hat is gorgeous.
Ignore my thunder thighs. I swear I’m not gonna eat carbs from now on.
I haven’t had a single grain of rice since I got here.
I miss my family, my home, my room (that feels like a fucking sauna, even with the airconditioning on).
I miss Filipino food.
I miss my maid, Eunice.
I miss my domestic, short-haired, breedless, cat, Pinkie.
I miss my dauchshund, Bruno.
I miss my crappy car and calling poor people to pay them US$10 to drive me around for an entire day because our family driver is soo unreliable.
I miss going out at night only to go home at around 9 in the morning, no questions asked from my familia de horreur.
I miss sashaying down the third world malls in my first world outfits with typical Filipino people thinking my Birkin bag is a working woman’s bag (i.e. bank tellers etc).
All I can say is, when the going gets tough, the tough gets Dee-yor.
That’s exactly what I said back in July 14,2005.
I’m currently staying for free at my hotel in Moscow. I redeemed some of my Starwood Preferred Guest points. I know it’s not a suite but hey, I’ll take it if it’s for free. I’m transferring though to another hotel in a few days.
My room is soo messy and it’s my fault. I’ve got all my shit scattered all over the place.
It’s times like this that I realize, shit, I’m so lucky to have my own maid in the land of the brown, l’exotique and the natives.
NEVER underestimate a household help’s magic. Even if they have ruined a Lucien Pellat-Finet sweater in the past by getting in laundried instead of dry-cleaned.
I’ve been in Moscow now for 3 days and today is the first day I saw slush since I got here. I hope it’s a sign that it’s gonna snow soon, this way I’ll get to wear my Dior snowboots.
Bring on the fucking blizzard you mother nature you.
Time Magazine will probably name you as "Person of the Year" when it could have been ME you fucking bitch.
I paid VERY good money just to experience a fuckin blizzard.
If all you’re giving me is fuckin slush (i.e. green mango/white grape shake) that I could’ve bought at a restaurant in the Philippines, I should’ve just stayed at home, throw ice cubes in my blender and throw it in the air like glitter at a Studio 54 party.
Bryanboy Loves… and Random Cheesemax
#1 – Bryanboy loves people from Pittem, Belgium, Kingsthorpe, Queensland, Hartsdale, NY, Mobile, AL, Littleton, CO, Davis, CA, Lemon Grove, CA, Maryknoll, NY, Sunnyvale,CA, Austin, TX, Evanston, IL and of course, people from my home town, the national capital of the land of the brown, l’exotique and the natives, MANILA, PHILIPPINES!
#2 – Notable Mentions. I appeared at VH1′s Best Week Ever’s website again…. and at MetaFilter.com.
#3 – Chloe Paddington bags are available at the Chloe Boutique in Beijing. Oh yes, there’s a couple in black, olive green and a maroon-like color.
#4- Louis Vuitton in Moscow is the place where you can get all your Limited Edition pieces. Boy, they have a shitload of limited editions over there and it’s not as expensive as what you think. In fact, most of the pieces there are the same price in Manila. I think it’s Louis Vuitton’s policy to have the same price everywhere else (except in local currency conversions).
#5 – Lots of love from all over the world. I know I said NO PHOTOSHOP but I guess I’ll make exceptions because I’m FUCKING homesick. Miami, Copenhagen and Paris.
(Sebastian darling, I know Copenhagen loves me but will YOU fuck me?)
(Say hello to Pablo Chester, Paris’ Black Diva. Loves it baby, loves it!)
#6 – If you’re in Manila, will you PLEASE, pretty PLEASE, buy a copy of this month’s Fudge Magazine with Harry Potter on the cover? I think I’m there and I need you to scan the pages where I’m on it. I’ll forever be indebted – I’ll give you sexual favours when I get back. I promise. Email me the scans.
I think that’s it. I’m meeting a few friends today, it’s Sunday and I hope to get decent pictures done later.
As always, you know where to contact me.
I’m homesick you fucking bitches!!!!
Email email@example.com or SMS my Moscow number, +7-926-437-6332.
I love you all.
