- Fashion Blogger
9:13 pm

Whether you like it or not, this country is fabulous. Bryanboy reigns supreme.

26/02/2006, Social Awareness

Bryanboy reigns supreme.

This breaking news is brought to you by

You gotta love all that drama going on at one of the key forts in the Philippines. There’s a ton of hoola baloo involving the Marines… same old political-related drama etc.

I’m not even gonna bother with the specifics. Go to CNN, BBC or Google News.

One of my assistants is currently on the field taking photos…


For god’s sake just stop all this drama and get on with your lives.

This country is beautiful.

This country is fabulous.

This country is great.

Long live third world prostitution.

Long live the land of ugly, fat hookers with cellulite.


Long live mixed raced babies as a result of prostitution and miscegenation. Mixed-raced babies are the Chanel of babies.

Long live the land of little brown fuck machines.

Long live the land of the brown, l’exotique and the natives.


Long live


I love you all.

But I love Chanel more.


I’d love to hear what you think. Email or SMS +63-195-785-1492.


PS. Discuss this blog post here.


11:58 pm

Envy… Envy Me, Beautiful Day, This is Summer

25/02/2006, Current Affairs, Fan Art, Fashion, Loneliness, Love Life, Manila, Random Cheesemax

Envy… Envy Me


Saucer of Gucci Envy please.


I’ve somewhat lost interest in blogging over the past few days because of this big, bad world I live in. There are many, many cold-blooded and resentful people out there who have nothing to do in their lives. Their bloodstreams overflow with venomous bile hence the need to spread hatred to others.

If you’re gonna talk shit about me or other people, please…. for good times’ sake, be careful (and selective) as to who you talk to.  You’re only making yourself look worse (you already LOOK bad darling) when your bitter messages reach the person you are talking about.

All I can say is… envy breeds malice, spite and ill-will. Why can’t these people get over with their own personal failures and insecurities?

Let me share some quotable quotes. They came from THIS article published by The Catholic News… don’t ask my why I quoted them in the first place. I don’t know what to tell you other than the fact that I’m satan’s shopaholic spawn. Shopping is my religion and the mall is my temple.

"Envy eats away at the insides of its victim, and from its self-torment malice ensues. Envy is particularly adept at noticing and pointing out the faults of others. What I cannot have, I will besmirch or bring low. Or I will say it’s not worth having in the first place."

"A levelling instinct dominates envy. It grows naturally, as Aristotle observed, in relationships between equals. If we’re all equal, why should you stand out? Envy is the besetting sin of all professional groups, a fact most noticeable in the faculties of universities, but not only there, of course. You find it also in prayer groups. The envious prayer group member finds it extremely galling that other people can pray “better” than he or she can. "

"Envy confuses being equal with being identical. We all have equal rights before the law, and equal access to God. But life is otherwise a field of unequal distribution. No matter where I look there’s someone who has something I don’t have, or something I have but in a finer way, or simply more of what I have. Comparison only condemns me to ceaseless torment. "

"The antidote to envy, on the other hand, is growth in self-love and self-acceptance. The envious are not grateful for, or happy in, what they are or what they have. They feel that they are nothing and their nothingness is exposed by the success, achievement, or good fortune of others."

Click HERE to read the full article.

On that profound note, keep in mind that the ultimate form of revenge to these bottom feeders is success.

Gucci Envy ME, anyone?


This blog entry goes out to people who deserve to read this message.

Besides, only the guilty knows what on earth I am talking about.

Set this is stone mother fuckers: don’t drag me into your acerbic and foul lives. Live… and let live. I **WILL** be fucking successful regardless of whatever it is that I want to achieve in life.

I know bad grass NEVER die so… fuck you. Fuck EACH and EVERY one of you.

Moving on…

Beautiful Friday

I got up early yesterday morning cause I have a "Beauty Day" date with a friend. The first thing my mom told me was for me to stay indoors unless I wanna die.

You must have heard all the politics-related insanity going on in the capital of the land of the brown, l’exotique and the natives.

Riots or no riots, war or peace, heck, I don’t give a flying fuck if all hell breaks loose… I was fucking determined to get my hair done…

… and that’s exactly what I ended up doing.

I met up with friends at H-Salon in Rustan’s Makati to get a color and highlights. I LOVE that place. The service is good and Henry is a doll! I’m gonna go there for color from now on for color.


I thought I’d get my eyebrows done while waiting for their turns to finish their treatments.


Man, it was TORTURE! I wailed like a pregnant bitch who is about to give birth. I have a feeling it was my voice that stopped the riots yesterday.

Thank you Henry Calayag! I LOOOOOVE the color of my locks. I got a ton of comments last night how my hair is sooo nice. The pictures don’t do it justice.

This third world hell hole of a country can burn in hell for all I care but at least I’ve got FABULOUS hair!


Don’t get me wrong… I love my country…. but I have to love my own ass first.

Seriously… some of these people should just stop all these riot/protest nuisance. It was effective for the first 2 times… but you can’t recreate the past. You’re scaring the tourists away and you’re destroying the economy, including my livelihood. Being the local dollar earning prostitute that I am, how the fuck am I supposed to get well-hung clients from far flung places?

