Fashion! Turn to the left. Fashion! Turn to the right. Ooooooo Fashion! We are the goon squad and we’re coming to town. Beep-beep!
I picked up a copy of a old W magazine (November) with Kate Moss on the cover. I love, love this photo. Chanel couture (probably) and gorgeous handbags on prepubescent boys.
I’m sooo bored and I got inspired to do this.
Obviously my long distance fag hag (who was about to quit on me for sleeping with an old man… BTW, she only wants me to sleep with true blue ARYANS) can do it good.
There goes my trip to Milan. I’m sooo fucking gullible.
I’m supposed to go to Milan, Italy this Friday for a splurging trip of a lifetime yet I got persuaded by some sick Swedish kid (ok, not really a kid, he’s like 6-foot-whatever-giant) to hang out in Copenhagen.
Oh I don’t know.
I’m scared… and excited at the same time.
Why am I doing this?
Why have I chosen to meet some Swedish kid instead of hitting Via Montenapoleone, Via della Spiga, Via Sant Andrea, Via Manzoni, Via Borgospesso and Via Santo Spirito?
All it took was a couple of hours of talk and this guy (who has the same Chanel sunglasses as I do), changed my mind about Milan.
Why oh why oh why?
I’m crazy. That’s why.
I went to NK, this Swedish department store today and took a look at Hermes. I ended up buying a nice bracelet (this color is very rare).
Copenhagen, here I come!
Move Over, Dolly!
Move over, Dolly the Sheep.
Meet my new friend Nils.
I bought him today at this shop called DUKA. It’s a HUGE wooden sheep complete with wool, ears and tail.
He is SOOOOO cute. I love him!
There were sooo many beautiful things here in Stockholm, including those 3 British guys right behind my table at this cafe. I didn’t know Brits can be soo good looking when almost all of the Brits I know look like shit – just kidding.
I’ll update you later. I love you all.
P.S. Some gay swedes are talking about me on this forum. Click here. I have NO idea what they are talking about but I’m sure they’re having fun making fun of me. LOL. Hej Hej Hej Stockholm! LOL
Got back about an hour ago after a night’s worth of clubbing. I met up with Eli and Nikolas and went to this club called "Lino".
It wasn’t so bad; they could do better with the music though.
(me and Nikolas)
Contrary to what people think, there aren’t many blonde guys in Stockholm.
There were a shitload of cute guys though, yes.
What I like most though is the fact how random strangers aren’t shy to come up and say "I love your fox" – I wore William (my fox stole with the head) today, actually. I’d say no less than 10 people came up to tell me they love my fox. One guy even said "you know, why look for a cock when you can touch/feel the tail" as he was stroking William’s tail.
This is why I love nordic countries; they sure understand the value and can appreciate fur.
Now that they’re gone, I’m back to my usual lonely self here in my hotel room.
I’m gonna sleep it off, go to NK and H&M (oh shush) tomorrow.
Eli even invited me to a pastry baking party tomorrow. They’re going to bake these:
If you know of anyone in the Stockholm area that would like to hang around with me, please, by all means, email firstname.lastname@example.org. It would be cool to meet other folks – variety is always nice.
That’s it for now. I’m really, really tired.
On a different note, I’ll leave the guessing game TO YOU, my dear readers, as to who this guy is.
(HANNAH MATRONIC, yes, he is a fucking kargador and I could care less)
Remember that episode on Sex and the City?
All dressed up and nowhere to go/no one to go out with.
This is exactly what I’m feeling right now here in Stockholm.
Okay… erase that.
THIS IS EXACTLY WHAT I’M FEELING RIGHT NOW HERE IN STOCKHOLM.
It’s 11:39PM and I’m itching to go out. Problem is, I’m lonely and miserable.
I’ve been here for 6 hours.
I wanted to go to this cafe but the (US$20) cab driver dropped me off at some place where all the streets were made of bricks. It was wonderful and nice – Stockholm is a beautiful city.
I couldn’t find the cafe that I want to go and I ended up being lost… for about an hour.
My boots suffered torrential abuse from all that walking. Each step that I made as I galloped made this clink-clunk sound on the stones.