It’s 10:44PM here in Beijing and I’m packing my luggage to my next destination.
I bought 2 huge fur stoles, both foxes, one from Lagerfeld Gallery and one from a Chinese (unless I’m wrong) store called "White Collar".
Isn’t my new baby cute? It’s sooo huge it’s fucking gorgeous!
I strategically placed my RAZR phone there so you’ll have an idea of how big it is.
I don’t think I’ve got space on my luggage!!!!! FUCK!
What PETA doesn’t understand is the fact that if gorgeous creatures such as the one I bought aren’t turned into outfits (which, by the way, with proper care, will last for life – I’m doing them a favour), they will simply rot and turned into plant fertilizer after they die.
Look at those eyes!!! Shame they’re fuck. Sooo adorable though.
Here’s my money shot.
No more shots of similar nature. I’ll leave them to Helmut Newton, thank you very much. May his soul rest in peace.
Wanna know what I had for dinner?
Something that costs around US$1.80 from 7-11.
I know it looks awful but I was starving! It was delicious though.
Time-wise, room service is just as bad as going to a restaurant… I didn’t want to wait!!!
More updates later. Or tomorrow.
I love you all!
SEND ME TEXT MESSAGES YOU FOOLS! I AM SO FUCKING LONELY IT’S NOT EVEN FUNNY!
P.S. THIS MESSAGE GOES OUT TO ALL ANTI-FUR PEOPLE OUT THERE.
I WOULD RATHER BE CREMATED ALIVE WITH MY ASHES THROWN OUT ON THE SLOPES OF GSTAAD THAN WEAR SOMETHING LIKE
Don’t worry though – it’s just a personal opinion. you could wear North Face for all I care and I’ll still love you.
I’m THAT nice.
The Great Fall of China
I finally found the cure to depression.
2 xanax pills, Badger Sleep Balm, a night’s worth of sleep, a 40+ year old man/driver (who I think should be a photographer instead because he took good pictures) and a car.
Let me tell you this: BEIJING IS FUCKING BREATHTAKING.
And I mean BREATHTAKING.
The traffic jams and the travel time to go from one place to another is WORTH IT.
I slept at around 10PM last night, got up at fuckin 4AM (then again at 7AM) and I was out of the hotel by 9.
Went straight to the Great Wall of China (Badaling) and boy oh boy, I was the most gorgeous and best-dressed person on the wall.
(Yep, that’s a Starbucks Americano right there)
As any tourist spot in the world, there were HORDES and HORDES of tourists and I know this goes without saying, they all look fucking hideous. H-I-D-E-O-U-S. Hahahahahahahaha!
(Hey, don’t get me wrong. I LOVE tourists. A TON of them (particularly the Japanese, the Americans and the Spanish… who arrived via tour bus) took pictures of me. Man, if I got a dollar every time someone asked a photograph of me on the wall I’d be FUCKING rich (and on the top 10 of the Forbes’ list) by now.
I know any sane person will walk that gigantic brick architectural wonder with a pair of sneakers but come fucking on, it’s always nice to glam it up for all those photo ops.
I want my grandchildren (my adopted spawns’ offspring) to see pictures of me up the wall and say "my fabulous grandfather looked so American Vogue".
God I love the ego boost from all the stares I got earlier. Even those white tourists (a ton of Spaniards and Americans) took pictures of me because I’m SOOOO fucking beautiful.
I even rode this cute huge animal. It’s kinda like a horse but like it has these 2 weird mounds on its back. I forgot what they’re called. I see these whenever I watch the Discovery Channel and these are like all over the place in exotic places like Egypt or like Mongolia or whatever.
Apres Great Wall, I asked my driver to bring me to the Forbidden City.
It’s ABSOLUTELY BEAUTIFUL.
I sashayed and powerminced its massive brick roads as if I’m a coked-up supermodel on the runway during New York Fashion Week whilst listening to my Hotel Costes 8 album on my ipod.
I’m ON A FUCKING ROLL!
I’m definitely coming back to Beijing… 36 hours is simply NOT enough. I’ll create a photo album (for more pictures) on this blog when I have the spare time.
