Back to Square One You Sad, Pathetic Fag
Yesterday was one heck of a night. A night I’ll (sadly)always remember… a night I most certainly want to forget. Posting about it probably won’t help but I need to vent out.
Before going to the party, I had a feeling something’s up in the air.
Remember how I told y’all I got so drunk each and every night when I went on that mini island holiday?
I’ve been told last night that I really hurt and offended a lot of people last weekend. I got absolutely drunk one night and I verbally lashed out on everyone who was with me at the time – the same people who believed in me and supported me right from the start. Apparently I was being obnoxious, rude and said a lot of painful shit.
I honestly can’t remember what exactly happened and what it is that I said to everyone that night. I simply have no recollection whatsoever. At all. I do remember going back to the hotel at 4AM and I passed out on the floor after taking a sleeping pill.
I cringed with horror when I heard about my (unacceptable) behavior. I had tears in my eyes when they told me about it. I apologized to the people involved but one can tell the damage I made was irreparable.
Anyway, I saw someone I haven’t seen in the longest time. I always have fun everytime I see him. I’ve learned a lot from this person. I gained insight every time we had a conversation… conversations that sometimes lasted for hours. I’ve always felt confident and I trusted this person completely. His words are extremely warm and comforting. He understands everything I’m saying without any fail.
I opened up to him about things that are going on. How and what I feel. We talked about my behavior over the weekend. We talked about a lot of things, some of my problems etc. I felt happy again. Shit, happy isn’t the appropriate word to use. I felt secure. Yes. Secure – someone I can open up with, just what I needed at the time.
I showed him several messages on my phone. This is my biggest mistake and this is clearly where I’m at fault.
There were 4 messages.
One of them is a snippet from the anonymous blog comment/email I got. I didn’t have time to print the entire thing so I sent myself a text message the part where it said "we actually hate u even just a glimps of ur shaddow or just hearing the tone of ur barked up voice. "oh here comes trannie agen, pretend were all dolled up on him and amazed about his bags". That was 10:51PM.
The other 3 messages were genuine advice from friends. 2 of which came from the same person while the other came from somebody else.
The rest is history and better left unsaid.
To cut the story short, I ended up igniting an argument.
It’s hard to put words on how I feel. I think disgust is the right word.
I’m disgusted at myself.
I’m digusted at my poor judgment of people.
I’m disgusted for taking other people’s precious advice for granted.
I’m disgusted for betraying people’s trust in me.
I’m digusted for not being sensitive enough on all of my actions.
I’m disgusted at myself for trusting people too easily I break other people’s confidence in me in the process.
There really is no one else to blame other than myself. Why did I even bother showing my messages and advice I got (even as part of conversation) when it’s none of his business?
And you know what’s really sad? This isn’t the first time it happened. It happened to me many, many times and I still haven’t learned from my mistakes.
All of my friendships and relationships have always been short-lived because I fuck things up big time. I have this (effortless) tendency of breaking other people’s confidence in me because I simply don’t know when AND how to shut the fuck up.
Perhaps this is exactly the reason why I am quite possibly the most materialistic son of a bitch in this planet. My life is one big mess. I’m a complete failure everywhere I go, everything that I do and everyone I deal with. And sometimes… no… and most of the time, I delude myself into thinking things will get better by shopping. Reality check: what else do I have at this point other than a bunch of designer bags that will depreciate its value over time?
I have no one.
I have nothing!
This experience taught me a lot of things.
- I can’t and shouldn’t be trusted with anything.
- I’m not good at nurturing interpersonal relationships with people.
Friends eh? You gain some, you lose them all.
Here’s the funny thing: I’m at that stage where I want to call someone… anyone… anyone whom I consider a "friend", just to reach out, open up and burst.
But I won’t. Because I know one way or another I’ll fuck up. Just like what I’ve always done in the past.
Err no. that’s not the reason why.
I won’t call someone/anyone because I don’t have the balls and the face to put up after this whole thing happened.
I need a clean slate. Yes. That’s what I need.
A clean slate and a new me.
Hi. I’m Bryan. Will you be my friend?
I think you’re better off by saying NO.
I’m destined to be alone forever. Always have, always will.
It’s 2:30PM, Sunday, April 9, 2006.
Lindsay Lohan and Luxury by Chanel
I’m not surprised La Lohan is carrying one of Chanel’s "Luxury by Chanel" handbag line. Grab one of these bags now! The metallic bags are gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous! I got my medium-sized bowling bag in silver for US$2,160 tax-free! It’s not bad for Chanel when most of their 2.55 bags start at $1,500 and above. FYI, there’s a denim version of the bowling bag I’m waiting for and it’s a little cheaper. The leather is gorgeous and it comes with a peach-like colored lining. It’s a really fantastic bag; this bag, like most ‘classic’ Chanel bags, will last you an entire lifetime.
