Red is the Color of Love
10 more days and it’s Valentine’s Day. My ugly little brown ass is still single, just like it had always been (for the past 3-4 years).
I’m not being demanding. In fact, I’m probably the most reasonable person EVER.
I’m not even asking for a boyfriend. All I’m asking for is a date with a tall, cute guy who will buy me expensive dinner, expensive champagne and give me a tiny red box with a large shiny gift from Cartier.
Anyway, I was cropping the latest batch of photos and I suddenly remembered (OUT OF NOWHERE) an online chat conversation I had with a French one-night stand. I met him a couple of days before I left Paris; we now talk on MSN (webcams and all) every once in a while.
Here’s how the conversation went:
Me: You know what’s weird? The older I seem to get, the younger guys I attract. I hate it. I need a nice man to protect me, not a friggin fetus. All of the guys I get these days are young ones.
Him: You get old… so they’re looking for a sugar daddy.
Me: Some of these guys have disposable incomes so I’m sure that’s not the case. But maybe you’re right. The young ones tend to be attracted to me because of what they see. They think I have money. Oh I hate it. I could never win in this game.
Him: Hahahaha! You are NOT classic enough for the old guy. You are too fashionable. LOL.
Me: I am not "too fashion"
Him: But you are young and young people are like that. Older guys, they want Ralph Lauren Polo and gray pants. SOMEONE THEY CAN SHOW TO THEIR PARENTS LOL
I wanted to slap the mother fucker right then and there.
When you think about it, maybe he’s right.
Perhaps that’s the reason why I’ve been single all along. I’m sooo OUTRé! I am soo in-your-face. Everything about me is distinct: my drug-fucked drag queen voice, my in-your-face clothes, my scary eyes, my trademark onion bulb nose etc.
Maybe… just maybe… I’m good enough for a fuck.
Maybe two fucks. maybe three fucks.
No, make that four fucks.
Shit, I’m probably even good enough as a mistress… or someone in a relationship would cheat with.
But will I ever be good enough to be shown to someone’s parents, cigarettes, bad makeup, warts and all?
I don’t know.
Nobody has tried!
Perhaps the Frenchman was right this time.
Oh well. I’ll tone down when I get my Senior Citizen Discount card.
By the meantime, I hope you enjoyed my paparazzi-style pics. I really need a full-time paparazzi to be on call on my shameless self-promotion PR shots. Hah! Anyone willing to take my photos for free? Email me. I have nothing to give other than sexual favours.
Believe it or not, it’s been quite awhile since I’ve set foot inside a gay bar/club here in the third world.
Government reopened its doors last night after a quick renovation and it was the perfect time to do a "GAY NIGHT" with gay friends and acquaintances.
Bah, everyone is gay these days anyway. There’s the gay-curious brigade, the gay-acting straights, the gays-in-denial… the list goes on and on.
I had soo much fun yesterday… considering I only went out for no more than 3 HOURS! I lost a ton of weight from all that sweating, dancing and roaming I did around the club. I remember getting there at around 1:30AM and I got home at no later than 4:30! It was speed-clubbing at its finest.
Bryanboy Loves… and Random Cheesemax
#1 – Bryanboy loves people from Lancaster, Blackpool, UK, Houston, TX, Manama, Bahrain, Camberwell, VIC, Australia, Stettenberg, Bayern Germany, Moriyacho, Kanagawa Japan, Istanbul, Turkey, Oviedo, FL, Loughborough, UK, Lersen, Staden Kobenhavn Denmark, Tempe, NSW Australia, Malmo, Sweden, Boulogne-Billancourt, France, Askim, Norway, Tokyo, Japan and of course, all my friends from Micarone, Abruzzi Italyyyyyy! I love each and every one of you. Say hi, don’t be shy!
#2 – Big shout out to Altair Drexel of Kelowna, BC Canada! No… I haven’t seen Bareback Mountain yet. Feel free to burn my toes with a cigarette… I’ll watch it soon though. PROMISE!
#3 – I just found out not EVERYONE can view photos hosted on a Flickr website. Several people emailed me and there are some companies out there who blocked their servers from accessing Flickr. My oh my. Don’t worry though… I’m **THIS** close to coming to a solution. I’ll be hosting all my new images at a different hosting site now.
#4 – I HATE MY FRIEND LOUISE FROM SWEDEN. I made her 2 "I Love Louise" pictures and all I got was a crappy photoshopped piece of shit. You know how ****I**** despise photoshop. I’m not even gonna post what she made.
#5 – I can’t believe I missed the Goyard Boutique opening in San Francisco yesterday, Friday. It’s the first Goyard boutique in the world aside from the one in St. Honore in Paris! I’m truly honored to be invited (in spite of haven’t been to San Francisco in my entire life. Oi!) and I genuinely appreciate the gesture.
#6 – JUST KISS ME ALREADY. I AM TIRED OF PLAYING THE GAME. YOU KNOW I LIKE YOU, I KNOW YOU LIKE ME TOO. OK, MAYBE NOT. BUT PLEASE, FOR THE LIFE OF GOD, JUST FUCKING GRAB MY ARM THE NEXT TIME YOU SEE ME AND GIVE ME A GOOD TONGUE ACTION.
