My, My, My Manila
The third world sweaty armpit of a metropolis that I call home is featured on next month’s Wallpaper* magazine. Click here to read the Wallpaper* guide to the national capital of the land of the brown, the l’exotique and the natives!
Thanks to Carlos C. who brought this wonderful news (via his blog) to my attention. My favourite haunts, M Cafe, Embassy, Firma (and more) are all there. And yes, Carlos is mentioned there, too!
Get your credit cards ready bitches and buy a one-way ticket to the city I love.
I’ll give free blowjobs to the boys and free handbags (and cheap lipstick) to the girls who rescue me from my boredom.
Plane fares are cheap, hotels are affordable, the food, the shopping and everything, including my fucking asshole that spit ping pong balls, won’t put you to debt or drain your trust fund.
Sucky sucky 5 dolla anyone? I’m your man. Me love you 10 dolla? You pay 20 dolla I give you free balut?
Visit Manila today. It’s not as bad as you think.
Toni & Guy Shampoo
For quite a while now (more or less 4-5 years) I’ve been ordering shampoo and conditioner from the Agua Spa of Morgans Hotel Group, formerly known as Ian Schrager Hotels. They have the best smelling shampoo ever (ok… they’re next to Frederic Fekkai’s Technician range) and I love how it gives my hair that "squeaky" clean feeling. In my opinion, it’s the Dior Homme of shampoos – simple, not too bubbly, clear, transparent, best of all, luxurious.
I didn’t like the shampoo at the Sheraton HK so I went to Watson’s and bought this little gem for my
kinky blonde pubic-hair-like afro curly locks mane:
What’s funny though is the fact that it’s only until yesterday that I realized that the damn thing is just like the shampoo from the Agua Spa.
I guess the million-dollar question is, does our local Toni & Guy carry the above-pictured shampoo?
I doubt it. I think I’ll check with Nelson first thing tomorrow morning.
After 3 long months of xanax drought, my dad’s driver finally found a pharmacy that carries Xanax (locally known as Xanor). My dad gave me this present earlier this morning before he went to the gym.
I know they look white on the screen, but yes, each of these pale, periwinkle-colored pills is a lifesaver.
I finally don’t have to go the shrink to ask for a new prescription for clonazepam.
My shrink’s schedule is a royal pain to my rectum.
How can that white-coated man possibly save the minds of the attention deficit disorder sufferers such as myself when all he does is spend 2 friggin hours (each day) at my local hospital before going to another one?
My advice: don’t overanalyze everything like I do. Anxiety attacks are the worst thing in the world next to disasters at the dry cleaners.
Bryanboy Loves… and Random Cheesemax
#1- Bryanboy loves people from Etobicoke, Ontario (Canada), Brooklyn, NY, Crown Point, Indiana, Bobcaygeon, Ontario (Canada), Merchantville, NJ, Kill of the Grange, Dublin, (Ireland), Broomall, PA and of course, Somers, NY. Bryanboy loves y’all. Identify yourselves, you menstruating wet vaginas, by posting a comment on my blog.
#2 – I received my Saks Fifth Avenue and Neiman Marcus books today on my weekly FedEx from my office and boy I’m in for a treat. Have you guys seen the Zac Posen for 7 For All Mankind jeans? I thought they reeked.
There’s one piece (yes, just one piece) that’s nice, the embroidered one with the detachable charm made of semi-precious stones and beads. But the jeans with studs… ugh. It screams prostitute darlin, prostitute. Gimme that pair and I’d be the best-dressed bitch on your local red light district.
#3 – Lastly, here’s yet another photo from my dirty, working-class past. It’s amazing what my maid finds out whenever she cleans my room. My god, I fucking look like an underaged prostitute that would sell his ass in exchange for a drink in a bar. I think I was 15 or 16 when this photo was taken. Gag me please, gag me!
Don’t ask me who that girl was. The only thing that I can remember was the fact that I was dragged into that dirty bar/club/whatever (I think it’s called the Two Brewers) by some random young faggots in London whom, at that time, I didn’t know.
The only thing that makes me sleep at night these days is the fact that I think I’m much, much, much more prettier now than, say, a decade ago.
