A Day of Nothingness
I don’t know what it is but I’m utterly homesick.
I was so homesick that I decided to go to the fuckin Philippine Embassy in Moscow just to see some of my fellow compatriots.
It seems as if I’m the only BROWN, EXOTIC and NATIVE person in the capital of the world’s largest country.
I haven’t met anyone whose ancestors belong to tribes with flat noses.
Anyway, I asked my driver to bring me to the Embassy.
I rang the bell and this wonderful and nice Filipino gentleman opened the door. I asked whether I can see the ambassador or not (THAT’S HOW THICK-FACED I AM – SAVE THE SLAP ON MY WRIST. I HAVE ABSOLUTELY NO DIPLOMATIC SKILLS).
He asked whether or not I have an appointment and I said no I don’t but it’s ok if I don’t see him/her because all I want to see are fellow Filipinos… something that will remind me of home.
He toured me around the consular section and there were 3 Russians on the queue waiting for their visas. I hope I made a good impression. I wore my Yves Saint Laurent Shirt, Hermes Belt, Hermes Down Parka, Gucci Jeans and my Birkin Bag.
When I went to the consular section, bam wham bam!
I FELT AT HOME!!!!
There like 4 Filipinos there – the gentleman (probably attache of some sort) who greeted me, another man, a woman (presumably his wife) and their daughter who is about 6 years old and crying ON TOP OF THE TABLE, throwing a bitch fit.
Yes, it’s home alright!
I mean, it’s not uncommon for Filipino workers to bring their noisy evil spawn to their workplace.
Heck, my dad used to bring me to his office back when I was a child and played PACMAN on his computer.
This was back in the dark ages.
I lingered around for about 5 minutes then *snap* *snap* *reality check* and told myself, alright, I didn’t pay good money to see some third world child crying on top of a table.
The gentleman was very, very nice.
What’s funny though is I asked whether or not the President is still at the APEC summit.
One of the guys ad his wife had NO CLUE where the president is… in fact, I had the impression they didn’t even know the President went to summit!
There you go… pure Filipino incompetence.
How very very very Filipino. I LOVE IT!!!!!!! It’s just like in Manila!!!!!
Yves Saint Laurent
After the Embassy, I went to a Russian bank to exchange traveller’s checks, followed by a quick trip to one of the shopping places. I settled for Yves Saint Laurent and bought a gorgeous cashmere turtleneck and some random knick-knacks.
More updates later! I love you all…
Rollin’ With Mah Homies
It’s official. Moscow is indeed my second home. I love, love MOCKBA.
It’s soo full of the nouveaux riche it’s like finding long lost brothers and sisters, wearing their in-your-face-wealth-is-stealth clothes in an enormous lost and found area.
In fact, I feel very old money already.
If you think I’m bad, you have to see some of the Russians I’ve seen – they’re all fabulously dressed – everything has a fucking label on it. I, on the other hand, mix up "designer" with non-designer pieces; for instance, I wore my Missoni oversized cardigan + belt, Fendi sweater, Hermes belt, ZARA corduroy pants and Frye boots.
I went to Stoleshnikov Pereulok yesterday, a little brick road, home of Dior, Hermes, Vuitton et al and a ton of women (and some men, their husbands/sugar daddy) gave me the smile, the approving nod and the hi/hellos/where are you froms.
I think it’s because of my Birkin bag and my oh so fabulous chinchilla.
Courtesy of Reality_Chic, who said my Chinchilla picture reminds me of her.
When I went to the Hermes shop to take a look at their stock, this Russian woman had a Fendi bag filled with CRISP, cold, hard cash, complete with rubber bands. It was around 900,000 rubbles, which is roughly around US$31,000. You should’ve seen the look on my face when I saw that – it was the same face I had when Jane brought me shopping last year.
I met up with my Russian gal pal Jane again (I’ve known her for like a year yet it was only a few months back that I found out her Russian name is Evgenia/Eugenia). We went to her dad’s favourite Italian restaurant in Moscow, the Palazzo Ducale. It is one of Moscow’s poshest restaurants.
The food was scrumptious. I had a shrimp cocktail (generous, generous servings) and some fillet. Even the bellini was divine. Jane had a salad and risotto.
Jane’s been a complete gentlewoman to bring me there. We had a great table… in fact, it was so great that my brown Fendi logo-a-gogo v-neck matches the decor. Hah!