#7 – Small favor to those of you who live in the third world. Does anyone around here have a copy of yesterday’s (FRIDAY) Philippine Star newspaper? I have a photo there somewhere. Please, pretty please, look for my photo and scan it for me. I’m begging you. I’ll give you a kiss on the cheek and an oreo cookie if you do this teeny weeny favor for me. Email email@example.com. Thanks!
I think that’s all for now.
Email firstname.lastname@example.org or SMS +63-915-785-1492. TELL ME YOU LOVE ME.
Be happy, be pretty and be gorgeous. Don’t do anything I won’t do.
BRYANBOY EXPOSé: I’M A TEENAGE MOM!
I think it was my mom who once told me that no one can really keep a secret forever. You can’t bring your secrets to the grave. All secrets (apparently), no matter how dark or well-kept they are, get revealed at one point.
I don’t know what your secrets are but I, for one, had to face one of the skeletons in my closet, thanks to my stomach-sucking skills, who failed me for the first time last night.
Cha-ching! What the fuck is that????
That’s me with the birthday girls, Tessa and Xeng.
Yes bitches, I’m fucking pregnant. Again!
You’d think the little fucker got flushed the last time I had a round of diarrhea but little miss bo peep peep got wolverine claws.
I don’t even know who knocked me up! Shit, if only I knew who the father of my unwanted fetus is… I’d be knocking on their fucking doorstep and ask for liposuction money!
Photo credit: Mark Nicdao
I went to my usual haunt La Embajada last night for Xeng and Tessa’s party. The usual suspects were there and boy I had soooo much fun.
It was a good night… shit, I got home at fucking 5:30AM!!!!
So many pictures, so little space.
Believe it or not, people I don’t even know came up to me and talked to me.
I. met. new. people!
It’s amazing how I meet sooooo many people these days.
Around the same time last year I didn’t know shit. I love it. I really do.
I mean, let’s face it, I might as well enjoy it now while I’m at my peak because if I don’t play my cards right, I’ll look like that in a couple of years time.
I HAVE SEEN THE FUTURE AND I SWEAR TO MY DEAD GRANDFATHER’S GRAVE THAT I AM NOT GOING TO END UP LOOKING LIKE THIS.
One day, I’m gonna meet a tall, gorgeous, filthy rich man with ill gotten wealth (gambling, corruption, drugs, extortion, weapons of mass destruction, whatever).
Just as my Mexican buddy Mauricio told me, I’ll be a trophy wife.
We’re gonna be going out in our Lanvin pearls, our Givenchy skirt suits, Roger Vivier stilettos, De Grisogono watch, huge Nancy Gonzalez crocodile satchels in shy black, Stephen Jones hats, Boucheron sunglasses and Revillon furs.
We’ll have lunch at Alain Ducasse, dinners at Le Voltaire and have cocaine-fuelled romps at the Ritz in Paris.
We’ll run out hysterically to the Dior Joaillerie dropping mad plastic. We’ll even have weekly liposuctions.
Shit, we’ll be just like Brigid Berlin (Andy Warhol hanger-on) and her sister Richie, who goes to Bloomingdale’s after getting amphetamine shots just to pick out new clothes and walk out of the store with them on, leaving their old clothes behind.
Not at Bloomingdale’s though… Alaia!
Oh god. I can’t wait to resurrect the fucking concorde… spend my morning and afternoons in Paris and evenings in New York.
Oh I love Mauricio. He’s in Madrid now though. *sigh*
Bryanboy Loves… and Random Cheesemax
#1 – Bryanboy loves people from Hanoi, Vietnam, Riyadh, Saudi Arabia, Kelso, NSW Australia, Seoul, South Korea, Kuching, Sarawak Malaysia, Hoogvliet, Holland, Darch, VIC Australia, Banksmeadow, NSW Australia, Glasgow, Scotland, Beijing, China, Bangkok, Thailand, Jonkopping, Sweden, Kareela, NSW Australia, Zamboanga Del Sur, Philippines (OMG they have internet down there?), Wuliao, Taiwan and of course, all the cuties who live in Calgary, AB Canada!! I love you all! Identify yourselves bitches and say hello.
#2 – I have another live interview coming up in a few days. This time I’ll wear Helmut Lang. We’ll see.
#3 – If you’re near the Quezon City area, be sure to visit Green Papaya Art Projects (www.greenpapaya.org) at 124A Maginhawa St., Teachers Village East, Diliman QC on Feb 16 or 17 at 9PM. Tickets cost P100 (or US$2).
Anatomy of Humiliation in Desire (Anatomy Project 3) is a collaborative research project by artists from diverse disciplines as contemporary dance, video, new media and sound, that captures the awkward, hesitation and poignant in human relationships. It aims to investigate the paradox of love by venturing into the ambiguous space that separates love from hate, violence and tenderness, anticipation and hesitation, fear and bewilderment. Dancers research on the physicality of naïve and inexplicable emotions by exploring the gestures, movement and bodily attitude suggesting the violence, fear, irony, humor and humiliation of falling in love. Both audience and artists attempt the cartography of humiliation in desire in an evening of frenzied awkwardness, anxious hesitation, laughter and frustration.