Buy, buy, buy, buy!
Listen to me mother fuckers… you won’t regret it. This bag is soooo lightweight and soft, you can put a shitload of stuff inside it.
Bryanboy Loves… and Random Cheesemax
#1 – Paris Hilton is on the May 2006 cover of Elle Magazine UK. Click here for more pictures. It’s the same issue where she slammed ex-BFF Nichole Richie as jealous and fame hungry. Oh dear.
Quotable Paris quote: "When I was 13, I really wanted a boob job because all my friends started to have boobs and I was the only one who looked like a boy. But you know what? I like being flat. I never have to wear a bra."
You go girlfriend! Tell ‘em that big tits are for mothers and hookers. I don’t even understand why species of the male human kind go for big tits. I mean, seriously, how can someone be sooo fuckin turned on with a pair of enormous lactating melons? Ugh. Awful. Just awful!
#2 – Random cheesemax on the net
- click here | Mischa Barton wants to quit O.C.
- click here | HOT! Jessica Simpson sued for $100,000,000 (100 Million US Dollars)
- click here | Mariah Carey agrees perfume duel with Elizabeth Arden. Eeek!
- click here | HOT! Move over Natalia Vodiavodafone. Kate Moss signed a new contract with good ol Calvin.
- click here | The "Glamazon from Down Under" will star Valentino’s fall campaign
#3 – Avril Lavigne preggers? Bah. I never really liked that chick. She looks like a friggin vampire. Hello, she’s got FANGS!!!!!!!! I’m glad to know I’m not the only one who is getting obese these days.
#4 – WHO THE HELL IS THAT FAGGOT WITH LINDSAY LOHAN?
I KEEP SEEING HIM ALL THE FRIGGIN TIME!!! HIS HEAD HAIR LOOKS LIKE PUBIC HAIR. TELL THAT FAGGOT TO CLEAN UP HIS ACT.
I’m gonna update later.
I’m sooo bored out of my skull it doesn’t make sense for me to stay at home on a Saturday afternoon. My maid Eunice is planning to go to the supermarket I think I’m gonna
tag along with her grab some vanilla ice-blended and buy some lip gloss.
My life is sooooooo dull it’s not even funny.
I’ll update when I get back. I love you all as always.
And please… for the life of god email me. Or send me an SMS. You know my number. +63-915-785-1492.
52 Things You Don’t Know About Me
1. I love fast food.
2. I love sushi and miso soup.
3. I can’t stand fruit juices or shakes. I’d rather drink coca-cola.
4. I need to have at least 4 pillows on a bed before I can sleep.
5. I’m scared of the dark.
6. I usually think of death/dying right before I sleep.
7. I shave my armpits.
8. I’m not a big coffee drinker. I like iced cafe lattes though.
9. I love tea.
10. I’m a sucker for chick flicks.
11. I only have 610 tracks on my ipod.
12. All my crushes (and previous crushes) are always taken.
13. I was once accused of having sex with a former close friend’s ex-boyfriend. It’s not even true.
14. I have a tendency to buy friendships. I’ve been used and burned a ton of times but I kinda like it.
15. I like to dwell on negative issues and petty things.
16. I sometimes lie to shop assistants telling them "please reserve the item for me" when in reality I won’t go back cause either a) I can’t afford it or b) I don’t have the balls to tell them I don’t like it and they are pressuring me to get it.
17. I shop when I’m depressed. I never shop when I’m happy.
18. I never look at the bill whenever I eat at restaurants. I’d rather just hand them my card and sign the tab.
19. I haven’t "come out" to my parents.
20. I like jacking off to straight porn.
21. I’m a compulsive liar.
22. I once had a a batch of my dead grandfather’s blank prescription notepads (he’s a doctor). I forged his signature to buy sleeping pills. I literally fainted when I found out our maid threw them away.
23. I have a small scar on my shoulder hence the fake tattoo.
24. I have this thing with stripes. I have all sorts of stripe-y tank tops, t-shirts, 3/4 sleeves, sweaters, etc.
25. For some strange reason, my (usually dry) hands tend to get very sweaty whenever I get out of the house at night.
26. I use women’s deodorant.
27. I got a real tattoo right beside my belly button. I got it when I was 14.
28. I got my first "paycheck" when I was 17. It was around US$250 and all I did was answer the phone and take messages for an American author. For an entire month.
