Thai Airways. Smooth as Silk
[Disclaimer: get some red bull, some amphetamines, coffee or whatever you can grab to keep you awake because this post will most likely bore you to death. But frankly, I'm a happy camper.]
Who would have thought my Wednesday would be soooo productive?
I think a ton of people are still suffering from post-mortem syndrome.
Everything is starting to go back to normal; the country’s government and business sectors have been closed since Friday last week and today is the first day all the office workers, clerks, 9-5ers, the yucky yuppies brigade and their ilk, go back to work.
I got up at 5AM earlier this morning. I don’t care if I didn’t put make up on and I had a bad hair day – I was determined to file my visa application with Embassy #3.
Wore my Elie Tahari trousers tucked in my brown Frye boots, a Lacoste pique polo and a Zara cardigan. Brought my Birkin with me. It’s the only respectable bag that I have.
I originally plan on channeling my inner Madonna for Versace ad campaign but I ended up looking like a woman in her 40s. I don’t give a shit though. I was probably the best dressed person in the Embassy.
Can I just say how wonderful that embassy is? It was Thai Airways galore – everything was smooth as silk.
Sure I have to queue for about an hour and a half but when they opened their doors at 9AM sharp, I was out in no more than 20 minutes.
I handed the Filipino lady at the counter 2 sets of folders: one containing all my original documents – tax returns, bank books, financial statements, birth certificate, all my passports, bank statements, everything… and another containing my visa application, pictures, itineraries and photocopies of EVERYTHING in folder 1.
I told her I need to get my passports back AND folder #1 (originals) cause I’m also applying for a visa with Embassy #4. She told me there’s no problem.
I was totally surprised that the lady was nice. Seriously. She even SMILED! She even talked to me! It’s quite refreshing actually.
In other words, SHE WASN’T A ROBOT.
She quickly went through my documents (yep, all 8,491 KILOS worth of documents) and told me they’re all ok and she’ll accept them. She asked me as to when I got the passport photos (that I submitted) taken. I said March. She replied: we can only accept photos taken within the last 6 months, come back with new photos.
Other than that she told me to contact the hotel I’m staying at and ask them to fax the Embassy with a hotel confirmation.
I asked her whether or not I’ll be interviewed and she said there’s no need. It takes about 10 days for processing.
It was simple as that.
I was so excited and relieved that I minced my way out of the door thinking there’s still enough time to go to Embassy #2… soo excited I completely forgot to get my passports.
I ran back to the elevator and went straight to the counter again and told her I forgot to get my passports and my folders back.
She greeted me with a smile, told me she was just about to call but she’s glad I came and that’s about it.
As I’ve said earlier, I have two phrases: Thai Airways. Smooth As Silk.
I hope I get approved… otherwise I’ll commit suicide.
Diplomatic Faux Pas
I take back whatever I said on THIS post. I would like to express my sincerest apologies to Mrs. Isthatanold Dior for calling her a bitch.
I encounted her again today (who, btw, wore a vibrant floral ensemble) at Embassy #2. I was supposed to go there Tomorrow – they were going to open the Visa Section strictly for me because I whinged I’m busy on Wednesday.
But since I finished at Embassy #3 early, I thought I’d drop by at Embassy #2 to see what they can do for me.
THIS TIME HOWEVER, SHE GREETED ME WITH A SMILE!
I couldn’t help but wonder why all these consuls are suddenly smiling when they have reputations that they are colder than cold-blooded animals. It’s quite mind-boggling actually.
Have they really opened up to the fact that I’m NOT going to be one of these?
Anyway, I explained to her my case THOROUGHLY, gave her the bank receipts that I paid the expedited payment fee.
She told me it’s going to be VERY, VERY, VERY cold in December.
Then I told her it’s going to be MONEY WELL SPENT. I’m wearing my FUR!
She laughed (it requires more than a MIRACLE for a consul to do such thing).
Then she pointed on her calendar, did some calculations.
Visa Approved. I’ll pick it up early next week.
She gave me a double entry visa.
I’m a happy, happy young man!
More updates later.
Did you know November 1st of each and every year is a public holiday? That’s the case here in the heartlands of the third world.
It’s the time of the year where millions of Filipino people pay their respects to the dead kind. They flock cemeteries like rodents in the dark.
I went to the cemetery today with my dad, my sister and my brother to visit my grandmother (mom’s side) and my grandfather (dad’s side) and boy oh boy I had the ultimate "snap-snap" reality check today.
When I saw my grandfather’s grave, I realized, SHIT…
WE MUST BE SOOO FUCKING POOR.