Ugh. I don’t even wanna talk anything that has to do with politics. It’s a touchy subject and the only time I’ll talk about it in great detail is when I’m holding public office or when someone with ill-gotten wealth adopts me.

Anyway, yesterday was productive. I accomplished a lot of things. I bought 2 delectable clutch bags. One of them is real snakeskin and the other one is faux croc. I LOVE the way you open/close the bag. These lovely confections will drive a bag thief insane – it took me several hours to figure it out.


Yves Saint Laurent bag, Dolce & Gabbana eel skin and kid fur clutch, Mulberry bag, DSquared shirt, Tim Camino t-shirt.


I love my new Mulberry bag. It looks a bit weird in photos but it’s lovely in person. The color is astounding.

Yes mother fuckers, I’ll update later today. PROMISE!


Mulberry bag, Hermes scarf, Goyard wallet, Goyard agenda, Alain Mikli eyeglasses, Gucci sunglasses, Shu Uemura face powder, Yves Saint Laurent concealer, pens, ipod, lighter, cash, passport.

I ***LOVE*** my Mulberry bag!!!!

It was a good day overall. There must be something in the air. Heck, we even went to the cinema to watch Big Momma. Celine and I packed far too many calories yesterday. We had 3 meals yesterday… in a span of 8 or so hours… oh, and I had 3 enormous scoops of Haagez Dazs ice cream while watching the movie. 

We all went home after the film. I was exhausted at the end of the day. 

And a little depressed.

7 of us went to the movie theatre. A gay couple, 2 straight couples and good ol singleton me.



This is Summer

Even my 2 younger sisters have boyfriends even if I don’t like them that much. Fuck love and fuck being in a relationship.

I have to rely on myself to get love. It’s only ME who loves ME, MYSELF and I.

Until I find someone who will love me, I’m gonna love myself by pouring out my frustrations by shopping.

This is summer right here. Well.. part of it. LOL.

Save the 5-inch Chloe shoe/sandal and Versace clip-on earrings for a rainy day. I wanna to dress up like a whore once or twice this year.

Dior Homme (can’t remember) tuxedo vest, Ann Demeulemeester tank, Paul Smith shoes, Dolce & Gabbana jacket, Dolce & Gabbana t-shirt, Dolce & Gabbana polo shirt, David Szeto pearl necklace, Fruit cowboy boots, Chloe shoes, Versace clip-on earings, Marc Jacobs bag, Dior sunglasses, Tom Ford sunglasses, Marc Jacobs sunglasses, Zodiac chrono watch, Dior Homme tie, Versace pin, Louis Vuittn bag, Strenesse caftan, Ike watch, Etro sneakers, Eme Jota gazelle fur bag, Oscar de la Renta faux croc portfolio clutch, Nancy Gonzalez python minaudiere.

Bryanboy Loves… and Random Cheesemax

#1 – Bryanboy loves people from Ca Quarta, Veneto Italy, Cambridge, UK, Cagayan De Oro, Philippines, Chicago, IL, Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, Long Beach, CA, Braddock, PA, Mount Laurel, NJ, Hawthorn, VIC Australia, Honolulu, HI, Easthampton, MA, Kilmacanoge, Wicklow Ireland, Cote D’Azur, France, Kanagawa, Japan, Toulouse, France, Roslyn, NY and of course, people from Liberec, Czech Republic. I love each and every one of you mother fuckers. Email me and tell me you wanna fuck my fanny.

#2 – Watch out for Podcast #4 coming out in 6 hours!

#3 – See no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil. YOU ARE EVIL.

#4 – Geography is no boundary when it comes to unconditional love and the infamous Bryanboy pose. Here’s one from good ol New York.


#5 – Be sure to go to my Discussion Forums. Say hi, don’t be shy.

I’ve had it. I’m gonna work on my podcast and post here in a bit.

More updates later.

Talk to me you maggots! Email or SMS +63-915-785-1492.

It’s almost midnight here and I’ll be awake for the next 6 hours.

I love each and every one of you. Someone please buy me a Boucheron watch!


PS. Discuss this blog post here.

11:38 pm

Adoption Notice, Bryan’s Crossdressing Night, Third World Tai Tai, Bryanboy: Lady of Third World Leisure

19/02/2006, Fashion

Adoption Notice

Hannah Matronic: (2/14/2006 10:42:17 PM): ill-gotten wealth is hot
Bryanboy: (2/14/2006 10:42:19 PM): I KNOW


I was originally gonna post an in-depth entry about my Adoption Notice out to the public. I wanted to be adopted by someone with ill-gotten wealth but I decided to back out in the last minute because it suddenly occured to me that nobody will adopt anyone over the age of 12, let alone adopt anyone twice that age.

I posted my adoption poster though for posterity’s sake. Don’t get me wrong… ill-gotten wealth is cool… shit, wealth, regardless whether it’s ill-gotten or legitimate, is fabulous.

I think the best option at this point is to dig platinum through traditional methods. Being self-employed (aka prostituion) is one thing, selling your soul to satan is another.

I like the former. Screw dignity at this point. I’m gonna be a prostitute one day. The idea of having lots of sex and getting paid for it is fucking awesome.