I love you all! You know where to contact me. Email firstname.lastname@example.org or SMS +63-915-785-1492.
P.S. I know I owe you a big random cheesemax. I’ll do one as soon as I get to Moscow. Love ya all!
World’s Worst Traveller
I’ve been looking for a travel buddy for the past few months to no avail so I guess I’m destined to be travelling alone forever.
I am the epitome of the phrase "LONELY PLANET".
I think it has to do with the fact that I’m probably the world’s worst traveller.
- I never fly economy (unless it’s a 1-class flight i.e. those 45 minute domestic flights within the Philippines).
- I carry so much stuff with me (that I eventually don’t use) I just use it as an excuse to get my clothes dry cleaned and laundried by the maid.
- I carry so much stuff with me I usually end up shipping boxes upon boxes via Federal Express at the end of each journey.
- I spend far too much on excess luggage… enough to pay for a roundtrip, business class seat for all my suitcases.
- I almost never go to museums. Why go to huge halls filles with relics of the past when you can go to a well-lit shopping mall, be the emperor, and BUY new clothes (and shoes… and bags… and accessories…)?
- Soaking up local culture to me means getting drunk at the nearest nightclub and flirting with fellow tourists
- Mornings are for sleeping, Afternoons are for shopping, Evenings are for drink and dance.
- I don’t do public transport. Don’t expect me to take the subway.
- The longest distance that I’ll walk is 100 meters or 109 yards or 328 feet. Anything else beyond that figure requires me hailing a cab or hiring a driver via the hotel concierge. Where’s the glamour when I’ve got sweat beads on my forehead?
- Trying local cuisine means going to the nearest Japanese restaurant to order miso soup and mixed sushi.
- Sightseeing to me means going to the nearest Dior or Chanel boutique.
- I always lose maps, hotel keys and hotel address cards. In a span of 24 hours, I usually ask the hotel receptionist 5 copies of those credit-card sized plastic hotel keys.
- Wherever it is in the world, any hotel room (or suite) that I’ve stayed at should be declared as a UNESCO World Heritage Site. Cleaning up the mess I leave requires miracles… it’s a test of human strength.
- My toiletries alone weigh more than 10 kilos. And no, I don’t use them all.
- Unlike my contemporaries who steal bath robes, towels and slippers, I never steal anything from hotels except those little tiny pads of stationery that they leave on your desk/bedside table – proof that I’m still a stationery kleptomaniac after all these years; I used to be the #1 thief of Sanrio stationeries and Lisa Frank stickers amongst my friends back when I was a infant.
- Not even a fire drill/fire alarm test can wake me up when I’m sleeping.
- I have this weird habit of bringing out everything inside my suitcases just to have an outfit for any particular day.
- Yes oh yes, even if that means unpacking everything on the floor only to spend more than 6 hours the following day to repack it all over again…
Now, now, all flaws aside… here are the reasons why I also qualify for the
World’s Best Travel Buddy
That’s not too bad isn’t it?
Bing Bing Beijing
I’ll be on top of this wall SOONER than you think. All I need is a damn driver (and a guide) to bring me from my hotel to the Great Wall.
I was supposed to go to Beijing a couple of months ago but I was sidetracked by all the shopping opportunities in Hong Kong.
This time however I’m on a mission.
I’m going straight to the heart of the Chinese capital… the heartland of 1 billion people… wonderful people with names and surnames that rhyme with all the sounds that emanate from a Szechuan frying pan: Tang, Ting, Tong, Tung. Mao, Ming, Mong, Mung.
I’ll only stay for 2 days so here’s what I planned on doing:
1. Visit Tian An Men Square
2. Visit Forbidden City
3. Visit Silk Alley and the Friendship Store
4. Visit Wangfuijing Street
5. Go shopping (fabrics, gems, presents and random knick-knacks, FUR and EXOTIC SKINS)
1. Visit Great Wall of China
2. Visit Summer Palace
I’ve spent far too many hours researching but I think the above should do it.