I roamed around the brick roads, took a nice evening stroll then went back to the hotel.
Oh I don’t know.
It’s 4:18PM here in Stockholm and I just checked in at the hotel.
Fuck, it’s already dark outside.I have this nagging feeling that I’m soo gonna love Stockholm.
The moment you get out of the plane gates, you’ll see an abundance of famous Swedes plastered on the wall. One thing that striked me most is one of my favourite models, Mini Anden.
Even the immigration officer things I’m beautiful. I gave him my passport, all he asked me was "are you here on vacation?" I said yes, but I’m here to shop. Then I saw his eyes move from my passport to William (my oversized dead fox scarf with a head) which I placed on the counter. He winked at me and said "enjoy your stay".
HELL YEAH I’LL DEFINITELY ENJOY MY STAY.
As soon as I’ve checked in to the hotel, there’s this Danish guy (blonde) who helped me out with my luggage to my room. He’s sooo adorable… and he’s very chatty, asking me if it’s my first time at the hotel, told me that Stureplan is just near, even gave me a cord for high speed internet connection. Then he said something about his life story how he’s also new here in Stockholm (he moved from Denmark).
So go figure.
I have something to talk about later; I just need to freshen up, wash my face and trim my finger nails.
I’m definitely going clubbing tonight, whether YOU like it or NOT.
EVEN IF I DON’T KNOW A SINGLE SOUL IN THIS CITY.
And yes, I had one of the BEST fucks in my life – in Moscow.
I’ll tell you more later.
Including the juicy stuff.
P.S. If you’re in/near Stockholm and would like to rescue me from chronic boredom, please email me, email@example.com. I need to buy a Swedish sim card for my phone, too.
If you think I’m the gayest gay that ever gayed in mankind, wait until you see the gayest gay that gayed in a video. A friend from Vienna emailed me a link and trust me, it pretty much made my day. Click here to play the video.
Evgenia sorta looks like that guy. Except he’s 32, had light stubble, bigger arms/chest and eyeglasses.
(BTW, thanks for the butter tip; I got the ring off my finger!)
I’m in Pain
I decided to stay in last night. I slept at around 10PM, got up at 4AM (which is 2 hours ago).
Thing is, when I got up, one of my fingers hurt like hell. I looked at it and thought, "shit, it’s the fucking ring"
I tried to take the ring off and I couldn’t. The finger got swollen throughout the night.
I hate it when this happens.
I mean, it’s a cheapo ring.
I don’t want this ring to be stucked on my finger for the rest of my life. For god’s sake, It’s not even fuckin cubic zirconia.
Had it been a US$2.5 million Graff ring, hell I wouldn’t sit here and complain.
But it’s a US$3 ring that I got from Hong Kong.
Help me. Please.
I tried to do all sorts of stuff – I relaxed, put some lotion on my finger, etc etc etc. Nothing worked!
Email firstname.lastname@example.org ASAP or post a comment on this site.
01/12/2005, Clubbing, Moscow
It’s 1:51PM and I’ve sobered up my act. I’m having room service lunch.
God. I am soo tempted to delete the ARGHH post.
But I won’t.
(first time to have sex since I did the HIV test… who the HELL am I fooling?)
Fuck, we’re all adults anyway… and that includes my parents and my family members.
You know what’s even funny, I haven’t spoken to my parents (on the phone) in about 10 days. I’m soo embarassed to call them after everything on my blog. HAHAHAHA. I’m sure they don’t care but I’m not completely shameless.
I’ll call them when I get to Stockholm. I promise.
Yesterday was rather fun.
I met up with Nataly at around 7:30PM at this cafe called "KofiTim" aka Coffee Time on Tverskaya (right beside Piramida). Met up with one of her friends (who is a math teacher) for some gin tonic, sushi, tea, etc.
We went to Restaurant NOA to meet Jane for dinner. I had scallops – they’re sooo huge… and delicious. Jane had some sort of black spaghetti. The food at NOA is good; in fact, one of their restaurant chefs cooks for Jane’s family once or twice a week at their house.
