Today’s a good day. The sun is up, the sky is blue and I’m wearing some jeans, a Dior Homme t-shirt and an Hermes scarf as a belt.
It’s so good that it only took me 18 minutes to travel from my house to a place where it usually takes 45 minutes to go to.
(god I look like a cadaver on this photo. my skin is awful!!!)
And then you’ve got all these public rallies and politics-related protesters going on around the nation’s capital.
Thank god they’re far from where I’m at.
Thinking about politics gives me a headache.
I don’t even want to talk about it.
I won’t deny the fact that I’m a horrible citizen.
I really could care less about politicians.
In fact, I haven’t even voted. I’m 23 years old and I’ve never voted.
The only time I’ll vote is when I’m running for a position – I’ll vote for myself.
I’ll leave that ‘vote’ job to 80 million other Filipinos.
I already have my own personal drama to deal with let alone deal with others.
YES, I LOVE BEING SELFISH SO SCREW YOU.
Rally or not, I have a lot of things on my plate that I gotta finish.
I’ve decided to rent, for an entire year, some mini office space at one of the prime buildings in Makati, the Enterprise Tower. For those of you out there living outside the land of the brown, the l’exotique and the natives, Makati is Manila’s premier financial and shopping district.
I’m meeting a gal there in a bit so I can sign the contracts and pay for the entire term. It’s a really small office; in fact, it’s one of those "serviced" office things – I get like a teeny, tiny room where I get my own desk, workstation, chairs, etc. I have to start somewhere.
This is quite momentous for me because I’ve been working out of my home for the past god knows how many years.
Who knows, perhaps one day I’ll have an ENORMOUS office with tons of beautiful people as my worker bees and then I’ll have an office fling etc. that sort of thing. Hahahahaha!
I have always wanted to know what it feels like to be sued for sexual harassment.
What I meant was
I have always wanted to know what it feels like to be sexually harassed.
(I know it’s not a laughing matter because some of you have experienced such thing but really, a pervert like me would be more than happy to pay someone just to rape moi. Sadly, a rapist won’t even rape me even if it was for a million dollars.)
I’ll update you guys later. I’ll take some photos, go shopping and see what happens.
I love you all.
As always, you know where to contact me. Email email@example.com or SMS +63-91-7851492.
Out with the Old, In with the New
Before I continue with my usual inane ramblings, I thought I’d say bye bye Miss American Pie to my crusty 2-year old desktop computer. The thing gathered dust a couple of days ago but it was only until today that I got found out that the thing can no longer be resurrected. All my files, all 100+ gigabytes of it, my precious and priceless Outlook emails, several thousand songs, my collection of imagery (no, there’s nothing incriminating there) and my life are inside the 2 hard drives. Both drives didn’t have backup so I’m permanently screwed.
I thought I was protected because I’ve set my Norton anti-virus to autoupdate but for some strange reason, both hard drives fucked up on me.
Even my 17-inch Sony Vaio (the one I got back in March or April for like US$3-4,000) can’t be fixed. I spilled a drink on the keyboard and the damn motherboard (or whatever term a techie calls a laptop’s guts) corroded.
I went to the mall today and bought a new laptop. It’s an HP Pavilion. It’s quite alright; it cost my pocket friggin US$2,000… it better be ALRIGHT.
You know what’s strange though?
My entire life can be found on both computers that died on me so I should be crying my heart out.
But I’m not crying.
In fact, I have no tears whatsoever.
I have NO idea why.
I really have no idea why.
I think it’s a sign.
A sign that says "out with the old, in with the new".
Perhaps this new laptop acts as if it is a small token confirming that I have a NEW life.
Ugh. I don’t know what to think anymore.
aka "New Russians" or новые русские (in Cyrillic)
Fall is in full swing and winter is fast approaching.
It won’t be long until people in the northern hemisphere bring out their luscious coats made out of the most fabulous tweeds, the most exotic furs, the warmest wools, the chic cashmeres and of course, puffy, faux-down-filled puffy bomber-style jackets worn by the unfortunate poor ones.