29. I used to call those phone sex hotlines in the Carribean when I was 13/14. I found the phone numbers at the back of Rolling Stone Magazine. My favourite line to pick up guys? "Hi, My name is Amber. I’m 16 and I have a bald pussy". My English was soo bad that’s the only thing I used to say other than the faux moans and groans I did on the phone.
30. My first internet purchase was a canvas tote bag from L.L. Bean.
31. When I was a child, I used to go to this used magazine shop called "BookSale" to buy old and overpriced publications. What did I collect back then? Bloody JC Penney catalogs.
32. I got my first subscription to American Vogue in 1996.
33. I NEVER talk to strangers whenever I go out… unless they initiate the conversation. I still have emotional scars from trying to pick up this really cute guy when I was 16… I was at this game arcade place with my friends and I asked the guy "hey, where do I put the tokens" and he told me "it’s right there. are you blind?". It was soo traumatic I cried in the toilets.
34. I had my first "solo" holiday when I was 15. I spent an entire week in Boracay Island and I made friends with a trannie hair stylist called "Marie". She had a salon called "Marie’s Salon. For Males, Females and Third Sex"… or something like that. She called me "Miss Prada" because of the excessive amount of black nylon Prada items I had, including a tiny coin purse.
35. On that same holiday, I met this German gay couple in their early 20s. One of them made me smoke pot. The other guy got so pissed that he punched his boyfriend. I asked them what was going on and he told me I was too young to do that stuff.
36. I once owned a pair of 7-inch platform sneakers. They’re called Kelton sneakers. I wore them every damn day back when the Spice Girls were popular. Mighty bond and super glue were my best friends. I even wore them when I went to friggin Reykjavik, Iceland. I’ve never, ever tripped, not even once, in those shoes.
37. I went to my first rave when I was 16. I wore a black nylon skirt, I wrapped my entire torso in red yarn and I wore this massive blue fake fur jacket.
38. I became a member of the "Book of the Month" club when I was 14.
39. Romy & Michelle’s High School Reunion is my favourite movie.
40. I once spent an awful amount of time at Starbucks back when they just opened in the Philippines. All I did was drink a shitload of orange juice, coffee and eat california maki (yes!!). I even made friends with this prostitute who used to go with her clients to the hotel right beside it. We were chatting one night and I was bored out of my skull. She told me to hang out with her and we went to this bar called "Giraffe". Boy that bar was definitely something… faggots hang around on the left side of the bar while straight people stayed on the right side. The bar had a dress code where men (or boys) are required to wear leather shoes and a top that has a collar. I had a tank top on and the prostitute took off her top (a see-through black shirt) and told me to wear it.
41. That prostitute sobered up her act and reformed a couple of years ago. For some strange reason, she found out what my landline number is and she calls once or twice a year. She’s the ultimate stalker. My dad told her a couple of years ago to stop calling me. The last time she called was a few weeks ago and my dad told me that I should talk to her for posterity’s sake because she cleaned up her act and she’s "harmless".
42. What’s the most frivolous item I once owned? It’s a tie between my Hermès chewing gum holder (mustard color) and black GG-logo Gucci flotation device/lifesaver.
43. I bleached my hair blonde. Once. Never again. I’m scarred for life.
44. My claim to fame was the fact that I was able to get a Birkin bag in 1 hour.
45. The last time I had sex was back on December 27, 2005 at Charles de Gaulle airport in Paris.
46. I always, always lie about my weight. Even I don’t know how much I weigh. I like to tell people I weigh 117 pounds. Thank god most people believe me though.
47. I’ve never paid for sex before. I did, however, hire a prostitute. I was 19 and bored out of my skull in London. I had this gay weekly magazine and called a muscle mary hooker at 2AM, asked him to drop by at my hotel. I told him to give me a foot and back massage. Oh, and I also asked him to paint my toenails pale blue. Best £70 EVER!
48. When I went to St. Petersburg, Russia 2 years ago, some scary mafia-looking Russian man in his 30s offered to pay me US$2,000 to "teach him English" in his hotel room because he overheard me speak the language to my Russian friends inside a club. I politely said no. English my fucking arse, I’m sure all he wanted to do is fuck my little brown fanny.
49. I’m a member of the mile-high club.
50. A British Airways steward (note: male stewardess) gave me an entire bottle of champagne for me to enjoy because "he’s never seen anyone young and good looking in his cabin in a long time". I was only 17.
51. I have this thing with designer beach towels. Louis Vuitton, Gucci, Chanel, Hermès.
52. I know how to drive… but I don’t know how to park. The last time I drove a car was back in 2002. I got involved in 2 car accidents; I got REAR-ENDED. Twice.