#4 – Lots of stunning photo submissions from my readers all over the world.
Holy shit. Even an entire class (from the top law school/ivy league unis in the country) sent me a photo of their unconditional love. Say hello to these lawyers/future lawyers. Click here for the full-sized version.
It’s nice to see the faces of the people who will defend me in the event I murder someone in the future for life insurance money or a good handbag.
God. I’m shocked!
This is what happens when your girl_friend (or should I say girlfriend?) forced you to wear stilettos and carry a Longchamp bag.
These kids are soooo adorable.
Isn’t Riza sweet?
#5 – I have one thing to say to all these Swedish faggots in denial:
Om du inte vet din stil, maybe its maybelline!!!!!!
#6 – I hate it when old flames rekindle well, old flames. Where’s Dr. Phil when you need him most?
#7 – Brazilian Michael Camiloto (Gucci boy) is just hot. Hot, hot, hot, hot, hot! Courtesy of BlogMadeinBrazil.com. I’m telling you, I am soo going to Brazil one day and get myself a hot Brazilian papi to bring me shopping to Daslu (if they’re still open by the time I get there).
#8 – I would like to thank Thomas Ruppel for telling me what I already knew.
#9 – Thank god I’m NOT the only one in the world looking like crap leaving the dermatologist’s/aesthetician’s clinic after a facial.
#10 – 12 MORE DAYS AND IT’S FREAKIN VALENTINE’S DAY!
If I’m not mistaken, I have been single for 22 out of 23 years on Valentine’s Day. There was a year when I was with someone but the loser was in New York and sent me home-baked sugar cookies via FedEx.
I NEED A DATE GOD DAMMIT.
I’VE NEVER BEEN ON A VALENTINE’S DAY DATE IN MY LIFE. EVER!
Tell me you love me. Tell me you wanna buy me dinner at my favourite Italian restaurant, L’Opera, here in the Third World on Valentine’s day. Tell me you wanna give me a dozen red roses, a kilo of Pierre Marcolini chocolates and a tiny red box with a shiny big present from Cartier.
Email email@example.com or SMS +63-915-785-1492.
God. I hate ageing.
I’M GOING TO TAKE OVER THE WORLD… AND I’M SCARED!
God knows why my throat is friggin sore. It’s been like this since late last week and it only keeps on getting worse. It feels as if there’s someone cutting my throat with a pair of garden shears. I haven’t been a bad boy; it’s been more than a month since my mouth got in contact with an unidentified throbbing object.
I think it’s time for me to seriously stop smoking.
Fuck, I’ve been smoking since I was 14, possibly younger. You can blame it on my cousins who taught me how to smoke while listening to Alanis Morisette in their car right on my grandma’s wake/funeral.
It’s 5:39AM and I can’t sleep. At all. I haven’t been to my shrink since last year so I don’t have any prescription manna that would put me to heaven. Oh god, did I just say that?
I have this icky feeling at the pit of my stomach that won’t go away.
I tried to count sheep hoping it would induce dreams that involve a gorgeous, fit, 20-something prince charming with nice teeth and a nice smile plus a shopping spree at Chanel.
(OH FUCK IT. WHO THE HELL NEEDS A PRINCE CHARMING WHEN DIY IS MORE SELF-SATISFYING THESE DAYS?)
I got really disturbing thoughts instead.
May god rescue me from the horrors of insanity. I’m too young to be a nutcase!
1) I thought about my lower back pains. I’ve been getting these weird lower back pains the past few months now. It’s bad enough if I’m sitting in front of my desk… it gets worse as soon as I lie down. I asked myself (mentally, that is) ‘I wonder if I should go to my dad’s room and tell him to bring me to the hospital now cause my back pains are really bad?’
2) I just spent 2-3 hours (we ended our conversation at 5AM!!!) chatting to a wonderful, new-but-not-so-new acquaintance who showered me with her wisdom and wise words. One thing she said that hit me really good was something along the lines of "you really gotta love what you do because in the end it’s really not about the money that makes you go to work… it’s the love of the job."
3) I really don’t know where I’m heading right now. I want a sense of direction but my mind’s all over the place. I want to do this. I want to do that. I forgot to do this. I forgot to do that. I gotta do this. I gotta do that. I KNOW I’m definitely going somewhere but it FEELS I’m not going anywhere.
Errr maybe I should change that to ‘I KNOW I’m not going anywhere but it FEELS I’m going somewhere’?
Know what I mean?
4) I think I might have lost weight. I felt my pelvic bone and my rib cage again!
5) I’m gonna die a happy woman if I get to meet former First Lady Imelda Marcos.
6) You know, I actually thought about death too… I HATE IT when things like that pop in my head randomly. It feels as if I’m actually gonna die. I like to think of myself as immortal. Hello – I’ve said it many, many times. I want to be 75 and wear Oscar De La Renta.