Apres-NOA, Nataly and moi went to this bar called "12 Volt". I’ve been here a couple of times last year. There were soo many people there. Although technically it’s a gay bar, there were a shitload of lesbians and a handful of straight couples.
(She’s a lesbian. she’s nice, believe it or not. She fancies her straight girl friend, the red head behind me on the 2nd pic)
Nataly’s friend (the Evgenia guy) arrived and ooooh he’s soo cute.
Perhaps "cute" isn’t the right word to describe him. He was absolutely fit, not too muscular… think of swimmer’s bodies. He had short dark hair (I like guys with short dark hair) and nice eyes. Ugh.. he’s just nice.
It’s funny cause he could BARELY speak English.
Nataly was right – language should never be a barrier when it comes to good ol shagging.
Heck, if blind or deaf people can do it so can I.
I don’t think I’d want to meet him again though. Not this year at least… perhaps maybe next year when I come back to Moscow again.
Ugh. Enough of this faggot nonsense.
Nataly invited me to go to her university’s party at this club tonight. I think I’m going there. I mean, hey, it’s not common for a third world Filipino slut get invited to Russian university parties eh?
More updates to follow later.
I need to be fabulous and clean again. I need to shower off this third-party testosterone stench on my skin.
I love you all.
Oh. my. fucking. God.
Oh I fucking hate it.
Oh Jesus Mary mother of Christ.
Since this is my blog (aka my personal, online, "dear diary", I’m gonna open up like the honest BITCH that I am and say what’s coming out from my head/heart/ass.
Words cannot express my fuckin anger.
Ugh. I can’t believe I didn’t took pictures of him.
My friend Natalya, being the pimp that she is (HAHAHAHAHAHAHA), introduced me to one of her gay friends.
His name is Evgenia (like my friend Jane… that’s her real name but Evgenia, pronounced as "Jhhhhaneya" or "John-ya"), he’s fuckin 32, soooo muscular, have very short dark hair (just the way I like it), some light stubble, (like Dima), about 6-foot-2, have soooo super strong arms and rock-hard abs…
I CAN’T BELIEVE HE DIDN’T HAVE A CONDOM WITH HIM.
(SHIT, I CAN’T BELIEVE I DIDN’T HAVE A CONDOM WITH ME.)
As someone who had experienced a shitload of crap just to have an HIV test earlier this year (thank god I CAME OUT as fuckin NEGATIVE…. since then, I’ve never had sex…), I’m sooo fucking scared to have sex cause of the whole HIV/AIDS thing — I hope you know where I stand on this; I want to be fuckin 75 years old and wear Oscar de la Renta… I don’t want to be HIV-positive and have the face of death right in front of myeyes.
Anyway…we kissed, we wanked each other off, we hugged, i blew him, we did all sorts of stuff except anal cause we both didn’t have condoms… I mean, shit, I didn’t expect this really… I’m not a sexual person… I’m more of a cock-teasing bitch… just look, be looked at, but no touch. HAHAHAHAH
(REMEMBER KIDS – NEVER DO ANYTHING PENETRATIVE UNLESS YA HAVE RUBBER – YOU MIGHT CATCH A DISEASE YOU’LL REGRET FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE)
blatttttttttt…. (I can’t believe I’m speaking Russian)
we did the deed (but nothing pentrative), chatted for about 30 minutes and I told him I want to go to sleep – he told me he has to go home as well.
Oh, before I go to bed, can I just say…
DAVID MCCULLOUGH, THE GUY I HAD SEX WITH TODAY LOOKS ALMOST EXACTLY LIKE YOU EXCEPT HE DOESN’T HAVE ISSUES WITH HIS SEXUALITY (UNLIKE YOU **DID**). IT’S FUNNY HOW HE’S GOT EYEGLASSES (AND SO DID YOU)… OH I STILL (SORRY BABE) HAVE FEELINGS FOR YOU BUT WE HAVE OUR OWN SEPARATE WORLDS.
to cut the story short, this guy I just did tonight sorta looks like this guy I had the hots for about 3 years ago…
Anyway, I think I’d rather sleep.
I’m so drunk and my mouth smells like his crotch. I need to wash my face and brush my teeth.