Long, Hot Summer
Remember how I recently complained on how I *NEVER* get free trips?
Well, I got my first ever "free" vacation without paying a single dime on BOTH the airfare and hotel accommodations.
I just got back yesterday morning from a wonderful weekend in Boracay Island, one of my favourite islands here in the third world. The Local Government of Malay, Aklan and SEA Air sent over 120 members of the press, local designers, models and celebrities for a weekend of food, fun and frolics. SEA Air flies several dozen times daily from Manila – the fastest way to go to the island… 35 minutes! I stayed at the Pearl of Pacific resort.
Speaking of summer, it was sooo hot in the island I was sweating VODKA round the clock. I swear to my grandmother’s grave that vodka overflowed the mother fuckin island… the more I drink, the more I sweat. I pretty much got intoxicated each and every night I was there. In fact, I got back to my old drunk dialling habits; I drunk-dialled some of my girlfriends in Manila (and all over the place) at friggin 4 in the morning. I got soooo hammered one night and I rang some of my friends whilst running on the beach on the way back to the hotel at dawn – alone and drunk. Ugh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
In spite of being on the island for 4 days, I only managed to swim once and sunbathe for about 10 minutes! I’ll definitely come back though (soon) and enjoy what the island really has to offer, sea, sun and sand, amongst other things, with very close friends and/or family.
P.S. Boys and girls, you gotta check out that new place called Asya Resort. It’s sooo GORGEOUS! All of their chic guestrooms are decorated in a modern manner and the bathrooms are extremely spacious. I love that resort and I’ll most definitely stay there the next time I’m back in the island.
What’s up with the abundance of guys emailing me recently?
From NYC to California, I’ve been getting a lot of emails (and pictures that can give any random dirty old pundit a hard on without using viagra) from all these guys recently.
For the life of god, just get a bloody plane ticket and come visit me here in the third world/Las Islas Filipinas! You know who you are. Plane tickets are cheap and I’ll give you a lovey lovey good time!
Meet Jose Luis from Mexico.
Being Sick is NOT an Option.
Believe it or not, I’m still sick. I have the worst cough and colds EVER. My nose is sore and red from blowing all that snot. My unhealthy lifestyle is definitely taking its toll on my health: bing eating, lack of sleep, chain-smoking, booze, etc.
I was supposed to go to my doctor this afternoon for a quick check-up but I ended up pampering myself instead, after partying the other night at the Shu Uemura/Motorola event.
Isn’t it hilarious how I have my priorities fucked up? For instance, my sister and I spent the entire afternoon together. Getting a facial (plus a back massage, a manicure and a pedicure at my local nail place, Tips and Toes) is more important than getting a chest/lung x-ray and going to the doc.
3 women working on your body while you’re reading a magazine: bliss.
(Hat by Frankie Morello, sunglasses from Gucci, sneakers from Fendi, t-shirt from Dior Homme, shorts from Kenneth Cole, bag from Dior)
Why oh why am I doing this to myself? Is beauty worth sacrificing one’s health?
Obviously the answer is "NO" but I’m not gonna be a hypocrite and say I’ll stop shooting heroin and turn myself into a vegan.
Is being beautiful healthy… or is being healthy beautiful?
I know I said this many, many times: I wanna be 75 years old and wear Oscar de la Renta. However, I’d be lucky to even reach 30 at the rate things are going in my personal life.
Fuck it. I really need to adapt some sort of a healthy lifestyle. You know… I gotta quit smoking, sleep at least 8 hours A DAY, eat sensibly, exercise and cut back on my alcohol consumption. Easy to say than done eh?
Afterall, I can’t afford to be sick. I have hot and horny boys all over the world I need to please sexually.
I love each and every one of you. Seriously. It takes a lot of balls to send "I Love Bryanboy" pics to planet earth’s favourite third world fag.
Can I just say that the last time I saw/touched/felt someone’s cock and balls was back on DECEMBER 27, 2005?
As always, you know where to send imagery of your love. Email firstname.lastname@example.org. NO photoshopped photos please.
I have to cut this entry short cause it’s 5:12AM and I have a flight to catch in a couple of hours. I haven’t even packed yet!!!!
I love you all. Email me or SMS +63-915-785-1492 and tell me you want to fuck my mangina.
Toxic Week Ahead
To cut this story short, take a peek on my PARTIAL to-do list for the week of March 27 – April 2, 2006.
My life is sooo boring and predictable it’s not even funny.
I hate having short attention span.
I think I need a breakthrough. I need to experience/do something NEW and something different.