It’s sooo creepy. It’s like, the more I think about death, the more I feel I’m gonna die soon. I wanted to bring it up on my blog before but the thought of me dying soon as a result of TALKING ABOUT DEATH itself bugs me.
Am I making sense? I hope so.
Shit, I think it was yesterday that I actually made a mental will of some sort. I don’t even wanna talk about it because of the fear that I might die soon.
Do you talk about wills and all? Probably not.
UGH! DELETE DELETE DELETE THIS THOUGHT OFF MY HEAD.
*PURGE* *PURGE* *PURGE*
I HAVE 5 HOURS TO SLEEP AND I’M GONNA SURVIVE IT! I’LL WAKE UP STUNNING AND FRESH.
Today’s gonna be one heck of a day – I gotta be up by 11AM cause I have a meeting with one of the biggest fashion magazines in the Philippines. I’m gonna meet their Editor in Chief as well as a couple of editors. I’m also meeting a creative team later this afternoon to discuss a project I’m brewing.
It’s 6:24AM and I’m gonna try to go to sleep… for the umpteenth time this morning.
On that note, check out this video of Kate Moss. This is exactly why I love her. I loved the part where she banged her head to the fan.
Email firstname.lastname@example.org or SMS +63-915-785-1492. Tell me I’m pretty. Tell me you love me.
Heck, if I managed to be the most beautiful creature Champs-Elysees had seen in years, I’m sure you can, too.
Sweet dreams and good night!
Lights, Camera, Talk Metro!
Fuck! I THINK I totally fucked up on my LIVE interview earlier. I was sooo friggin nervous I ended up looking like a complete trainwreck… at least that’s what I felt. Cut me some slack though; I have the flu – fever, sore throat, cough and colds.
It’s a miracle I didn’t shat on my pants earlier.
Anyway, I wish I had illegal substances earlier to calm me down. I seriously would’ve opted for whatever River Phoenix had before he died outside The Viper Room.
DOWN SYNDROME in Dior Homme. That’s all I gotta say.
If you got a dollar everytime you heard me sigh, cough, laugh, snort (like a coke whore), say "um" or "you know", you’d be a millionaire by now. Thank god I didn’t fart!
The only thing that was missing was a fuckin loincloth… at least I’d fit my "ooga wooga mooga" caveman TV persona.
Shit, even my voice sounded soooo gay.
My voice is friggin irritating.
I sounded like a stuffy-nosed Irish drag queen on crack cocaine.
Both my hosts, Philipp and Caroline (sp? I forgot her name), were complete PROFESSIONALS. The questions were spot-on, I enjoyed their humor and they did the very best to make me feel comfortable. They also tried to rescue me whenever I get tongue-tied.
It’s a great opportunity and a fantastic learning experience though. It’s not often that I get to be on TV.
Natural high galore… it was FUCKING EXHILIRATING and NERVE WRACKING at the same time.
I’ll be honest… I’m actually NOT disappointed with the outcome.
Why? Because I sorta had a clue that I’m gonna be shit on TV.
If I’m gonna be fine on LIVE TELEVISION, dontcha think I should’ve been on TV ages and ages ago?
Let’s face it… I’m not built for TV.
Save it for people with perfect teeth and those who use whitening products.
What the heck… at least my makeup was good… thanks to my friend Xeng Zulueta, make-up artist extraordinaire (Shu Uemura). She got interviewed as well.
Ooooh I love Shu Uemura.
XENG… GIMME A LIST OF THE PRODUCTS YA USED ONE ME INCLUDING THE COLORS ETC SO I CAN BUY THEM WHEN I GO TO RUSTAN’S!
A family member (gasp) recorded the thing and the 20-minute interview is permantly etched on my head.
Note to people who are gonna be interviewed on TV soon:
1) Take lots of drugs. Get yourself relaxed by injecting the same stuff they use for lethal injections.
2) Learn how to speak eloquently. I sounded like a caveman on TV. Always remember: OOGA WOOGA MOOGA.
2) Stop making noises. In fact, do not MOVE. The only thing thats important are your eyes, your mouth and your clothes. Nothing else. Be a fuckin mannequin in front of the camera.
3) DO NOT, UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES, INHALE or EXHALE throughout the interview. OXYGEN DEPRIVATION is the key for that perfect TV look.
4) Be straight to the point when giving out answers to your hosts. You have no time for mental block.
5) Xanax, Valium, Rivotril, Mogadon, Ambien, Vicodin. Swallow two of each and wash them down with a bottle of vodka.
Practice makes perfect. I know I’ll be better next time.
I HIGHLY DOUBT IF THERE WILL BE A NEXT TIME.
Now I know what those American Idol rejects feel…
Talk Metro. Every Saturdays at 8PM on ANC (ABS-CBN News Channel). It’s also available to viewers around the world via TFC (The Filipino Channel). Check with your local cable/satellite TV operator if it’s available in your area.
I’m not really a fan of this obese platinum blond aryan whore named PINK but her latest video brings home the bacon.
Visit this link to watch Pink’s latest video.