Apres-dinner, we had a little kiddie fun with her leftovers because her food was soooo black.
Err.. SHE had kiddie food fun.
After all, I’m the epitome of class, high-low-hi-whore society and glamour (as in G-L-A-M-O-U-R MAGAZINE).
Jane, you bitch, you looked really, really, really scary on these 2 pictures.
It’s official. I now have emotional scars. I’m scarred for life!
After Palazzo Ducale, we had coffee at some coffee shop that’s quite trendy with the 20 and 30-something Moscow crowd. I forgot the name.
Jane had to go home after coffee and I met up with another old friend, Kate.
The Red Cap
I joined Kate, Nastya (who I called Nasty Nastya), another Kate (who left for St. Petersburg today) on a little "hen night" at Red Cap.
This is what I love about Moscow – it’s a city full of the unpredictable.
Who would have thought there’s actually a STRIP CLUB just for women?
Kate knows the manager there so I was able to get in for free, otherwise I would have paid US$100 for the entrance.
IT WAS QUITE OVERWHELMING TO BE HONEST! IT WAS SOOO SURREAL!!
IT’S LIKE, OH MY GOD, IT’S THE FIRST TIME TO BE IN A STRIP CLUB!
IT’S NOT EVEN LIKE A STRIP STRIP STRIP CLUB FILLED WITH DIRTY OLD PENSIONERS LOOKING FOR A SHAG… IT’S A STRIP CLUB FILLED WITH NEW-MONEYED RUSSIAN GIRLS, 18 – 30 YEARS OLD.
All these young girls actually pay a shitload of money only to be surrounded by a ton of STEROID-ANDROIDS (oh yes, the muscle mary to girl ratio was like 3 muscle marys for every girl/patroness).
I was laughing so hard inside when you hear things like "ooo you choose a guy for me", "who do you like best on the stage?", "she went to the bar to order a guy for her".
These girls pay like US$50 for 30 minutes of TALK time – yes – just talk… and hugs… and whatever.
God… these "hen" nights…
When those 3 girls ordered their guys and I told them it’s best for me to go home.
How old were the girls? 22, 18 and 20.
I on the other hand, the oldest of the bunch, chickened out and went home at 3:30AM.
THANK GOD THOSE STRIPPERS DON’T SPEAK ENGLISH.
AND SINCE MY FAMILY MEMBERS (ESPECIALLY MY PARENTS) ARE READING MY BLOG
NO, I DIDN’T TOUCH ANY OF THE STRIPPERS.
NO, I DIDN’T HAVE SEX WITH ANY OF THEM. GOD KNOWS WHERE THEY STICK THEIR POLES.
ALL I DID WAS SIT ON ONE CORNER OF A TABLE LOOKING AT THE ENTIRE PLACE BECAUSE IT WAS SOOO SURREAL.
Best of all I didn’t spend anything, not even a single cent, penny or rubble – Kate took care of EVERYTHING, including my 4 gin tonics and 2 red bulls.
The only thing I paid for is my cab fare back to the hotel.
Overall I had a jolly good time.
HANNAH MATRONIC, you should’ve come to Moscow. I know you like your muscle mary Filipino male models/C-list celebs without any money!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Wake up and smell the fresh air babe. You have to come here. THIS IS THE OFFICIAL HEADQUARTERS OF THE INTERNATIONAL ASSOCIATION OF YOUNG, UNDER-25, SUGAR MOMMYS/MATRONS-IN-TRAINING! I feel sorry for your brown Filipino ass celebrating thanksgiving in Middleofnowhere, NY state.
Don’t be depressed bitch. We’ll see each other in December.
(yes, there’s this nagging voice deep down inside that I DOOOOO miss home)
As always, you know where to contact me. Email email@example.com or SMS me at my new Russian mobile number, +7-926-437-6332.
Cruel, Cruel, Cruella
12:25AM and I just got back from the hotel. As soon as I’ve checked in at the hotel, I called my adorable friend Jane and we had dinner at NOA restaurant. She had to be somewhere by 9 so after dinner, I called another friend for couple of drinks and say my HIs and HELLOs.
It’s surprisingly warm for Moscow at this time of the year. I remember leaving Moscow exactly on this day last year and it was snowing; they sort of had a blizzard at that time.