Friday_002_1Third World Tai Tai

"Tai Tais, a Cantonese term, are wives or mistresses of wealthy businessmen, the occidental equivalent being ladies-of-leisure or, to put it less chivalrously, trophy wives. In the Asian context, they are a relatively recent phenomenon, arising from the East Asian economic resurgence of the past half-century, though they could trace their ancestry to the concubine traditions of Chinese history. Tai Tais are famed for their exquisitely groomed and attired persons made possible by their spouses’ wealth. They often become fashion icons if they possess the requisite qualifications of taste, a model to be followed by other Tai Tais and Tai Tai wannabes. Being of widely disparate backgrounds, often there is little else other than their sartorial splendor to immediately distinguish them as a class. So it is very understandable that they seek to mould their identities on their consumption."
Karunanethy Kalaivani

I don’t care what you think but it’s been quite awhile since I dabbled around my delusions of gradeur.

What was I thinking yesterday when I said I wanted to have a career in the healthcare industry? I must have been on a morphine drip to have such ludicrous thought.

Oh fuck it. Friday_003_1After Friday’s frolics, I decided I don’t want to be famous. Heck, I even don’t want to be a star! And I definitely don’t want a career as a standup doyenne of comedy either.

I know it would take more than a ton of skin-whitening products, a facial reconstruction (i.e. eyelash removal and eyelid folding) and a last name with no more than 1 vowel… but yeah….

I think I want to become a TAI TAI when I grow up!!!!!

I’m envisioning mammoth National Portrait Gallery-worthy murals of me, myself and I, followed by a nice gold plaque that says "BRYANBOY: LADY OF THIRD WORLD LEISURE". Those murals will travel all over the world, from the Hermitage to the Louvre, Smithsonian to the MET.

Nina Wang – Asia’s Richest Woman
Flamboyant widow Nina Wang has walked out of Hong Kong’s top court $4 billion richer after beating allegations that she had forged her late husband’s will in her favour. Mrs Wang, known for a girlish style of dressing that includes miniskirts, leather tops, and pigtails, will move to have the criminal charges against her quashed.Sydney Morning Herald

Generations upon generations of girls and faggots worldwide will gasp and revel in my glory.

Hoardes of tourists will pose in front of those murals, emulating their best renditions of the infamous Bryanboy pose.

Fabulous eh? Don’t get pissed at me cause I thought of it first.

Bah! I can’t even get a fucking billboard on one of Manila’s main thoroughfares let alone have my own mural.

Enough fantasy… for now.

Bryan’s Crossdressing Night

Bryanman and the birthday boy, DJ

Nothing is more fun in this world than bending the rules of gender.

I went to a friend’s birthday party yesterday at L’Opera for a couple of drinks, wearing an outfit Ellen Degeneres would be proud of. The theme of the party was moda mafia black.

I got many many comments from people that I looked good on my outfit, it was quite… errr… different. I kinda disagree with them though after seeing my pictues. Nevertheless, I’m flattered and I love it! I think I’m gonna dress up like a boy man more often.


I’m sooo glad I dressed for the ocassion… I didn’t even know everyone was dressed to the nines until I arrived…. and to think, I was planning to show up wearing a black tank top and jeans!!! HAHAHAHA.






Shit, do I really have to dress like a butch lesbian these days to get attention? An acquaintance even told me I looked better as a man than a woman. Oi vey!

It really was great night out!!!! I had sooo much fun.

After L’Opera, I went to a little gay night house party thing in the city, followed by a stint at La Embajada.

OMG. the most embarassing thing EVER happened to me. I totally felt like Stavros-Niarchos-Denied-At-Pure-Nightclub-Las-Vegas yesterday night when I went to the ONLY club I go to in this city.

You see, my usual haunt recently changed some of its staff. Gone are my favourite waiters etc. Even Aslie, my favourite resident door bitch, who let us skip the lines, wasn’t there. They had this new girl in place guarding the clipboard.

When I walked in, the lady asked for my name.

Naturally, I gave it to her.

Then she told me I wasn’t on the list.

Say what now?

I didn’t wanna put on an argument so I told her "ok, thanks" then off I went outdoors.


Ooooooooh it was sooo embarassing.

List? What list? I never get into those lists cause I always, always, always, ALWAYS get in!!!

Luckily, a friend just arrived so all 3 of us went together.

The manager was there when we went back into the club. He apologised profusely… the clipboard girl was new.

We went to the vip area and stayed for no longer than 5 seconds. It was packed with so many people, stepping on someone’s non-vip shoes was inevitable. I’m surprised nobody died from oxygen deprivation.

Apres-club, we drank the entire night away at the restaurant downstairs till dawn.

I guess it really proves that I’m a mortal too, contrary to what some of you think.

I always find it funny and amusing when people ask me if I’m "THE FAMOUS BRYANBOY" whenever I go out.

I’m not famous, I swear!

I’m just someone with a foul mouth and a voice that wants to be heard.

Heck, I don’t even wanna be famous. Fame can lick my scrotum and my ass crack.

If I were famous, the central bank of the third world will have my name and my face printed on US$20 bills. I’d have my own statue, my own monument and people all over the world will worship me like god.

Bryanboy: Lady of Third World Leisure

I left my dad’s house at 9:30AM on Friday morning with no sleep from the previous night whatsoever, for a business meeting. I went to my favourite cafe and ordered steak and eggs.