God I LOVE pop culture: the eternal quest to having the perfect, emaciated body via eating disorders and drug abuse, the ridiculous clothes, the trashiest accesories one can wear that’s worth several months of an average person’s salary, the belief that sex sells, the liposuctions, the cosmetic surgeries and the need to look plastic… I LOOOOOVE it all!
Maybe if I act like that, flippin my blond hair back, push up my bra like that…
I like the bit where she said….
Oh my god guys, I totally had like 300 calories that is soo not sexy.
*ugh* *vomit* *ugh*
I WILL BE SKINNNYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!
I love it. I really do.
Bryanboy Loves… and Random Cheesemax
#1 – Bryanboy loves people from Cataluna, Spain, Kent, OH, Trenton, NJ, San Angelo, TX, Chicopee, MA, Fall River, MA, Hastings On Hudson, NY, Shawford, NH, Kanagawa, Japan, Burwood, NSW Australia, Ostfold, Norway, Leuven, Vlaams-Brabant Belgium, Jaguh, Johor Malaysia, all my friends who live in Trollhattan, Vastra Gotaland Sweden and of course, my homies in Severna Park, MD. I love, love, love, love you all!
#2 – Bryanboy gives a huge shout out to all his lovers and friends from Melbourne, Australia, especially Suz. Thanks darling, you’re sooo sweet.
Nikki (from Queens, NY if I’m not mistaken) sent me a picture of his love. In spite the fact that he didn’t show his face and he couldn’t spell my name right, it’s the thought that counts and I love him regardless.
#3 – I’m sure you people know how I despise photoshop. Here are 3 exceptions though. The first image came from Paul, who, in celebration of Australia Day, thought me and Cate Blanchett have similar features while the other one is from Joella who lives in Sweden.
This threesome photo brought a smile to my face, courtesy of a guy from Offtopic. I love it.. though that pic of me looks as if I have a hairy chest.
#4 – I didn’t go to that Paul Van Dyk event yesterday night. I’m not going out tonight either. I’m still sick. Not even the liquid strepsils thing I bought in Moscow last year could save my sore throat.
#5 – I finally found a webhost that offers at least 1 Terabyte of data transfer. Whew!! Dreamhost.com, say hello to Bryanboy.
I think that’s all for now. My throat, head, neck and back hurts. I think I’m gonna give birth now.
As always, you know where to contact me. Email email@example.com or SMS +63-915-785-1492.
Brown is Beautiful
I spent a couple of hours tanning myself yesterday with cans of Lancaster self-tan that I got at Sephora in Paris. Here’s the result. I think I look good. No? Photographer Mark Nicdao certainly knows how to make people look good. Hahaha!
Cashmere t-shirt by Marni, shorts from ShoeMart (US$8!!!!!!!!!!), John Galliano tights, Balenciaga bag, Chanel dog tag necklace.
For the first time ever, I looked good under the influence of alcohol.
Trust me… based on some of my old pictures, THIS is far too good to be true. Hah!
I love my bangs!
And I definitely love my onion bulb nose. I don’t give a flying fuck even if you tell me that my hideous nose occupies a quarter of my face… I ain’t getting rhinoplasty done.
Not at least while I’m young.
I think I’m gonna play with my hair from now on. You know… discover new colors, play around with highlights, etc. I want to change my look every once in a while.
Birthday Wishes Galore
Big birthday wishes to Gino and Miguel. I went to this nice little bar yesterday night called "Luce" to celebrate their birthdays.
It was most definitely refreshing to have a relaxed Saturday night. No crowds, no pressure and definitely no stress. In fact, I got home before 3:30AM!
My friend even got her Moto pink razr… with her name engraved on the front of the phone! OMG. How cool is that?
Bryanboy Loves… and Random Cheesemax
#1 – Bryanboy loves people from Omaha, NE, Newton, MA, Uvalde, TX, Torp, Sweden, High Wycombe, UK, Pudu, Malaysia, Eufaula, AL, Phoenixville, PA, Bayern, Germany, St. Paul, MN, Skurup, Sweden, Huddinge, Sweden, Tbilisi, Georgia, Ryde, NSW Australia, Tampines New Town, Singapore, Liberec, Czech Republic and of course, my homies who live in Hangenmeilingen, Germany. Bryanboy loves yo all. Identify yourselves bitches by saying hello.
#2 – Happy birthday to AJ. It’s official – you are now a decade older than me.
#3 – Oooo. Even Valentino loves Bareback Mountain. Yes, Valentino as in Valentino. I need to see that film PRONTO!!!!!
Can someone please fedex me a cowboy of my own from rural america?
If you can’t fedex one, tell him to email me and send me a picture. Please be younger than 35. Email firstname.lastname@example.org
#4 – You gotta love what I picked up on an internet forum earlier. Hilarious!
#5 – Ooh la la! More Bryanboy poses from all over the world!
#6 – Awww. Bryanboy loves you too, Tony. :) I’ll go to Norrkoping the next time I go to Sweden!
Stay young, stay pretty, stay beautiful. For everything else, there’s botox.
You know where to contact me. Email email@example.com or SMS +63-915-785-1492 if you find a guy who will buy me dinner and feed me champagne.