Ugly duckling evolved into an ugly but hot and horny flamingo indeed.
I don’t know. I really don’t know what to think anymore.
Did you know that I had an anxiety attack about 3 hours ago?
I had some chest and left shoulder blade pain plus a feeling of "stuffiness" in my throat and my nose. I felt like I was being choked slowly. It went on and off for like an hour.
BTW, I stopped taking Seroxat cold turkey about three weeks ago because I simply can’t be bothered. It’s hard enough to remember that you gotta take one pill a day. I’ve also ran out of Rivotril… and Xanax, as always.
I’ve got no meds left because I haven’t gone to the shrink in AGES!!!!! Gotta ask for another prescription.
Fuck, I even haven’t had a facial in the longest time.
What the fuck is wrong with me these days?
Anyway, I thought I was gonna die earlier. I went to my mom’s room telling her I’m not feeling well and she shrugged me off, instructing me to lie down and relax. She also told me that it’s my fault anyway because I’ve been smoking far too many cigarettes.
The only thing that is comforting me now is the idea of going to either Paris or Russia this winter and then spend New Year’s Eve in Boracay.
I’m the biggest procrastinator ever. If ever I’m going to Paris, I’ll leave earlier than October 10th, probably like October 5… and then stay for a week.
And it’s already September 13.
If I’m not mistaken, the French Embassy needs at least 3 weeks to process a visa.
I don’t think I’m gonna make it by then.
But I do want to go to the friggin LV Store Opening thing!
20 21 22 23 years old and I can’t go to the mall."
Sounds familiar? My BFFsaid that whilst washing the dishes at The Simpe Life 1.
In the event that I don’t make it to Paris, feel free to keep these pictures as souvenirs.
It’s the thought that counts.
After much contemplation, I’ve decided I’m not gonna be able to fulfill my promise to my Russian friends that I’ll come back to Moscow/SPB sometime on February.
Let’s face it, I’m no Hilton grandchild with a 9-digit trust fund. If I were to go to Russia next month, I’ll only have a couple of weeks to save $$$ — and I haven’t even received the credit card bills for all the Christmas shopping I did.
Earlier this morning, I was exploring my options. One of my new year’s resolutions is to visit at least 2 countries I’ve never been to before. Last year it was Russia… and boy a lot of my friends suffered from months of constant whingeing on how I want to go there badly etc… and then come October, bam, I was there.
This year, well, I want to go (again) somewhere "not normal".
For quite some time, I toyed around going to Ecuador, where New York Circuit Boy Fabian Basabe is from. If Ecuador made cute guys like him, then there’s probably an abundance of similar-looking guys where he came from. And yes, even if he does look like a retard sometimes, I think he’s hot… hot, hot, hot, hot, HOT!.
Can you seriously imagine me going to Ecuador?
Heck, I don’t even know where it is on the map. South America, definitely. But who cares.
2 other countries sprang to mind.
Turkey and New Zealand.
I’m no longer keeping it a secret that I kinda find
"Arabicishbutnotfullblownmosquegoingarabic" looking guys cute.
Yes, yes, I know, I know. When I was in London, I just mince and walk past their quaint kebab shops all over Edgeware Road. Some of them are hot looking, some are not — you know, the gorillabackhair types. I like the young, under-25 ones. They are really cute… and hot. Especially if they don’t have fullblown facial hair… just light stubble and the likes.
I’ve only been with 1 Turkish guy in my entire life and he was gifted… extremely gifted "down there". He wasn’t that bad looking either.
Plus, I saw this program on CNN ages ago and Turkey seems to be a safe place now that they’re "Europe". I give them A+ for Effort.
And why New Zealand? I really don’t know.
WHO THE HELL GOES TO NEW ZEALAND?
It’s far. It’s something "new" and god knows whether it’s civilized (i.e. cute boys, loads of good shopping, nice hotels, nice clubs, etc) down there or not.
I’ve never met a New Zealand person in my entire life and I know some beef and milk came from New Zealand. The Asia-Pacific version of the classic Wales sheep shaggers, perhaps? Who knows.
So if you were me, where would you go?
Turkey… or New Zealand?
Istanbul or Queenstown?
Ankara or Wellington?