I went to the mall yesterday afternoon to pick up a few things and this woman (with her boyfriend/husband/whatever) was right in front of me. She wore this thong with "invisible" (but no so invisible) straps made out of something. You know those "invisible" plastic/rubber bra straps? They’re kinda like that.
I don’t think you can see it on the picture but god damn, it annoyed the HELL out of me. While some girls — women — do everything they can to prevent other people see their unmentionables, some folk of the vajayjay kind, like this one, would go to great lengths to show off her thong. What for? She’s already got a man (they’re holding hands) so I don’t get it. Who is she slutting it up for? I know most women these days dress up for other women — everyone wants the latest designer something something to be the envy of other women so it made me think, is that woman slutting it up for other women? You decide. Answers on a postcard.
We all know I have a sick and twisted (more like, delusional) point of view so when I saw myself wear that silver piece of shit on my latest video, I thought, "oh man, I’m fucking hot". Except my wig ate my neck. Hahaha. Anyway, it’s natural that I ask some of my straight male buddies whether or not we share the same sentiment.
I’m pissed. It has come to my attention that one of the ad networks I belong to serve adult ads on my site WITHOUT my knowledge and approval. I thought it was just a fluke on some of my readers’ computers but I got a few complaints already. I emailed Adbrite like five or six times in the past 2 weeks, telling them I have young people (and office workers) reading my blog and I am NOT pleased at all with whatever it is they are doing. Getting a reply from them is like trying to make orange juice out of apples. Heck, I don’t even post naked pictures and if I do, it’s either life or death (like Michael Biserta’s video… and it’s not hosted on my server) or I cover people’s bits up.
If you continue to receive interstitial ads (or a page redirect) to an adult site please let me know and I won’t stop forwarding them the complaints I’m getting. I’m not too happy about this either. I apologize for emotionally-scarring you and I promise I’ll get to the bottom of this. Trust me. Do you really think I want to see dick, nuts and vajayjay on my homepage? Do you really think I want *YOU* to see dick, nuts and vajayjay on my homepage? Thanks but no thanks. We’re all soFEESticated laydees here. Give me a new featherette Lanvin dress over some American jock’s scrotum any day.
Jared is currently filming his next movie, Mr. Nobody, in Montreal and I promised myself that I’d get a picture of him for ONTD. After going on the movie set 3 times, I finally got him to hold the sign today!
I want I want I want I want I want I want I want I want I want I want one but not from Jared Leto. I want one from a fashion person. LIFE IS SOO UNFAIR!!! =( =( =(
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it once again: no photo chopped "I LOVE BRYANBOY" sign pictures please. Am I *NOT* worth 30 seconds of your time? How hard is it to scribble you love me on a sheet of paper? Even my dog can do it faster than the speed of light. Anyway, I’ll make an exception today because I love logomaniacs and logo-a-gogo whores. They’re like my long-lost, birds of a feather, family members. David from Portugal took the time to email me and flaunt his wealth. HOTNESS! I want a sugar daddy and I want him NOW!
Look at all that MONEY! Money, money, money, money, money, money come to meeeeeeeeee!!!! I love it!
I finally agreed to go on a fucking lunch date (yes, date as in a real date date date) with someone who’s been pestering me for the past few days. I think it’s about time for me to go to one of those cheesy tacky dates where two people sit on the opposite sides of the table and concoct stories about themselves, polyester tie optional. Hello… I’m not getting any younger and my biological clock is ticking. If I don’t go on a date now, I’m gonna end up like Leona Helmsley with no one beside her deathbed other than her dog.
Sometimes I wonder how extremely lucky I am that I live in a place where I’m totally free to be myself (ok fine, I know I want to wear an Oscar de la Renta shift dress when I walk down the street but I don’t think my mother would approve) with no fear of being persecuted for wearing last season’s lip gloss. The Philippines has got a long way to go when it comes to gay rights but trust me, I think the gays here have it good… wayy too good compared to, say, bumfuck America where 13 year old kids have riffles and go on a shooting spree or worse, Iran, where queers are kidnapped, raped, tortured and
sometimes, executed. Can you imagine me pulling all that attention-whoring tranny ass gay shit I pull day in/day out for website hits over the years in Iran? I’d literally get stoned to death! Ok, erase that. I’d get raped shitless because I’m fucking pretty. And then I’ll get stoned to death. It’s sickening, I know.
Click click click for the rest of the documentary and MY motivational poster that y’all should print and pass around. My favourite quote? "My father tells me to sit in my room until the end of my life and bear my problem. They tell me to cure myself and I keep telling them it is not in my hands." Ouch! I almost cried towards the end of the video like I do after watching Galliano’s cho cho san couture show for Dior!!!