I’m doing my 2nd winter pilgrimage to the land of the the matrioshkas.
You see, I always get that dreaded "Why Russia?" every time I talk about Russia.
No, it’s definitely not about the caviar… even if I eat the finest beluga, sevruga and osetra thrice a day until my poop looks like miniature hershey’s kisses (aka goat poop).
No, it’s definitely not about the vodka… even if I drink vodka all day long.
No, it’s definitely not the gorgeous, tall, skinny, runway model lookey-likey girls.
No, it’s most definitely not the hunt for gorgeous, fit, toned boys aka my own personal Olympic gymnast/swimmer/sports person.
No, it’s definitely not the cold weather.
No, it’s definitely not the ostentatious display of wealth by the New Russians
So why Russia?
No amount of Russian Tourist Board propaganda (I don’t think there’s one) can convince me to go to the land of the czars and the communists other than these 2 pictures can.
Now THAT is something.
Come visit Russia, land of vodka, caviar and um, um, um…
I’m at a loss of words on this one.
A couple of friends and moi have been toying around the idea of buying one of those gorgeous Vertu phones.
I don’t care what y’all say – you can all burn in gold digging hell but one day, oh yes, on day, once I’ve found that good-looking special someone who will spoil me rotten till fruit flies feast on my internal organs, I’ll have him buy me an US$18,750.00 Vertu Yellow Gold mobile phone.
Unfortunately, I’m not flash-cashed enough to warrant such ostentatious appreciation for something a mere Nokia can do. I lose a handful of phones year after year after year and I simply cannot afford losing US$18,750 Vertu phones like candy. Afterall, I’d rather buy precious haute couture for the price of 4 Vertu Phones.
1) Trusty old (it’s so trusty that it’s already crusty) Nokia 6680
2) Fendi mirrored squirrel charm
3) Dior cellphone charm
4) Dior charm
5) Bottega Veneta crocodile leather charm (elephant)
Why settle for 1 charm when you can go all out? I don’t care if my phone weighs like a fuckin brick, it’s all about what’s hanging on there. I’m gonna buy more and more charms and keychains for the electronic device that has gotten me into all sorts of drunk dialling misdemeanor and social trouble for far too many times.
I need to buy 2 new phones, probably either the same model.. or a Moto Razr V3 in black. The Nokia 8800 looks tempting too but it’s too expensivo for a phone.
Bah! I’m always like this; I’m such a penny-pinching, cheap-ass bitch when it comes to spending on all other material items but I guiltlessly throw money away when it comes to designer handbags and clothes.
This post is sponsored by:
Hair Heaven and Hell
I went to the salon today, in spite of feeling very sick. I procrastinated long enough already. Looks like my bronchitis is back. I have the worst cough ever, the crappiest colds, a sore throat and slight fever. Let’s leave my health out of the question now. Save it for tomorrow when I go to the doctor.
I really don’t know whether or not my new hair style/colour is a disaster. All of the comments I received so far (especially the ones coming from my familia de horreur) are good.
As far as I’m concerned, I have always loved my locks my
African-American, African, Euro-Carribean, Carribean, etc. counterparts
woud be proud of – black, black and black.
You see, I don’t care about those who get their locks dyed like a dead hairy animal that Saga Furs would be proud of.
If people want to colour their hair a ridiculous shade of bubble gum pink or a fabulous shade of brown, let them be.
I think this post calls for a Bryanboy Life Archives Moment… haha!
Back to the past we go…
I lost my hair’s virginity to peroxide back when I was 15 or 16. The culprit: one of those cheap, tacky, blonde-in-a-bottle stuff. God knows where I found the courage, the balls and the guts to do it back then.
At that time, everyone must have thought of me as a freak. Even my ex-bf thought I was a freak.
We used to go into one of those fun photo booths that spit out a postcard with what your children will look like based on both of your facial features. They’re called "LoveLove Simulation". 2 people go in, the machine takes a photo, then you wait for like 30 seconds before it prints out funny cards that look like these.