Today however has been warm.
You know what they say – when it rains, it pours. When it pours, it’s too warm.
I shouldn’t have worn William (that’s HIS name) out – he sorta got wet. The powers of the Vuitton umbrella wasn’t enough to protect him from the wind/water. Oh well.
I don’t care what y’all think. When in Rome, do what the Romans do.
Before you forgot, this is MOCKBA we’re talking about, not Paris.
MOSCOW IS THE MOTHERLAND OF THE NOUVEAUX RICHE. NOBODY IN THIS WORLD CAN PERFECT THE ART OF BEING A NOUVEAUX THAN A RUSSIAN CAN!
Aeroflot completely revamped its business class; while they may not have the flat beds yet, their seats are quite comfortable and can fully tilt diagonally. Honestly, it’s the first time I’ve slept on a plane (usually those flat beds are a pest). It’s not even proper sleep – it’s one of those highly efficient DEEP though SHORT naps that make you feel well-rested.
The service is not bad – nobody helped me storing up my luggage on the overhead cabin, but when the food arrived, I’m telling you, the stewardess simply WON’T STOP FEEDING ME. Also, everyone is smiling one way or another. The cabin staff is polite. If you say “thank you”, they’ll say “welcome” or smile. They even won’t stop offering me drinks… and the other stewardess gave me my own bottle of mineral water – without me asking. I thought THAT was sweet.
Courses upon courses of food arrived – the enormous salmon appetizer, the salad with various green and cherry tomatoes (personally, I’m not a big fan of thousand island dressing), followed by soup (it wasn’t too bad; I was disappointed that it tasted as if it DID NOT come from a can), followed by main course – I had cod fish with vegetables.
There were 2 or 3 more courses left and I told the lady I’ll skip them because I’m full. It was some sort of dessert, followed by ice cream… and then your usual chocolates, cheese and whatsit. And if you’re still hungry, there’s a selection of sandwiches available.
I paid US$380 in excess luggage – a far cry from the US$800 or so I paid before. I should’ve fedexed some of the stuff I used in Beijing. Oh well, I should’ve known better. I’ll fedex some of my used and i-don’t-think-i-can-use-it-here clothes back to Manila when I have the time.
Being on the flight was terrible. It cemented the fact that I DO miss home. Those teeny pangs of loneliness are fucking killing me. More than half of the people probably wouldn’t understand a word of English other than “HELLO”.
If you think I’m a fashion victim, you should have seen the lady in front of me earlier on the Aeroflot Check-in Counter at the airport. That woman wore embroidered Maharishi-look alike pants, paired off with some huge brown and green fur jacket (she’s fat BTW) and her extra huge handbag looks like one of those Luella Bags, multiple by the size of ten and the colours scream 70s ACID PARTY – it was psychedelic galore – in FOX!!!!!!!!
There’s even a battalion of hideously-dressed people, I presume they’re atheletes cause they all wore this dirty white nylon jacket with the word “BULGARIA” on the back, the same tracksuit bottoms, etc. My god, some of them were sooo good looking. Fuck them though, I should practice what I preach to my friend Hannah Matronic: Good-looking guys are usually dirt poor. HAHAHAHAHAHAH! I’m so evil.
Anyway, the only thing I wore (or more less carried) with a logo is my Goyard traveling bag. Other than that, I wore a stripey lurex Marc by Marc Jacobs top, my Marc by Marc Jacobs jeans, my Frye boots, my Dior East/West Flight Bag, my Hermes down parka and my Goyard traveling bag.
BTW, My skin is sooo dry from the weather. My elbows and knees are turning white from the dry skin despite of lathering up Kiehls Crème de Corps thrice a day. I even wrapped my feet in petroleum jelly and some plastic bag + socks last night with hopes of them turning baby soft but bah…
Anyway, enough beauty dilemmas.
It better fucking snow this week in MOCKBA or else I’m taking the nonexistent Concorde back to the heartlands of the third world – the land of the brown, l’exotiqe and the natives. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. *kiddin*
I miss you all. I really do.
I’m going to a museum tomorrow morning. Promise. Funny how I haven’t been to a museum in Moscow ever when I spent over 2 weeks here last year!
As always, you know where to contact me. Email firstname.lastname@example.org or SMS +63-915-785-1492.