If you know any good-hearted people who live in Beijing who can show me around, please tell them to email me, email@example.com.
I’ll be on my own, all sad and alone.
Bryanboy Loves… and Random Cheesemax
#1 – Bryanboy loves people from Hong Kong, Santa Cruz, CA, Goleta, CA, Morristown, NJ, Austin, TX, Gilles Plains, South Australia, Pyrmont, NSW, Australia, Diamon Bar, California, McMahon Park, Singapore, Brimley, ONT, Canada, Melville, Saskatchewan, Canada, Copenhagen, Denmark, Malmo, Sweden, Neubiberg, Germany, students of Parsons School of Design, employees of Neiman Marcus in Post Oak Blvd, Houston, TX and of course, people from Yio Chu Kang, Singapore. Bryanboy loves you all you fuckin bitches!
#2 – The only thing that’s stopping me from buying this bag at eLuxury.com is the lack of time before it gets forwarded to me by my US office. I probably have left the country before it gets delivered to me. God knows whether LV Manila has this bag… The price ain’t that bad either… US$1,140!!! Oi vey!!!!
#3 – NOW THESE TWO GIRLS CAN GIVE ME A RUN FOR MY MONEY. Thanks girls for doin the infamous Bryanboy pose. I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE it!
That’s the way to do it bitches! Put one hand on your waist/hip and the other one upwards.
Gorgeous. Fucking gorgeous.
#4 – Love is all around me!
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.
Vroom Vroom Vuitton
(image courtesy of Vuitton.com)
Yes bitches, I totally missed the Vuitton event of the year. I know, I know, if only I could kick my fuckin ass, I would.
Consider it as a blessing in disguise though.
I’d be bankrupt by now with all the shopping I could have done that night had I gone to that event.
Seriously, I’d be found at the nearest street corner selling my soul (and sperm cells) just to pay for my credit card bills.
But yeah, the store is gorgeous.
Get ready to salivate my dear minions.
Click any of the images below for the larger version.
(image courtesy of Vuitton.com)
Whether you like it or not, when you say Paris, I say Louis. When you say France, I say Vuitton.
When you say Louis Vuitton, I say HAIL MARC JACOBS.
Wanna know the other thing that made me palpitate?
Trish Goff is alive and well!
I was researching my accommodation options for my upcoming fall/winter escapade next month and one thing that caught my eye is the new (and Moscow’s first) boutique hotel that opened earlier this year.
I know, I know, I’m getting 14 nights FOR FREE at a different hotel because of my frequent hotel points. Gotta love American Express!
According to my Russian sources, the hotel is quite stylish. The rates aren’t that bad, too. They range anywhere between US$180 – US$300 per night. Whereas the cheapest room at the Hyatt hotel runs at US$600 PER night!!!!
That’s the thing about hotels in Moscow – they charge extortionate rates so this Golden Apple Hotel is truly a gem, budget-wise.
Moscow is not THE place to be if you don’t have dough… unless of course you want to stay in a soviet-era type hotel room with hookers on the street and cockroaches that crawl the walls.
Check their website out: www.goldenapple.ru.
|You Are 70% Boyish and 30% Girlish
|You are pretty evenly split down the middle – a total eunuch. Okay, kidding about the eunuch part. But you do get along with both sexes.You reject traditional gender roles. However, you don’t actively fight them. You’re just you. You don’t try to be what people expect you to be.
70%! That’s fuckin bollocks!
Maybe there’s a real man hidden underneath the handbags, the lip gloss, the in-your-face camping tents?
I mean, we all know that I don’t have a single ounce of masculinity in my body. I simply cannot act straight even if it were the last thing to save my life.
Like what I said before, I am so fucking gay that even gay guys are scared of me… and I’m NOT even gay!
It really is THAT bad.
What’s worse though is the fact that the only boys who probably like me are fuckin guys who think I’m a woman at first glance.
I’m not EVEN a TRANNIE for god’s sake. I don’t think of myself as a trannie or a ladyboy.
I’m just a fat boy who likes handbags, lip gloss, campy things, fur, jewelry, diamonds, accessories and other colourful stuff.
