Dream of Domestication
Pay your surgeon very well to break the spell of aging. Celebrity skin is this your chin or is that war you’re waging. First born unicorn, hardcore soft porn… Dream of californication. Dream of californication.
Dream of Domestication
Pay your surgeon very well to break the spell of aging. Celebrity skin is this your chin or is that war you’re waging. First born unicorn, hardcore soft porn… Dream of californication. Dream of californication.
AZNNNN FUCKIN PRIDE
Oh my god. You are so not gonna believe what I’ve gotten myself into these days.
I am sooooooooooo sorry for the lack of updates recently. My mother made me watch all these Korean DVDs and thanks to her, I’m totally hooked. I just finished watching the entire "My Name is Kim Sam Soon" set… all 9 DVDs of them.
I’m telling you… those Korean DVDs are evil. EVIL EVIL EVIL!
I bet my soul is burning in Seoul as I speak. All these Korea Korean nonsense DVDs are a threat to my fabulousness – I haven’t done anything productive in the past 2 days.
I don’t even know why I liked watching em. I laughed. I cried a little bit. I got pissed off. Heck, I could barely understand the English subtitles yet the damn soap was entertaining.
Someone please rescue me before I develop an intraracial obsession.
I’m seriously thinking of buying a plane ticket to Seoul and get myself a Korean loverboy. Those Korean guys are starting to grow on me. I think they’re lovely. A shitload of them look gay. Take that Hyun Bin guy (one of the lead characters in Kim Sam Soon) for instance. Man, he looks soo gay he’s soo cute.
Look at those nails!!!!! French tips! They’re SOOOOOOO FUCKIN GAYYYYYYYYY!!
THIS IS INSANE!!!!
I already feel dirty for googling him and search for his pictures.
Why oh why am I doing this? This is completely absurd and preposterous. This AZN obsession has to stop. Next thing you know, I’d be dancing to J-POP (Japanese Pop), wear Hello Kitty outfits and say SUPER KAWAIIIIIIIIIIII.
Besides, I don’t wanna end up with someone who looks like this.
Dirty dirty dirty.
You know what’s even funny? I’ve been having daily chat sessions with one of my long-time Mexican buddies, Mauricio, who is now in Madrid. We’re both having a little asian obsession right now. SOMEONE PLEASE TURN US INTO TAI-TAIS!!!!!!
mauricio: you got to fix me up with one of your rich asian friends
BryanBoy: they’re all straight and married hahahaha
mauricio: fuck dem asians
BryanBoy: exactly. we need aryans sweetie. think of the babies. mixed race babies are the chanel of babies
mauricio: i want asian, it’s easier, they’ll be all ooh and aah with my big eyes and my natural wavy hair, and my big dick cuz these are asian. everything is big to them.
mauricio: i love being un-PC
BryanBoy: look at friggin AZN pride. it’s like incest. it’s hard to penetrate asian society. no wonder everyone looks the same.
mauricio: but i look white. they love the white
BryanBoy: not the yellow ones babe. it’s the brownies who love the white. sucky sucky 5 dolla you love me long time 10 dolla. you gib 20 dolla i gib free tom yum
mauriciom: out of roast duck?
mauricio: dood, these brownies need to get with the program and give me money
mauriciom: i’m so going filipino hunting
BryanBoy: Come to the philippines. They’d LOOOVE you here. Flips love foreigners. you’d be soooo exotic here.
mauricio: maybe then i can be a tai tai
mauricio: i need a tagalog dictionary if i’m gonna successfully infiltrate filipino society
BryanBoy: hmm. you don’t need a dictionary babe. all you need to do is wave your exotic dick and speak the international language of love.
I don’t wanna be disowned by my own race. Being disowned by your friends and family is bad enough. HAHAHAHAHAHAH.
Get your Fendi B bags PRONTO! Just got a medium-sized canvas B-bag with the black patent and it’s gorgeous! I know I look rough and unshaven – I asked my maid Eunice to take these photos at 5:17AM earlier when I chatted to my buddy Mauricio in Madrid.
Norma Kamali for Everlast black cocoon cardigan, cheapo black tank top from god knows where, jeans by Cheap Monday, Fendi B bag, Dior sunglasses.
Large patent leather B bags run at US$2,000 while the medium-sized canvas bag with black patent leather buckles is set at US$1,430. Available at eLuxury.com, Neiman Marcus, Bergdorf Goodman and Fendi stores worldwide.
Kimora’s a Keeper
I’d like to say hello and give a big shout out to all the wonderful people from CRUNKTASTICAL (aka CRUNK + DISORDERLY). I love each and every one of you bitches. I’m glad to know that one of the hottest sites for African-American entertainment loves me.
Some of you think that I can give Kimora a run for her millions but in all seriousness, I’m just a little dirty middle class brown gook who lives in the cesspit of a fabulous land in the third world called the Philippines. If you can find me a sugar daddy, preferably with ill-gotten wealth (i.e. firearms business, drug dealing, stolen cars, insurance fraud, etc), no older than 35 with at least 9-figures worth in liquid assets and a 9-inch dick, please feel free to pass them my web address and tell me to contact me as soon as possible.
I’ve got no words to say. Kimora likes to soak her feet in champagne. That’s outrageous! I know good ol’ Kate Moss filled a tub with bubbly at one point but this is something else. Thanks for giving me a new photo to jack off to. A friend and I loved that ad campaign where she came out of a private jet. Kimora’s a keeper y’all!!