Bryanboy LOVES Beijing
The Bryanboy HAS LANDED.
After 4 agonizing (and boring) hours on the plane, this sleepless bitch from hell finally arrived in Mr. Mao’s homeland.
(I know – don’t laugh. One of my sisters told me my hair looks like a fucking christmas tree because of the highlights – copper and light brown)
And because I’m sooo fucking beautiful, the folks at the St. Regis upgraded me to a fucking suite, complete with my own sitting area, a room for my excess baggash (all 84.7 kilos of it).
I even wrote something on the plane, a couple of hours ago because I was DEAD bored.
I have never been so bored in my entire life.
It’s no fun channeling Hans Solo; this is exactly the thing I hate about traveling alone – you and nothing but you, on business class, surrounded by empty seats on the plane cabin.
The only time I opened my mouth for the past few hours was a) when breakfast was served and b) when one of the cabin crew sat down beside me and did a little, warm (and sweet) chit chat.
Other than that, man, I’m telling you, not even my ipod, books and magazines can keep me entertained.
Fine – I browsed a copy of the November issue of American GQ and yes, I got some nanoseconds’ worth of titillating visual fun thanks to some of the pictures of half-naked men with stubble.
What keeps my sanity intact though is the little screen with the map that shows where exactly you are in the world. I LOVE that screen, especially on long haul flights. Apparently we’re flying at 37,500 feet at 861 km/h with an outside temperature of -51 degrees centigrade.
Anyway, fuck you all.
Now that I’m here in Beijing, I’m off to see TIANAMEN SQUARE.
More updates later.
Grande Puta Maricona Putain de Salope
3:41PM and I just got back home from the big bad city.
My gal pal Tina D. hanged out with me at one of the embassies earlier (I’m surprised she managed to read a book whilst waiting for me… I mean, god… for her to read a book….shit man, I’m impressed!)
I got up at fucking 5AM earlier (only had 2 hours of sleep) to go to one of the embassies to pick up my visa.
I got there at around 7:30 and queued for about 2 hours. Ugh. The hassle and distress eh?
There’s this family of three – husband, wife and a 4 or 5-year old rodent, evil bitch troll son who welcomed me as soon as I entered the embassy lobby.
Guess what satan’s spawn aka rodent said?
"Oh mommy look at that fag! fag fag fag!"
How can someone so young be sooo fuckin homophobic! I swear to god, I wanted to stuff the kid inside my Balenciaga bag and throw the rodent out of the double-digit-floored window.
I don’t blame the kid though. Look at me – no decent and respectable human male would wear my little ensemble.
The parents apologised profusely but the kid was a pest.
Not contented with his verbal abuse, the little bitch lied down on the floor and used his body as if he’s a mop… he did one of those "snow angels" thing right then and there.
If only I brought my bottle of sedatives with me that 5-year old rodent would be dead by now – good ol drug overdose.
Let’s see what he’d end up in about 15 or so years.
I hope he turns out to be a faggot.
The family’s probably applying for residency at the country where I’m going so I’m 100% sure that little piece of shit will take it up the arse with white cocks before he even hits puberty.
I hope that happens.
See – I don’t look like I’m an illegal immigrant afterall. I got all the visas I wanted. Apparently it pays to be fucking beautiful, even if I look like a bloody 12 year old on that photo.
As if I’d be an illegal immigrant anyway. I live like a princess in the land of the brown, l’exotique and the natives.
NOBODY WILL DO A GOOD JOB PROMOTING THE HIGHLY FABULOUS CESSPIT/ARMPIT OF THE THIRD WORLD CALLED ‘LAS ISLAS FILIPINIANAS’.
One day… oh yes one day… set it in stone bitches… I’ll become an AMBASSADOR OF GOODWILL!
Anyway, Tina D nailed it right there when we had this conversation:
Tina D: My god, I’m so glad we were born pretty.
Me: That’s true. Beautiful people get everything in this life. Fame. Fortune. Sex.
Tina D: I can’t even imagine what it’s like to be not-pretty.
Me: You’re the only one who’s pretty, not me bitch.
Tina D: You’re pretty too… compared to them (points at random strangers)
Me: But they’re not faggoty and camp as a row of pink tents like I am. Try being a flamer for a day.
Tina D: That’s true.