I really can’t wait for my projects to blast off. I’m soo excited!! I just have to make sure I give myself a good kick in the ass to get on with them instead of procrastinating around.

The meeting finished at around 12:30 and I was quite tired. I thought I’d do a little bit of window shopping then go home to catch up with my sleep.

A couple of minutes after I left, I got a text message from a lovely madwoman aka Mrs. T, telling me she’s at the cafe. I love her… she’s soo nice… and her handbag addiction is WORSE than mine! HAHAHAHHAHA!


You see, my handbag illness is acute. I always think it’s gonna go away on its own. If you think mine is bad, hers is CHRONIC! She even gave me nightmares!!! Not once, but many, many, many times. I’m NOT even gonna bother with specifics. SHE KNOWS WHAT HER WRONGDOING IS AND SHE BETTER BE GUILTY OF HER SINS!!!!!!



Before she got to the cafe, I told my friends and the ladies I met for brunch, that I was planning to buy a classic LV mono speedy later in the afternoon.

Imagine the shock, awe and horror I had when I went to Mrs. T’s table… she was decked out in taitai-NIC barbie-goes-preppy chic: pique polo, jeans, the SHOES, the long hair, and of course, that damn LV mono speedy!

(For some strange reason, using the title "Mrs." feels inappropriate to use because she’s sooo youthful, lithe, thin… don’t forget the VERY long and VERY straight hair… whenever I hear "Mrs., I automatically get mental images of babboon-like matrons stampeding their way to my aesthetician’s office for botox shots.)

I joined her and chit-chatted for a couple of minutes.

Apres-lunch, the two of us hopped (not sHOPPED), from one shop to another, in the halls of Greenbelt 4 like rabid rabbits. We were completely out of it!!!!!

First stop: Louis Vuitton

Photo credit: Tresor Makati

The perforated speedy is not as bad as you think. It does look like a mini sac chien… I guess it’s part of the appeal. Nevertheless, I think it’s a cute bag… even the outside pockets are lined in suede!

Isn’t she lovely?

The only time we hushed is when I asked her whether some woman’s Chanel bag was genuine or not… WITHOUT the woman hearing me. I didn’t know whether she was a woman or a teenage girl. She looked like one of those little girls that run for beauty pageants acting like a 40 year old except she was sluttier and she had what looked like a Chanel white cambon (with python) bucket bag. The guy she’s with was rather scary…. 6 foot tall, backwards cap, basketball playAHesque outfit. The type that would punch you in the face in the event of eye contact.

Man, I really need to wear my eyeglasses and I should stop criticizing how other people look when I look like a prostitute myself.


Next Stop: Mix Boutique


I’m still pissed (and I have no one else to blame other my familia de horreur) for missing Celine’s Loungeri Lux line last weekend.

I bought a black tee (size LARGE!!!!!) and Mrs. T helped me pick my ribbons.


The tees run really really small, fyi.

After Loungeri Lux, Mrs T. and moi dropped by at Burberry, Bottega Veneta and Bvlgari.

What can I say… even Blvgari loves me.



Photo credit: Tresor Makati

The bottega bag above is sooo supple and soft.

I had a blast with Mrs. T. That woman is a hoot!!!!!!

Overall I had a nice weekend.

I’ll create another podcast in a couple of hours so if you’re reading this, fire away with your questions!

As always, check out my forums,

Big hugs and kisses from the fabulous turd world.

I love you all!

Email or SMS +63-915-785-1492.


PS. Discuss this blog post here.

12:08 am

Welcome Back to Civilization. My Maid Deserves A Raise.

17/02/2006, Fan Art, Fans, Fashion, Press Coverage

Welcome Back to Civilization.

Welcome to blogging. Welcome back to civilization. I’m so glad I’m kinda over my podcast addiction.

Don’t worry though. I promise I’ll do a podcast once a week… perhaps twice or thrice a week. Depends. ;)

My psychic, also known as Miss Cleo, who, btw, got charged with deceptive advertising, billing and collection practices by the US Federal Trade Commission back in 2002, was right all along; my prince charming didn’t call me on Valentine’s Day. No dinner date, no expensive champagne… and definitely no tiny red box with a big shiny gift from Cartier.

I should have known better.

It’s been a quiet week at the House of Bryanboy.

My uncle had a heart attack on Saturday afternoon and my familia de horreur told me to stay at home as they take care of things at the hospital. I’m glad my uncle survived and he’s waiting for surgery. I think he’s gonna have either a bypass or angioplasty… I’m not sure. He’s currently confined at the hospital and he’s doing ok.

A friend launched a new collection from her line, Loungeri Lux last Saturday. I promised her I’ll go to the party but my parentals told me that I should stay indoors in case we need to go to the hospital. I missed the first launch and now I missed it again. I’m almost 24 years old for god’s sake!

The oh-so-lovely Celine and her gold python Fendi Spy bag

I ended up not visiting him at the hospital so another weekend gone down the drain. Call me insensitive but it was my aunt’s fauly in the first place why my uncle had a heart attack.

Enough drama of my clammy clan. I don’t wanna talk about it. I wanna talk about beautiful things and beautiful people.