Visit Crunktastical at http://www.crunktastical.blogspot.com.
Her name is Jean Godfrey-June and she’s the Beauty Editor of Lucky Magazine.
Photo credit: New York Times
According to the her interview published at the New York Times, this v.v. Lucky lady gets anywhere between 50-250 product samples daily, along with fabulous items such as Pucci scarves, yoga mats and novelty chocolates. The article also mentioned how beauty editors (at least in the USA, don’t know elsewhere) also get Prada outfits, Cartier watches, free restaurant meals, press lunches at the Four Seasons, cosmetic treatments, exotic trips, free limo rides and trips to La Perla with $1,000 gift certificates etc. that sort of thing.
I have one thing to say: HOLY FUCKING SHIYETTTTTT.
I am soooo fucking jealous.
I think I already wrote on a previous post that I read a British Vogue article about another beauty editor who literally filled her entire house with beauty products to the point where she stored hundred-dollar creams and potions in her kitchen cupboard.
Also, one of my good friends here in Manila told me how her car trunk was constantly filled with beauty products when she held the same position at one point.
Set it in stone bitches. One day I’m gonna have a job exactly like that.
Except I’d get free accessories. Lots and lots and lots and lots of free accessories.
Am I really the forbidden fruit? What do you think will it take for someone like you to love me?
Sometimes, I feel like I’m a bald, virgin vagina that belongs to an 11 year old named "Tiffany Tara". You know you want to love me but you can’t cause you’ve got yourself on a self-imposed restraining order. It’s forbidden. Very forbidden.
What’s up with all these white people sending tummy pictures? I WANT FACES GOD DAMMIT. Thanks for the love though ;)
As always, you know where to send imagery of your love. Email firstname.lastname@example.org.
For the life of god, please be creative. I’ve been begging and begging and begging and begging for you people to go to the nearest fire or police station and get a bunch of macho, muscled men in uniform hold the "I LOVE BRYANBOY" sign. HAHAHAHAHA!
Bryanboy Loves… and Random Cheesemax
#1 – Bryanboy loves people from Conegliano, Italy, Eggenhof, Germany, Aalbeek, Netherlands, Mechelen, Begium, Helsinki, Finland, Gatineau, Quebec Canada, Diserd, Sweden, Oxton, UK, ozone Park, NY, Essendon, VIC Australia, Parow, South Africa, East Meadow, NY, Wirksworth, UK, Monrovia, CA, Kiel, Belgium, Solna Sweden, Lisbon, Portugal and of course, all the gorgeous guys and hot chicks from Orlando, FL. I love each and every one of you mother fuckers. Say hi, don’t be shy!
#2 – I love Kim Aviance. You have to watch this video. If Amanda Lepore is the world’s #1 transexual, Kim Aviance is the world’s best drag queen.
Click here to watch Kim Aviance at Amanda Lepore’s birthday.
My friend Mauricio told me that we should roll like Kim. I told him not with confetti but cold, hard cash or cocaine. Then he said, cocaine bricks and Harry Winston diamonds!!!
Imagine the show eh? I LOOOOOOOOOOOVE IT!!!!
#3 – I just checked my stats and I’m quite surprised how only 13% of my readership comes from the Philippines. Prime proof that my laughable presence is still relatively unknown in this country… Either that or more and more people from other countries are reading my blog therefore fucking up my Philippine-related statistics.
Believe it or not, I’d rather be unknown in my homeland so I can still keep this place as a safe haven of some sort. One must be insane for wanting to be a big fish in such a small pond.
#4 – I need a publicist. For free. Someone who can make me even famous in exchange for sexual favours. Someone like Eliot Mintz, who is Paris Hilton’s publicist, except cuter.
Shit, I can’t even believe I asked one of my friends whether he’s gay or not. My friend hasn’t even heard of him. I searched on google for his picture and found this.
I guess anyone who looks like a carrot standing next to Yoko Ono is gay. My friend told me he looks antique. HAHAHAHAH. I replied back telling him Eliot kinda looks like vintage Louis Vuitton steamer trunks pre-monogram era. Whatever, right? He’s still one of Hollywood’s most powerful publicists.
#5 – Speaking of Louis Vuitton, it’s been ages since I visited their website. I went there the other day and boy I had goosebumps watching (and listening to) the flash file intro. You have to see AND listen to it for yourself. Click here.
#6 – Man, Marc Jacobs is lookin really old these days. Marc having lunch with La Lohan.
#7 – Does anyone know who made the skinny jeans Nicole is wearing? I want them…
#8 – Keep an eye out on Gram shoes/sneakers. Gram is one of Sweden’s newest design exports. I really, really, really love those Swedes.
They even named their shoes based on the weight of the shoe themselves. Personally I like the high-cut sneaker in white denim.
#9 – Have you ever been harassed on the street? You have to check out this blog. It’s soooo hilarious. Women all over the place take pictures of their harassers and post them online.
Harassment is wrong, evil and dirty. But in all seriousness, if my harasser is cute, hot, rich and well-hung, I’d open my ass wide and give it to him with no restraint whatsoever.
I’m gonna stop myself from making comments about sexual harassment. I don’t wanna open a can-full of worms because at the end of the day, I’m still a perverted faggot.
I think that’s all for now. I REALLY have to work on my podcast and reply to all my emails.
I love each and every one of you. Email email@example.com or SMS +63-915-785-1492.
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.
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
#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.