We had lunch at our favourite haunt, the M Cafe, had our usual oysters, lemongrass prawns + mango salad, guava + tamarind + scallops soup and some gindara fish. Loves it!
Oh I’m the happiest heshehoochimammipapimale today!
More updates later you fucking whores.
I throwing a little dinner party tonight with some of the people who appreciate me for being me, with no judgment whatsoever – the ones whom I don’t need to explain anything cause they understand me, me and me!
I need to sleep… and I have 4 hours to do so.
I love you all.
You know where to contact me – Email email@example.com or SMS +63-915-785-1492.
P is for Productivity
Hola chica amigas, long time no talk!
I know I was supposed to do a sex issue a few days ago but I’m currently in a bind. I’ve been ultra busy… and sick (well, not really. I just had some slight fever from those damn vaccinations that I recently had – flu, pneumonia, hepa, etc) the past few days.
I don’t even know where to begin.
I had some awful chest pains not too long ago after eating fatty foods.
YES – FATTY FOODS YOU HEARD THAT RIGHT.
My doctor recently told me to get a blood test done (cholesterol and lipid profile) and it looks like I’m still (thank god) a healthy baby boy.
I know what you’re thinking – a cholesterol test?
Like how old am I? 12?
While my cholesterol levels are normal, I need to cut back on my meat consumption.
I’ve been doing this no-carbs thing for the past few days (with hopes of me losing the last… it’s always the last… 20 pounds).
BTW, Big apologies to TRLCRL. I was looking forward last Saturday to see you again but the damn fever kept me bed-ridden!
I HOPE TO SEE YOU MONDAY NIGHT… EVEN FOR A FEW SECONDS.
I THOUGHT WE’RE MARY KATE AND ASHLEY? BRYANGIRL, I MISS YOUR HUGS!!!!
Anyway, my Sunday’s been good.
Managed to get one last facial before I leave. Please pray to the good lord almighty that I won’t get a zit. I know my zits – they’re volcanus eruptus the size of Mount Vesuvius if I don’t get a facial every 2 weeks.
I also have a new haircut… and colour.
I think I’ve gone overboard with the highlights. Dennis at Provost told me I have to do copper (hello ginger minger) and light brown (like before). I was so stressed earlier I had no choice but to nod and say yes.
My sister told me my hair looks like a christmas tree. I’ll take pictures of it tomorrow. Promise.
I don’t think it’s that bad. Seriously.
You know how I am though — Mr. Exaggeration G. Alore.
I started to pack my shit seriously this time around. Can’t trust the household help to do it cause they’re hopeless.
God I’m soo bad.
Oi vey! At least my household help knows
her my fashion ABCs.
Even if she ruined one of my L P-F cashmere sweaters.
McQueen Black Scarf, Zara Chocolate Scarf, Missoni Striped Cashmere Belt, Missoni Mohair Scarf, Hermes Bandana, Hermes Scarf, Louis Vuitton Denim-Print Silk Scarf, Louis Vuitton Rabbit Fur Scarf, Marc by Marc Jacobs Diagonal Stripes Long-Sleeve Top, Gucci Purple Sheer Cotton Long Sleeve Top, Marc by Marc Jacobs Blue and Red Stripe with Dog Long-Sleeve Top, Dior Homme T-Shirt, Beige Zara Cotton V-neck Cardigan, 2 bangles from Urban Outfitters (black and purple), Mango crystal brooch (green) and Linda Farrow Gallery Sunglasses
Logo-a-gogo v-neck sweaters from Fendi, Marc by Marc Jacobs wool top, Missoni oversized cardigan, Cullen cashmere crewneck, Balenciaga assymetrical batwing top, Marc by Marc Jacobs cardigan, Yves Saint Laurent, Fendi and Chanel sunglasses.
Vintage fox fur gilet, Mango purple turkey feathers bolero, vintage Prada fur collar, Fendi rabbit gilet, Elie Tahari rabbit vest.
Louis Vuitton umbrella, Louis Vuitton oversized scarf, Louis Vuitton fur gloves, vintage leather gloves, 2 furry ivy caps by Mango, black Chinese Mao-like hat (unknown), Chanel No5 belt, Valentino belt with tassles, Hermes red belt, Gucci belt, Topshop metal belt, Mango belt, Zara beaded belt, Valentino swarovski belt, Chanel fish belt.