This is a pen.
You HAVE to watch this interview. Fuckin hilarious! I’m surprised that this SEVENTEEN year old Japanese kid didn’t cream his pants when Dakota Fanning hugged him.
Full video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JfmHCBnT1aY
Although Dakota didn’t answer his questions well, I’m impressed with her professionalism and the way she handled the interview. How old is she anyway? 10? 12? Gosh.
Put myself in her shoes and I would’ve reached out for my handbag and give the poor kid a shitload of xanax.
It’s official: WEARING YOUR CLOTHES MORE THAN ONCE IS CHIC AGAIN!
This is great news for all the little people out there (such as myself) who cannot afford to wear things JUST once.
You can blame the House of Chanel (no less) for this crime against fashion.
The folks at 31 Rue Cambon are having a grand day for sending Reese Witherspoon a dress worn by Kirsten Dunst back in 2002.
That aside, Chanel also sent Natalie Portman a dress that Debra Messing wore in 2001 and Kirsten Dunst in Spiderman 2.
The only lucky bitch in this world is Kirsten Dunst — she gets to wear everything first before handing them out to everyone!
Email from St. Bernadette
I really don’t know what to say. You see, I receive far too many emails on a daily basis from people all over the world and this one bites the cake.
I don’t even know what to say/feel/react etc. Read it for yourself and tell me what YOU think.
Is it freaky? Is it too intense? Is it psychotic?
Don’t get me wrong, there’s something about psychotic people that I like. Perhaps I’m in need of therapy myself.
Read her email thoroughly. Perhaps she’s just playing around? For all I know, s/he could be a famous, wealthy and powerful person. I love it how I can get so delusional sometimes…
I’m quite intrigued on how s/he insulted me on the first paragraph of her email and then she opened up and then asked whether or not I’m a fake. CLASSIC!
Nevertheless, she did ask a serious question.
Am I the type who will use other people just to be somewhat happy?
After serious thought (oh yes), I’d say no.
1. I’ve dedicated almost my entire life in making MYSELF happy without the aid (or with minimal aid) of anyone else.
2. Perhaps that’s one of the reasons why I’m still single; I’m not proactive or desperate enough to have someone to make me happy.
3. In most cases, I feel soo much better whenever I’m alone vs with a group of people.
4. I sought acceptance from others for several years, thinking that would make me happy… only to realize it’s not the acceptance of others that I need… it’s acceptance of MYSELF.
Now I won’t be a hypocrite and say I LITERALLY don’t need anyone to make me happy.
I do want people to be there in the event that I’m sad or when I need support. In fact, we all need some sort of a support system in place.
To cut this drama short, I think there’s only one person in the world that can truly make you happy.
And that person is YOURSELF.
I learned about this when many, many people failed me in the past.
Bryanboy Loves… and Random Cheesemax
#1 – Bryanboy loves people from Den Engelsen Hoek, Antwerp Belgium, Trber-Siedlug, Austria, Ryde, NSW Australia, Koppenbach, Germany, Flushing, NY, Rome, Italy, Procoio Nuvo, Italy, Kista, Sweden, Harwood Heights, IL, Boston, MA, Tarragindi, QLD Australia, Kugayama, Tokyo Japan. Identify yourselves bitches and say hello.
#2 – Long live Kate Moss. Buy the latest issue of W and see the goddess bask in her glory.
Someone feed her cocaine though; she’s gotten fat all over the years (I don’t blame here) no wonder she’s befriending La Lohan.
#3 – Bryanboy shouts out to all the beautiful people at Makeup Alley. I love each and every one of you.
#4 – I don’t give a shit whether or not my website takes forever to load. IT’S A SIGN FOR YOU TO DITCH YOUR NASTY DIAL-UP CONNECTION AND GET SOMETHING FASTER.
Besides, my site is worth the wait. Say yes ya fuckin twats.
#5 – Holy mother of god. Miuccia Prada is notorious for ONLY sending out aryans on the catwalk. I’m quite shocked that she sent this guy on the Miu Miu runway. I WANT those shoes. I’m GONNA have those shoes.
#6 – Next week is haute couture week. I’m sure Mouna Al-ayoub and those billion dollar taitais are en-route to Paris. Lucky mother fuckers. I can only dream to be just like them one day… oh well. Poor Nan… I still can’t get over the fact that Mrs. Kempner is now six feet under the ground.
#7 – Why can’t I find a god damn boyfriend? I know I’m not the best looking person out there but surely there must be someone half-decent in this country who likes me.
#8 – How to Lose a Pound in 10 Days. Click here.
#9 – I just found out that an anorexic’s best friend is a can of good ol diet coke. Apparently if you drink a can of this in the morning, you won’t feel hungry for the rest of the day.
#10 – This is one of the best emails that I received in the longest time, especially on the bit where Brad said "Of course, you’ve heard it a zillion times and you probably print these emails out and use them to wipe your ass but I just had to make it a zillion and one."
Err, Brad, um, err… I actually print these emails and eat them. Sometimes I sprinkle salt and pepper for taste. I can seriously survive on these cause they’re fat free.