According to the machine, if procreation was possible, our offpspring would look like these:
BTW, I covered my face and that of my ex. Trust me, we both look extremely hideous at that time.
As if I don’t look hideous these days.
Point is, the fact that I had faux blonde hair at one point of my entire life is sufficient enough to give me goosebumps the size of Canada.
That blonde moment is still giving me nightmares right until this day.
If you regret living the 80s, then I regret living 1998.
Life Archives Over.
Now… 7 years later, my hair looks like this.
My stylist at Franck Provost used some shade of brown as base and then a lighter shade for highlights.
It’s really hard to describe what my hair looks like NOW. You have got to see it in person before you make the judgment. The camera flash was prolly too bright, making my hair look awful.
When I look in the mirror, the colour isn’t that noticeable. My hair is still dark… very dark… oh yes… it’s just that there’s a slight difference.
Personally, I think it’s nice… well, nicer than my usual jet black (+ white strands here and there) locks. Even my familia de horreur thinks it’s nice. They thought it’s refreshing.
I dunno. *sigh*
I still have doubts at the back of my head though.
We’ll see how my friends will react when I go out over the weekend.
When I get better that is.
I’m sure I will.
Bryanboy Loves… and Random Cheesemax
#1 – Bryanboy loves people from Edgware, England UK, Stavanger, Norway, Miami, Florida (especially to the one who sent me an SMS/Text message earlier), Calgary, Alberta, Chicago, IL, Windsor Park Estate, Singapore, Nedlands, Western Australia, Tempe, NSW in Australia, Boca Raton, FL and finally, people from Studio City, CA! Bryanboy loves y’all bitches! Identify yourselves and tell me you love me.
#2 – Bryanboy loves Cosmo Magazine! Buy Cosmo Magazine’s (Philippines) October 2005 issue. I’m totally honored, honored, honored to be there. Buy this month’s issue now! I’m scanning the entire page once our maid wakes up and put it on my press archive. My scanner/printer isn’t plugged to the extension cord therefore I can’t turn it on and I have a phobia on plugging all things electrical. I took a picture using my camera though.
#3 – Bryanboy loves The Pepper Mill (by Pepper Teehankee) at the Philippine Star. I know my picture looks awful on the monitor cause I didn’t scan the thing but yeah, I think that picture is one of the best pictures I have – on print. I should try to practice that pose often. I shall name it the "little-miss-innocent-princes-takes-a-peek" look. Hahahaha!
#4 – The gold bracelet that I wore today is from Louis Vuitton. I bought it after seeing it at V Magazine (issue 37 – Fall 2005). It’s sooo ghetto fabulous. Wear it with a Birkin bag and it’s very Eurotrash! I love it. There’s a necklace version of it but I don’t think I want to get it.
#5 – I’m being talked about on this forum, Authentic Louis Vuitton Addicts.
Unfortunately, the powers that may be requires all sorts of private
information, including your first born child’s social security number,
date of birth, blood type and DNA/Paternity Test results because you
can’t figure out who the father of the chid was.
It’s fuckin 1:48AM now… I’ll update later. I got up at friggin 3:00PM yesterday because of this damn respiratory-related disease (bronchitis, cough, colds) that I have. Ughhh why can’t my health fuckin deteriorate at a different time. Trust me sweetheart, no more Dunhill Lights for me.
Believe it or not I haven’t had a cigarette since Wednesday around 4AM!!!!
You know where to contact me… firstname.lastname@example.org or +63-915-785-1492.
(as always. say it with me now… Bah-boosh! No, not Ba-bush like George Bush, but, Baboosh as in Baboosh-ka!)
P.S. This one’s courtesy of MadeinBrazil.Typepad.com and for all the girls and faggots out there.
Meet Mateus Verdelho.
Click here for pics… and even more pics.
Do you think he can make you cream your panties?
Y’all tell me when you want to go to Brazil and I’m buying first class plane tickets for myself pronto.