Goyard bag, Marc by Marc Jacobs striped top, Marc by Marc Jacobs fleece top (can you tell I LOVE Marc by Marc Jacobs already?), Zara faux fur gilet, Zara faux shearling jacket.
Vivienne Westhood hat, Chanel bag, Gucci bag, Dior East/West bag, Zara hat, Vuitton bag with Hermes scarf, Dior saddle bag.
Frye boots, Zara boots, Yves Saint Laurent boots, Dolce & Gabbana suede trainers, Pucci boots, Gucci trainers, Louis Vuitton low-cut boots.
More to follow later. I gotta sleep and get up in 3 hours!!!!
You know where to contact me. Email firstname.lastname@example.org or SMS +63-915-785-1492.
Shu by Ai & Motorola Pebl
THANK GOD I DECIDED TO GO OUT LAST NIGHT, IN SPITE OF FEELING FEVERISH.
I finally got my influenza and pneumonia vaccinations done yesterday afternoon. Perhaps I developed some sort of tolerance… with needles… in the past year? The shots didn't hurt at all.
I mean, for god's sake, I had 20 shots done on each of my arm, not once, not twice, not thrice… but 4 or 5 times (that's cause I had lipodissolve twice)
I wouldn't be surprised if I conduct self-acupuncture soon.
What's crap though is the bulky feeling on my arm – they're BOTH sore.
These vaccines better work.
Anyway, armed with a slight fever and my Louis Vuitton Rabbit Scarf, I went to The Loft in Rockwell yesterday for the Shu Uemura, Motorola and Smart Infinity event.
UGH. I really think I should learn a new pose and a new facial expression. I don't want to be known as the boy with the same facial expression all the time.
Let's play pictionary then, shall we?
Good afternoon minions. Damn pre-holiday
I’m not feeling well.
I got up this morning with a slight fever and cold – I shouldn’t have gone out on Saturday night.
I’m supposed to go to the hospital today to get my flu and pneumonia vaccinations done so I won’t be sick when I leave but the powers may be gave me a damn cold.
Syringes aside, I accomplished a lot today.
I started to pack my bags cause I’m leaving in a week’s time (TIME IS SOOO FUCKIN FAST!!!).
I won’t be back till around Christmas – celebrate Christmas at home, with the family, then New Year’s Eve with friends in Boracay (HANNAH I can’t WAIT TO SEE YOU BITCH).
When I went to Bangkok, Moscow and St. Petersburg, Russia last year, I brought 5 bags, appox. 95 kilos or over 146.3 pounds of luggage.
This year I want to keep my luggage at a bare minimum cause I don’t want to spend thousands of dollars on excess baggash.
FYI to luggage nazis: I’m not one of those people who make sure their luggages match. I ensure I use a good ‘mix’ of luggage because of the fact that these things can be lost/stolen/damaged.
Each suitcase contains a different set of outfits and accessories, this way if one gets lost, I still have some sort of a head-to-toe ensemble on another case.
The only thing I’ll make an exception is my shoe/accessories bag – I usually allocate one more bag strictly for shoes and accessories – it’s the little square nylon Prada.
I packed half a case so far today… my Vuitton Damier Alzer.
What’s inside it?
McQueen Black Scarf, Zara Chocolate Scarf, Missoni Striped Cashmere Belt, Missoni Mohair Scarf, Hermes Bandana, Hermes Scarf, Louis Vuitton Denim-Print Silk Scard, Louis Vuitton Rabbit Fur Scarf, Marc by Marc Jacobs Diagonal Stripes Long-Sleeve Top, Gucci Purple Sheer Cotton Long Sleeve Top, Marc by Marc Jacobs Blue and Red Stripe with Dog Long-Sleeve Top, Dior Homme T-Shirt, Beige Zara Cotton V-neck Cardigan, 2 bangles from Urban Outfitters (black and purple), Mango crystal brooch (green) and Linda Farrow Gallery Sunglasses
Quite an accomplishment eh?
More updates to follow.
I need a shower; I smell like a goat.
Total Icon, Period.
I got this email yesterday and boy I was touched. Honestly, I don’t know how to feel…
Fuck, I really should learn how to receive compliments by now.
I know I’m flattered.
But in all seriousness, I think your days are numbered when someone starts calling you an icon.