Thanks sweetie for the lovely and kind words.
Dates with gorgeous people?
BRAD OH BRAD.
I HOPE YOU’RE NOT HALLUCINATING!!!!!!!!!
YOU’D DIE OF SHOCK IF YOU KNEW HOW HARD AND LONELY MY LIFE IS IN THE THIRD WORLD.
You see, NOBODY and I mean NOBODY likes anyone who is a flamer, brown and have a nasty nose… like me.
A lot of people in this country are sooo obsessed in people who:
a) looks half chinese
b) looks half spanish
c) looks half something something
d) looks like a pale mother fucker with all the skin-whitening crap they put on their faces and bodies.
One of my acquaintances said the best thing ever earlier in the week: PEASANTS NEED LOVING, TOO!
This is why I love travelling. Whenever I set foot on a foreign land, I’m queen of the nile… little miss l’exotique at its best.
A shitload of wrinkly, sex-starved people visit this country for sex tourism.
I on the other hand, GET OUT OF THE COUNTRY just to keep my sex life updated.
Seriously though… you won’t recognize me if you see me walk around the streets of the third world… i look like miss plain jane!
Here’s a dare: get me a decent date around here and I’ll give you a kiss on the cheek, a dollar and an oreo cookie.
And be sure sure he’ll pay for dinner.
More updates later.
Y’all know where to contact me. Email firstname.lastname@example.org or SMS +63-915-785-1492.
I love you all, as always.
My trip to the grand dame powerhouse of all things media – TV and Publishing was FUN! FUN! FUN! Who whould have thought I’d get a nice, little tour of what goes on behind the scenes where the money factory is? Alright, the only thing that was missing was a trip to a radio station.
Let’s play pictionary shall we?
First off… I met this guy. He’s the son of a really famous actress who is now a politician. His name is Lucky if I’m not mistaken… yes mother fuckers… he’s that LUCKY for having Vilma Santos as his mom.
I *KNOW* what you’re thinking.
We went to a studio where a noon-time show is being broadcasted live. THEY WERE HANDING OUT MOTORCYCLES FOR FREE! It was soooo surreal!!!!! I stood backstage and I saw 2 motorcycles right pass right in front of me.
And then we went to another studio and got to see all these TV things…
And of course, I had to get my picture taken with this guy. He’s a famous actor here in the third world.
HANNAH MATRONIC EAT YOUR HEART OUT!
Ugh. I’m cringeing with shock, awe and horreur with all these cheeky fun. I LOVE IT though. HAHAHAHA!
Anyway, I saw him in flesh and he was running off somewhere.
Perhaps the highlight of my tour was the fact that I FINALLY got to see what a publishing house looks like. If you only knew how monumental it was for me.
(One thing I forgot to ask is why on earth there aren’t there any half-naked models going in for go-sees?)
You see, back when I was a child, I wanted to be a doctor. Then I realized I didn’t want to operate on all things lifeless (i.e. my dolls).
When my imaginary friends came into the picture (i.e. the SAME dolls), I decided I wanted to be a teacher. I talked to my stuffed toys all day and all night as if they were my students.
My parents bought me everything a teacher had; a blackboard, chalk, eraser, lesson plans and class record books where you write down your students’ grades.
I was 12 years old. Oh the memories.
When that inevitable thing called "ageing" hit me, I thought the perfect job would be that of working in a magazine.
You know… something really piss easy, like being an accessories editor for a fashion magazine… like yYou get your own page and all you do is pick 10 good accessories and bam, effortless work.
It’s only until last year that the truth came out.
Working for a publication will suck the blood out of your body and drain you like a whore.
I now have soo much respect for people who work in magazines/newspapers.
Nuclear Wintour is another story though.
Lindsay Lohan for Vanity Fair
I think my interview with one of the top magazines went well. I guess I’ve always been tongue-in-cheek and I’m just not used to be asked serious, in-depth questions. Today was quite different. Not even aluminum hydrochloride saved my palms from sweating. I did, however, answer in the best way that I possibly can (hey… practice makes perfect).
I’ve been interviewed several times in the past (mostly newspapers) and luckily, everything that has been published about me were 100and20% positive with no regrets whatsoever.
I have to admit I’m kinda feeling a little worried. But hey, it’s all about trust.
I sent a text message to some of my friends informing them where my new domicile would be in the event my self-depreciating mouth got me into trouble.
Especially the part where I said something about who I think is cute in local showbiz. Oh god. How embarassing.
1. I shared more than what I should’ve shared about my crappy childhood. It’s true though. I didn’t have true friends. Most of my classmates were two-faced homophobic bitches and my teachers came from hell. I sincerely hope they turn into fucking ashes.
Wait… they will!
2. I wasn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer. Never have, never will. And I will never be ashamed that all I got was Bs and Cs in school… add the Ds to conduct and religion.
3. I’m certified member of Home Hermits Anonymous; I usually spend 16 hours a day in front of the computer and I’m not fucking ashamed about it.