Photo credit: The Fash Pack

I stole both photos from The Fash Pack’s blog (sorry!!).

If you live in the land of the brown, l’exotique and the natives, pop by Mix at Greenbelt 3. JUST PROMISE ME THAT YOU’RE ***NOT*** GONNA TOUCH THE LARGE SIZES! I’ll GET THEM IN 3 COLORS. BLACK, WHITE AND PINK. These tees run a little small and a big, obese bitch like me need every square inch possible.

My Maid Deserves A Raise.

My oh so loyal servant, also known as Miss Eunice, deserves a raise. Who knew the bitch (that I truly love) had talent when it comes to photography?


I love her. I really do. That bitch mastered the art of namedropping and fashion faster than the speed of light. All of these conversations were done in our local language, fyi.

Me: "Have you seen my white belt with the yellow and pink stripes?"
Eunice: "No, is it the one from Delia’s?"
Me: "No… it’s Chanel because it says Chanel all over it!"
Me: "Look at that woman’s Chanel bag. Isn’t it nice?"
Eunice: "The bag is a fake cause the quilts aren’t aligned/the same"
(Peke po yung bag kasi iyung maliliit na squares hindi po pantay pantay)
Me: "Oh."

Eunice: "Bryan, did you drink some cooking oil again? Your lip gloss is all over the place"

(Kuya, uminom nanaman po ba kayo ng mantika? Lagpas lagpas po yung lip gloss niyo)

When I got up yesterday afternoon, the first thing that she told me was "I can’t believe Paris Hilton is gonna be Mother Theresa in the movie. She looks like barbie doll. Isn’t Mother Theresa an Indian?"

(Kuya, hindi ako makapaniwala kinuha nila si Paris Hilton para maging Mother Thera. Para siyang Barbie Doll. Eh diba si Mother Theresa boombay?)



On Wednesday evening, I thought it would be nice to pay my uncle a visit. I was bored at that time so I asked Eunice to take photos of me; I haven’t camwhored in a long time.

I’m telling you… I think I should start a career in becomin a cleaning lady.

If I can’t get a guy being Le Superstar Fabuleux, maybe I can get a guy by being a hospital cleaning lady?


Shit, if that bitch Jennifer Lopez can steal Dolce & Gabbana outfits from hotel guests or wear Harry Winston diamonds on a date to the Met, I’m sure I can do better.



The person I’ll flirt with at the hospital are the ones on the Intensive Care Unit… the ones who have a one-way ticket to the morgue… the ones who are about to face death as soon as I touch their genitals… Before I do that though, I wanna make sure their last will and testament is signed, leaving all their assets and wealth to me.

God, imagine how lucky those nurses are.


I’m sure somewhere in the world, there’s a filthy wealthy hospital patient fed up of dealing with their heirs so they leave everything to the ones who wipe their shitty arses off the shitting pan.




Looking at a picture from my past, I think I was meant to work in the cleaning lady/healthcare industry. Here’s a picture of me about 5 or 6 years ago at Amanpulo. That’s table napkin on my head!



I have such a huge respect for nurses. Who else will take care of us even if we’re sick, even if they’re getting paid? I have to admit that nurses in this country are sooo underpaid, no wonder they’re emigrating by the flock to other countries, just like migratory birds.

Anyway, I respect them soo much when I got hospitalized, I had to boo them away in order for me to take a poop. I don’t care even if I was on Intensive Care. I don’t want a nurse to be wiping my ass with baby wipes; I want to do it myself!

Bryanboy Loves…. and Random Cheesemax

#1 – Bryanboy loves people from Doha, Qatar, Tianjin, China, Tampa, FL, Quinta Da Verdelha, Lisboa Portugal, Hanoi, Vietnam, Oslo, Norway, Kortemark, Belgium, Perth, WA Australia, London, ONT Canada, Mount Sibley, QLD Australia, Helsinki, Finland, Eschborn, Hessen Germany, Magnolia, TX and of course, all my friends from Cazevieille, Languedoc-Roussillon, France. I love you all. Say hi, don’t be shy you fuckin maggots!

#2 – I love these guys from Belgium. Don’t worry boys… when I go to Brussels one day, I wanna make sure we’re gonna have a threesome. Both of you guys can take turns fucking both my mouth and my ass. I’m gonna milk your genitals until the cows come home. I LOVE YOU BOTH!!!!




#3 – More love from all over the world… Big shout out to Milwaukee, Wisconsin and Hong Kong! As always, you know where to send your love. NO PHOTOSHOPPED PICTURES PLEASE!!! Email



#4 – I hope you liked Podcast #003. If you haven’t listened to it yet, click here to download it. I named my Podcast "Greetings From The Third World". I’m open to ideas and suggestions!


#5 – Be sure to pay my online forum a visit. It’s free for god’s sake. I’m gonna go there in a bit to post a couple of things.


Anyway, I have NO idea where it is in the USA but all I know is Amber Valetta was born there.

Apparently I’m this "Filipino Socialite" and I "make out with European models".



Oh jesus.

European Models?


Making out with them?



Hilarious. I LOVE IT.

I like it that they featured me though. It’s one step to world domination. It’s nice to have readers from Oklahoma.