It’s like receiving a lifetime achievement award when your career as an actress is over… thing is, I don’t even have a career… yet!
Screw acting though – I love my brown skin and my flat nose.
Thank you. Thank you very much.
Spread the love and be fabulous… each and every one of you. Don’t be afraid to parade yourself to ridiculous extents because the only thing that matters at the end of the day is whether or not you had fun.
Even if you have to do this:
(It’s not yet too late to buy a copy of today’s Philipine Daily Inquirer. Great article by Tim Yap. Check out Super! Saturdays…)
Stay at Home Housewife
I was supposed to go out in the big, bad city yesterday night but I decided to catch up with my healthcare obligations.
I went to my aesthetician’s office yesterday evening and got the usual glycopeel cleaning/extraction facial and power peel sessions – I tortured my face over the past week and a half with everything under the sun.
Don’t I look
raw and vulnerable crap? No amount of concealer can hide those bags under my eyes.
Here’s another fugly picture of me.
BTW, both pics were taken AFTER my treatments, that’s why my face is all red and sore. Ugh!
I know what you’re thinking.
If I think I’m really fugly, then why do I bother posting my fugly pictures online.
Well, I think you’re right.
I’m fishing for compliments because I look like a fisherman’s friend.
I like to expose my flaws and insecurities so people will feel sorry and compliment me instead.
If they don’t compliment me and said bad stuff, I still have the upper hand cause I said it first and wallowed in self-pity.
Either way it’s a WIN-WIN.
Try it yourself.
Tell people you’re fugly, show them you’re insecure, show them your flaws.
If they say "No you’re not" then tell them "Thanks darling. You’re pretty too."
If people say you’re REALLY fugly then tell them "Oh I know, it’s nothing new."
That would shut them up for a while.
After my little trip to the aesthetician, my dad, mum and my sis had dinner at our local Korean.
I gave birth first thing in the morning to a 2-pound turd named "Monty the Python".
Bryanboy Loves… and Random Cheesemax
#1 – Bryanboy loves people from Fayetteville, Arkansas, Jurong Town, Singapore, Kangkar, SIngapore, Stamford, CT, Plymouth, Michigan, Weston, ONT, Canada, Alpharetta, GA, Gainesville, FL, Melbourne, Australia, Rochester, NY, Hubbard, OR, East Greenbush, NY, Altoona, PA, Sheffield, UK, Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada, and of course, people from Helsinki, Finland.
#2 – Remember ladies, December 1st is the First Annual International Armpit Hair Shaving Day. Remind all the men in your life to shave their armpits because armpit hair is the root of all things evil.
#3 – I’m going to update my baby, InsideMyBag.com later today. Keep an eye out for fabulous bags.
#4 – Designer purses sale gets out of hand. "The sale was halted and the doors locked for hours after the crowd exploded in anger over the store’s attempt to manage the flow of nearly 1,000 customers who were hoping to get a deal on purses from designers such as Prada, Chanel and Gucci. The deputy on the scene said it was very unusual to see women fighting over purses."
All this drama at a place called "C-Mart" in Joppatown, Maryland, USA.
Thank god I buy my purses straight from the boutiques.
Imagine buying a Chanel at an outlet.
What would people say?
Third-party: "Nice Chanel darling"
Your response: "Thanks doll, it came from an outlet."
Third-party: "Eeew, Outlet Chanel."
Your response: "Cut me some slack bitch I won the war over 1,000 other women."
#5 – WHEN THE HELL ARE WE GOING TO HAVE DIOR IN THE PHILIPPINES????? Calling the attention of Store Specialists, Inc. Just bring Dior and make me bankrupt already.
#6 – I recently came across some cute old man online. I forgot his name, Robert something. I dunno, I suddenly shifted my taste from that of a twink to that one of an oldie. Seriously, I wouldn’t be caught dead with a dirty old prick but this guy is sort of a looker.
#7 – JANTHINA FONG et al, owner of half of Hong Kong, is this the guy you’ve been lusting about???
Sniff sniff, December 1st.
#8 – Manila’s premier, by appointment only, designer bag consignment resource has a blog. Check out http://tresormakati.blogspot.com.
As always, you know how to get hold of me. Bombard me with messages you fucking fools. Email email@example.com or SMS +63-915-7851492.