4. Contrary to what people think, I only go out once or twice a week and most of my "real friends" are limited to that of the healthcare sector – my manicure and pedicure gal, my aesthetician (Belinda), my hair stylist (Dennis of Provost) and my doctor (Dr. Andrew).
5. I’m really a loner.
6. My name is Bryanboy and I propel anorexia.
7. I’m kidding. It didn’t go THAT far.
8. You’d be shocked as to WHO I said the one person (in the Philippines) I’d love to meet.
Don’t worry… I’ll scan the interview when it goes out.
Bryanboy Loves… and Random Cheesemax
#1 – Bryanboy loves people from Livorno, Toscana Italy, Vienna, Austria, Kisa, Sweden, Gilles Plains, SA Australia, Forsby, Sweden, Buskerud, Norway, Jakarta, Indonesia, Auckland, New Zealand, Temecula, CA, Richmond, TAS Australia, Seattle, WA and of course, people from Annandale, NSW Australia. Identify yourselves bitches and say hello!
#2 – Many, many, many thanks to my hosts at ABS-CBN Publishing for the warm reception… and the scrumptious lunch!!!!
#3 – You know where to send imagery of your love. Email email@example.com. No photoshopped photos please!
#4 – Why is it soo damn hard to find SIZE 14 men’s shirts in Manila? The smallest size Paul Smith have is SIZE 15 or 15.5!!!! There’s a market for slim people out here you know? I know I’m starting to look like a malnourished African child complete with a bulging tummy and thin arms but hey, I need shirts too! If you know of a place where I can buy customized/tailored button down shirts (in Manila), please let me know. DON’T TELL ME I HAVE TO GET MYSELF FATTER JUST TO BUY MEN’S CLOTHES CAUSE I’D RATHER FLUSH MYSELF DOWN THE TOILET THAN CHANGE MY BODY WITH THE AID OF ANYTHING EDIBLE.
#5 – This photo screams LOVE. LOVE, LOVE and LOVE!
#6 – Yes mother fuckers. Even people from Hamburg, ARKANSAS (HOW FAR IS IT FROM ALTUS????) love my pose. Thanks Ginger. You all look absolutely stunning and gorgeous. I love you all!
And if that person wearing a red jacket is a guy, please tell him that I’d rather see him naked.
Gorgeous. Absolutely gorgeous!
As always, you know how to get a hold of me. Keep those emails and text messages coming. Bryanboy@gmail.com or SMS +63-915-785-1492.
Stay young, stay pretty and stay beautiful. Don’t do anything that I won’t do.
I went to a friend’s birthday party at Cuisine (Embassy) and man, I drank like a proper alcoholic. The booze overflowed like crazy – I probably had 15 or so drinks and consumed no less than 3 packs of cigarettes..
I got up at 4PM today with a massive hangover… as if that’s something new.
Happy birthday Tim!
Jenni and the birthday boy Tim doing the infamous Bryanboy pose.
It was a night of fun, laughter and giggles, thanks to the balloons, clowns, carnival and circus-like characters (literally, not figuratively… what were you thinking? guilty as charged? hah) that peppered through the entire night.
I toned it down a notch yesterday… wore a simple polo tee, some tight jeans, Chanel bag and boots. I have never seen far too many beautiful people in my life… for the first time ever, I didn’t feel overdressed. Heh!
I met a shitload of people yesterday, it’s amazing.
Tomorrow’s gonna be a big day for me. I’m going to one of the country’s biggest media and publishing powerhouse to meet people… and I’m feeling restless.
1. I have nothing to wear. Appropriately.
2. I’m meeting new people I’ve never met before. How many times have I ranted on my blog I have absolutely NO social skills whatsoever?
3. I’ll most likely be the focus of their attention.
4. I’ll be talking about myself. You know how I get squirmy talking about myself in public.
Just cross your fingers and wish me luck. I think I’ll go casual and wear my Dior Homme jacket and jeans.
Hopefully it will save me from publicly humiliating myself… and if I did make a fool of myself, at least I wore Dior Homme.
Bryanboy Loves… and Random Cheesemax
#1 – Bryanboy loves people from Nagano, Japan, Ashfield, NSW Australia, Vancouver, BC Canada, Watson’s Bay, NSW Australia, Bangkok, Thailand, Stamford, CA, Tampines Estate, Singapore, Tagene, Sweden, Tacoma, WA, Mountain View, CA and of course, people from Osaka, Japan. Bryanboy loves y’all… identify yourselves bitches and say hello!
#2 – Paranoia won’t get you anywhere. It’s all in the head. You’ve gone through a lot anyway and I’m sure it’s nothing new to you. Peanuts, anyone? Saucer of non-fat, pasteurised (and sour… not bitter) milk please.
#3 - Fuck Visine for red eyes. Anyone know of a good thing that I can put on my eyes so they won’t turn red every time I binge on booze?
I’m late for my facial. I’ll update later.
You know how to get hold of me. Email firstname.lastname@example.org or SMS +63-915-785-1492.
Be beautiful, stay pretty and keep up with the vanity. Sex might sell but being gorgeous (or trying to be gorgeous) is much, much better.