Click here to read the article online.

I think that’s all for now. I gotta be up early tomorrow.

Email or SMS +63-915-785-1492.

I love you all.


PS. Discuss this blog post here.

8:03 am

Podcast #003 is Available!

15/02/2006, Podcast

Podcast #003


I’m officially addicted to PODCASTING. I’m telling you, it’s soo much better than hoovering endless lines of fine Peruvian corn starch up your nostrils.

I answered a grand total of 15 questions (the ones I like) on my latest podcast. You HAVE to listen to me do that ninjaesque wooheeeeeyha babble. I’m still laughing as I’m typing this entry.

To download my latest podcast, please enter your name and email address below.

You’ll INSTANTLY receive an email from me that contains a link to download the MP3 file.

(BTW: you may have to check your junk mail folder if you don’t get it on your inbox and authorize any email coming from

Don’t worry, I only want your names and email addresses to keep track of who and how many people downloaded my file. Numbers are important to me you know… information is gold!

I don’t mind at all if you tell everyone you know about my podcast. In fact, I’d even appreciate it if you spread the word.

However, I’d be extremely thankful if you point all your minions to go to this page instead so they can download the file on their own, rather than you handing out the MP3.

I ***PROMISE*** that I will ***NEVER*** share, rent or sell your personal information to anyone.










Not even to my own mother.

Big Changes at

I spent far too many hours playing with internet technology. I mean, it’s 8:00AM and I’m still awake for god’s sake.

1) Please update your address books to reflect my NEW email address. From now on going forward, please use to email me. My gmail account is good but I’d rather use my email address so your emails will go to my Outlook.

2) I made a discussion board/online forum!!!! I get far too many emails on a daily basis and as much as I’d love to respond to them all, I couldn’t because of time constraints. I’m starting to hate gmail cause I just found out that a ton of my non-spam emails went to my junk mail folder. Oh the horrors of technology!!

Anyway, to access the Forum, visit:

It’s currently dead empty at the moment (duh) cause I haven’t publicised it yet.

3) I’m still getting a lot of people use my URL. PLEASE CEASE AND DESIST FROM USING THAT URL and use WWW.BRYANBOY.COM instead. If you run a blog or a website that links to my typepad URL, please change them to I AM SOOO GRATEFUL that you have a link on your site to time… if you are NOT currently linking to my website, please do so… you won’t regret it. :P

I need my beauty sleep. I’m knackered to the bone and I’m on the verge of passing out.

Don’t forget to visit the forum to discuss this post and/or my latest podcast.

I love you all as always..

Email or SMS +63-915-785-1492.



2:53 am


14/02/2006, Social Awareness


Gutom = Hunger

I thought I’d post this entry while it’s fresh from my asshole. I’d probably forget about it when I resurrect from my beauty sleep tomorrow.

I know it’s Valentine’s Day where I live and I’m supposed to be keeping an eye out on my email accounts, landline and mobile phone for a man who will wine, dine and buy me something from Cartier on the last minute.

However, hunger striked again and I had no choice but to raid the larder for a midnight snack.

I grabbed a Gatorade, a bag of Lays and some high-voltage salsa before going to my mom’s room. My mom is the ultimate partner in crime when it comes to my binge-eating sins.

She told me to stay and watch this documentary about a reporter who chose to live the day-to-day life of a starving citizen of the land of the brown, l’exotique and the natives and provide an in-depth perspective on how they survive in these hard times.


She specifically said "I hope you think twice before reaching out for your credit card when you buy another Chanel bag."

"Great," I thought.

I’m gonna have another social awareness lesson from a mad woman who once said some of the people in my country are similar to poultry because of their inability to stop producing a shitload of offspring in spite of their economic conditions. I have to give the woman some credit… it’s the truth, whether you like it or not.


Anyway, the reporter met this 28 year old married man with 8 kids. He decided it would be best to spend an entire day with him. The man lives in the shanty with no electricity etc.



He sells empty plastic bottles on the street for a living. He can’t even afford transportation… he walks more than 5 kilometers to go to the market to sell his bottles.

He also has to make at least US$2.50 a day in order to provide 1 meal for his wife and 8 kids which consists of a kilo of rice and a can of sardines. That’s their entire meal for the day.

1 can of sardines = 10 human beings

Most of the time, he doesn’t even make that US$2.50. So what they do is just buy rice… and some salt. If you think that’s awful, wait till you read this: there are days when he doesn’t make any money AT ALL.

The following day, the reporter went to another area where he met a man who has 13 kids. You read that right.


His plight is similar to the first man. Too many kids, too little money/food.


He even thought of turning into crime for a fast buck… but he hated the idea of doing so because it would be terrible for the kids if he went to jail.

He was literally in tears when he was being interviewed.


At that point, I think I’ve seen enough.

I had an enormous lump in my throat whilst watching the drama of people at the bottom of the…. to say "food chain" would be an overstatement cause they HAVE LIMITED ACCESS TO FOOD.

In an effort to lift my spirits up, I suddenly thought that it might be therapeutic if ALL of the world’s anorexics and bullemics move to Las Islas Filipinas.

But alas, the lump in my throat didn’t go away.