That doesn’t mean I think of myself as a girl though. I’m sure of one thing – you’ll never see me wear a dress, a bra, a wig, some panties and stillettos anytime soon. Ick, ick, ick.
I’ll never forget the time when I went to Bali when I was like 17 or something. I was dancing on some ledge in a club and then some white trash 20-something lifted the trousers I was wearing to see whether or not I’ve got hair on my leg because he couldn’t believe I’m a boy.
It really was a miracle, IN SPITE of sweat, makeup and all, for me to achieve a straight face err straightish self at that mini-photo shoot yesterday.
I’m telling you, this picture is probably the CLOSEST thing I’ll get to straight acting.
Go on. Feel free to have a laugh at MY expense.
I think I know what it was – the shoot was held in one of the most hardcore Catholic, all-male schools in the
third world country, Don Bosco school. One of my mum’s cousins went to the same school although a different branch. Yep, Uncle Charlie… that’s his name.
It was fascinating indeed! Giles (who is oh-so-adorable) and I even chuckled when we saw a group of really camp (and young) boys having lunch.
(god my face is HUGE!!!)
Keep an eye out for the Philippine Daily Inquirer in the next few weeks for the entire set of photos – if they publish it, of course.I’ll scan the pictures when they get published. I think there were 6 outfits; I won’t publish any other photos because I don’t want to preempt the article. Hello confidentiality!
Clothes were made by Vurve Clothing Co. Eyewear by Yves Saint Laurent.
Twinkle Twinkle Travel
I’ve been awfully busy this week planning and preparing my Fall/Winter ’05 escapade. I’ve decided to go to China (Beijing) and Russia (Moscow) next month. I already bought my plane tickets and booked my accommodations. My travel agent has my passport because they’re processing my Chinese Visa application. Hopefully I’ll get it back soon so I can start working on the Russian side.
By the meantime, I’m still thinking whether or not to go to Estonia AND/OR Latvia. The Latvian Embassies that I called said that they’ll only accept visa appliations in-person and not via courier. I called the Latvian Embassy in Moscow and they said that they can process my visa over there.
Oh I don’t know. I know myself though – remember how I’m supposed to go to Beijing/Shanghai back in August but me and my gal pal Tina only ended up splurging our hearts out in Hong Kong? Once I’m in a certain city, all I’m gonna end up doing is procrastinate/party/shop/party/shop.
We’ll see how it goes in the next few weeks. I think I’ve got a little over a month before I’ll leave anyway.
Bryanboy Loves… and Random Cheesemax
#1 – Bryanboy loves people from Leaside, Ontario, Canada, Raleigh, NC, Tavares, FL, De Banken, Holland, Santiago, Chile (that’s a new one – I love you all over there!), Jamaica, NY, Houston, TX, East Lansing, MI, East Elmhurst, NY and of course, Merredin, Western Australia. Everyone get down to your knees, worship the ground I’m standing on. Identify yourselves bitches and say hi to me – I don’t bite!
#2 – So many events, so little time. I’ve decided to stay home this week.
#3 – I have a couple new crushes and I’m not telling you who they are. My sewage-worthy potty mouth have sent me far too many roundtrip tickets to HELL in the past.
The best thing about all my previous crushes is the fact that they’re ALWAYS unattainable
(in other words, the chances of them going for me is pretty much NONEXISTENT), which makes it even more exciting because they remain what they are – crushes.
#4 – Bryanboy loves Susan.. and her lips. No, erase that. I like the cash. I like them all!
#5 – Oh fuck it. Fuck being straight-acting. I’m telling y’all, my Birkin bag will definitely go with me to my grave… unless of course I hoard MORE Birkin bags before I die. Yes, I know I’m pathetic for bragging just one Birkin bag when there are probably a ton other botoxed matrons who have them in all sorts of colours, leathers etc.
Nevertheless, a trophy is still a trophy. And for a lower middle-class pretentious parrot like myself, a trophy doesn’t come often.
As always, you know where to contact me – firstname.lastname@example.org or SMS +63-915-7851492.