It really made me think how BLESSED I am to be in the position where I’m in…

And I’m not just saying that so I’ll look good in YOUR eyes.

My gut says that you probably think I really don’t give a flying fuck about these rodents who doesn’t know when to stop fucking a vagina.

Don’t worry, I won’t take it against you personally if that’s what/how you think.

To the uninitiated… or to the newbie, my little narcissistic shrine has always been a tribute to me, myself and I, my love affair for all things fabulous, luxurious, hedonistic… my love for travel, shopping, handbags, designer goods, my never-ending quest for acceptance from others and of course, my vain and pathetic attempts to looking good.

A lot of people wonder whether I give to charity because "all I do"  (which, in my books, mean = all they SEE or all I WANT THEM to SEE) is have fun.

In my opinion, the point of giving to charity is to support the charity’s cause… voluntarilty, discreetly and something that comes from the heart.

I don’t understand the need to publicize or to tell anyone whenever I donate to charity. Private acts of kindness need not to be shown or told to anyone.


Perhaps I’ll publicize, yes, in my own circle, if, for example, I (or they) need support… fundraising events etc.

What do you want me to do… go around telling I donated this, I donated that? That’s ridiculous. Only people who run in public office do that.

Moving on…

At this point, I’m not even gonna point fingers and play the blame game as to who the culprit is. The damage is already here. There are people starving and they need help.

Don’t ask me for a solution either. My mere 2 brain cells is not capable of thinking something for the long-term.

I’ll be honest: thinking about eradicating poverty gives me rashes and hemorrhoids.



But as someone who, UNFORTUNATELY, have luck on his sides (thanks to his ridiculous antics and vulgar mind) to empower people, the best that I can offer at this point is AWARENESS.

Afterall, proper awareness can ignite something big… something that can benefit others instead of ourselves.

That doesn’t mean we should stop buying Chloe clothes or Yves Saint Laurent accessories. I know that’s what I did earlier this afternoon.

Shit, with everything that I said above, I should run for Miss fucking World 2006.

I’m sure I’d get the crown.

Email or SMS +63-915-785-1492.

I love you all.


8:11 am

Podcast #002 Out Now!

12/02/2006, Podcast

Podcast #002 Out Now!

It’s 7:18AM and I just finished a podcast. Like the first podcast, it’s mostly music but this time I’ve got a little surprise from some of my Malaysian, Swedish and British friends.



I’ll be talking a lot more in the next podcast to come. That’s a promise.

I just need to figure out what to say.

blue sky

In fact, let me decide now.

On Podcast #3, I’ll go ahead and do a Q&A session.

Post 3 questions on the comments area or email them to me.

They must be interesting…

I am NOT going to answer questions that I’ve been asked before.

I’ll submit another blog entry in a bit. It’s 7:23AM and I’m sooo tired. I need my beauty sleep.

Email or SMS +63.915.785.1492.



7:20 pm

Sustenance for the Soul, Fashion First Before Comfort, Guess Who Came For Dinner?

10/02/2006, Current Affairs, Fan Art, Friendships, Press Coverage

Sustenance for the Soul

This is one of the main reasons why life is worth living.

I know the best things in life are often (very) expensive – I’m not gonna be a hypocrite… I’m gonna be soo happy if I got a brand new Maybach, a crocodile Birkin IN NEON PINK with diamonds, a gorgeous De Grisogono watch or a new massive pink diamond Graff ring that’s huge enough to create a fuckin hole as big as the Grand Canyon on someone’s face when I punch them… but hey… I’m not gonna complain if something is being given to me for free.

It’s not everyday that I get very sweaty, young, aspiring porn star males with construction worker-like bodies from Canada take their shirts off and pose for the camera.




I’m telling you… it’s images like these that pretty much keep me going. Images that depict your unconditional love serve as vital life support to my dreary, dull life.

Even Jessie and Natalie (from Malaysia), sent their love from the fabulous The Datai in Langkawi. Lucky bitches… I NEED A BEACH HOLIDAY!!!!!!!



What are you waiting for?

Everyone’s got a friggin camera these days – digital cameras, webcams, mobile phones, whatever. Be creative and take a photo of your love. Email Be creative… please? None of those photoshopped crap.

I would literally cream my pants if anyone of you manage to get an entire gang of muscled fire fighters (or any men in uniform for that matter) strip and hold a sign over their genitals. I’d die a happy old woman if that happens.

*hint hint*

Fashion First Before Comfort

Last night was funny. I’ve never had a fashion failure moment (thanks to sheer stupidity) in the longest time.

I got invited to a friend’s birthday party at a local bar yesterday night. Everyone should wear blue because duh, it was a blue-themed party.

You see, I’m generally confident in whatever I put on. I usually just don’t give a shit whether my clothes look good on me or not. It’s always about how I feel, my mood and my attitude. To some, yes, I look fabulous. To most, well, I look like fashion roadkill. Whatever. What really matters is how I feel. If I feel good in spite of others thinking I look like crap, good.

I literally had nothing to wear yesterday. I thought I’d give my navy blue men’s (it’s the smallest for men’s… in my books, it’s OVERSIZED) velvet dinner jacket a shot. I bought it last year and I haven’t worn it.

And since my mother was out, I thought I’d raid her wardrobe for good finds. That woman HATES it whenever my siblings and I go to her closet.

I found a really old gold Chanel belt with stones. It’s amazing what kind of treasures I find in my mom’s closet.

I have no idea whether it can be considered as vintage. All I know is the fact that it’s old and several seasons ago. I think it’s the year when Shalom Harlow and Stella Tenant came out with those skin-tight, beige beaded Chanel dresses.


I wore the oversized navy blue velvet jacket on its own. I cinched (? I don’t know the right word) the sleeves down to my elbows. I wore the Chanel piece high up on the waist ala a Yves Saint Laurent. I thought the Charles Jourdan jeweled bag complimented the look.

With my hair slicked to the side, damn, I thought I looked smashing.

I thought I looked FABULOUS.

I arrived at the party alone. I said hi to DJ (the birthday celebrant) and to several familiar faces.

I was smoking outside – I HATE THE INDOOR NONSMOKING LAW IN THE CITY OF MAKATI. SOMEONE PLEASE ABOLISH THIS LAW BECAUSE IT’S KILLING ME FASTER THAN NICOTINE – and there was a table with several girls (who eventually introduced themselves… Hi MICHELLE :P) I didn’t knew who recognized me and said "Bryanboy!".

I’m still not used to people approaching me (don’t get me wrong… I love it… and I FUCKING ENCOURAGE IT… DON’T BE SHY, SAY HI… I DON’T BITE…. JUST DON’T LAUGH AT ME CAUSE I HAVE NO SOCIAL SKILLS WHATSOEVER AND I DO FEEL LIKE A TWAT SOMETIMES… hahaha) so I ended up getting all nervous. All I said was "sorry" and I ran to the toilets faster than the speed of light.

There weren’t a lot of people when I got there so it was kinda awkward. I didn’t want to play tails and tag along with people so I thought it would be best if I get a drink, smoke outside the bar and wallow in loneliness.

That’s when I started getting hot flashes… there I was, looking all cool and good then my forehead started to sweat like a rapist.


I couldn’t bear it any longer so I bid my BRBs to my friend and told him I’m gonna go back home and change.

I HAVEN’T SPENT MORE THAN 15 MINUTES from the time I arrived!!!!!

It was HELL, I’m telling you.

I told my driver to bring me home and I settled for a Marc by Marc Jacobs top and my Chanel bag.


(That’s DJ, the birthday boy and moi)

It was soooo weird cause for the first time (in such the longest time) I felt like a complete fuck-up. I said hi to familiar faces (when I’m not tagging along with DJ) and managed a few conversations here and there, but boy it was sooo strange. It felt like I didn’t know anyone.

That’s when reality hit me.

Maybe I don’t really know anyone.

I found myself standing alone in some occassions, smoking cigarettes, my eyes either wandering all over the place or just staring on the floor, whereas everyone is busy chit chatting.

I think the reason why I felt like I was an outsider is because I REALLY AM AN OUTSIDER… the classic fly-on-the-wall sort of thing.

I guess what it all boils down to is good ol classic social skills.

My fashion disaster ruined my mood the entire night so I left the party early. I stayed for about 45 minutes then I went home.

Shit, I got home at fuckin 1AM. GO FIGURE!

I wish I stayed longer… DJ’s been nothing but super super nice to me and it was a good party.

Guess Who Came For Dinner?

Wednesday night was a complete riot. I went to a good friend’s dinner party at Cuisine restaurant at my usual haunt, La Embajada.

(Happy birthday Tina!!!)







I’m gonna get a haircut tomorrow.

My hair is sooo long even dykes look more masculine than me.

I’m gonna shop online. It’s been quite awhile since I bought something from the internet. Shopping real life is soo much better though.

Be sure to check my website out in a couple of hours cause I’m gonna create another podcast.

You all know where to contact me. Email or SMS +63-915-785-1492.

I love you all.


8:59 am

Bryanboy’s First Podcast

08/02/2006, Podcast

Bryanboy’s First Podcast

By now you should know how much of a sucker I am when it comes to my readers.

After a handful of emails, comments and instant messenger chats, I decided to create my first PODCAST.

I dunno, podcasting is something new to me.

I know what is is and I’ve heard of it before… I thought it’s not my cup of tea considering I can type/blog anyway.


Feel free to pass it around to anyone that you may know.

I appreciate constructive criticism. I’m not a DJ nor do I have any mixing skills… all I did was record and put audio here and there.

Again, practice makes perfect.

Besides, it doesn’t help having a voice that of a drug-fucked drag queen. :)

The file is approx 9 Megabytes large and about 30 minutes long.

How can a file soo small takes hours upon hours to create? Hehehehe!

Be sure to listen to the entire file… you’ll hear me say the word of the century… baboosh!

I’ll keep this blog entry short and sweet because it’s 8:57AM and I am knackered to the bone.

On that profound note, here’s some fresh love from certified Frenchmen and the city of lights, Paris… in France!



I love you all. You know where to send images of your love…. email

I look forward to comments on my podcast :P


1:33 am

Protected: Hello Superstar!, Dazzling Daphne, Ageing Gracefully

07/02/2006, Current Affairs, Press Coverage, Random Cheesemax, Shilebrities, Social Awareness

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