It really is not funny to see one of your ancestors buried in a nasty plot when clearly there are others ON TOP OF THE FOOD CHAIN who have full-blown familial mausoleums.
The ones on those pictures aren’t even the top-of-the-line mausoleums. These are the cheap ones made out of stone (and not marble). It made me think: surely my clan must be REALLY poor not to be able to afford one of those mini dead person houses.
I told my dad I DONT WANT TO BE BURIED IN ONE OF THE NASTY REGULAR plots.
I asked him how many plots do we need to get in order to get a decent dead person house.
He made this funny "let me calculate" face and said that in my case, I’ll be needing 4 bathrooms, a kitchen, a living room, a salon, a maid’s area and a huge walk-in wardrobe to store all my material stuff.
In other words, he told me I don’t need a mausoleum. I need THIS:
After visiting my grandparents’ plots for a few minutes, we went back to the car and drove home.
On our way back, I had this dirty thought at the back of my head.
My dad had always taught me and my siblings to LOVE OUR OWN.
I do love my own… in my OWN little ways…
But in all seriousness
I found the answer why I don’t.
How can I love my own when my own looks like this?
I miss my grandparents. :(
The only thing that cheered me up was this random old woman at the cemetery with a Dior (probably a FAUX DIOR) bag.
Long live the new-moneyed ones (like me, you and others) with illusions of grandeur.
Happy all saints day!
Here’s a picture of me inside the van over the weekend (sans makeup and wig) with a little bit of photoshop fun. Happy Halloween to each and every one of you.
Happy 80th Birthday to Fe-fe-fendi! Gotta love Amanda LePore darling.
There’s something in the air and the only thing I can think of is winter.
I’ve been experiencing a HUGE traffic surge (and emails + SMS messages) from my viking readers in Norway, Sweden and Finland over the past few days.
Perhaps I have some sort of a snow angel doing a jolly good round of shameless Bryanboy promotion up there near the arctic circle? Whoever you are, feel free to spread the word about my third world brown-assed glory.
I have no idea who/how/why. I love it though!
In fact, I even spent quite some time chatting to a lovely lass from Stockholm a day or two ago – her name is Alex E.
Proof that I learn something new everyday: JANTELAGEN (aka Jante’s Law). A lot of scandinavians apparently live by this "unofficial law".
From WikiPedia: Although there actually are 10 different rules in the law, they are usually referred to as a singular homogenous unit. The Danish word loven means "the law" and can be translated into the English as "code." Like in all Scandinavian languages, -en is a definite article suffix.
- You shall not think that you are special.
- You shall not think that you are of the same standing as us.
- You shall not think that you are smarter than us.
- Don’t fancy yourself as being better than us.
- You shall not think that you know more than us.
- You shall not think that you are more important than us.
- You shall not think that you are good at anything.
- You shall not laugh at us.
- You shall not think that anyone cares about you.
- You shall not think that you can teach us anything.
Hmmm. I can smell humility, modesty and purity from afar. Thanks but no thanks.
I might as well go to a convent and be a fucking nun.
Who the hell cares about us? Life is all about ME, ME and ME!
One of my former clients and friends (who I terribly miss – the legendary Thomas Leonard, the father of COACHING) who passed away a couple of years ago, said one of the rules of attraction is to become INCREDIBLY SELFISH.
To cut it short, all you gotta do is go to the Stureplan.se website to see an abundance of swedes breaking Jante’s Law. You’ll also see how the beautiful people of the north live.
Big shout out to people from Kristiansand, Norway, students from Tampere University of Technology, Tampere, Finland, Herrngen, Sweden, Kingswood, NSW, Australia, Norco, California, Huvudsta, Sweden, Skogome, Sweden, Moriyacho, Japan, Horten, Norway, Verwolde, Netherlands, Eastwood, NSW, Australia, Seoul, South Korea and Husie, Sweden.
Bryanboy Needs *YOU*!
I’m in need of hot boys and anorexic girls so I can pimp them and get a shitload of money.
Eeew. I’m kidding.
I already have a hard time pimping myself let alone peddle other people’s flesh, souls, orifices and dignities.
Someone around here needs to be filthy rich (that’s me darling, NOT you.. alright… you make me rich and I’ll drag you along… we’ll both be swimming in money) and I need your help to achieve that dream.
I don’t usually like to talk about business because I NEVER mix my personal and professional lives (don’t ask me what I do for a living – I’ll tell you I’m a whore, a funeral director, a fluffer and a porn star – all you gotta do is pick the best aswer) but one of my independent contractors have quit on me because she’s about to give birth and I can totally understand where she’s coming from.
Enough drama. I’ll cut through the chaff and go straight to what I need.
I’m an equal opportunity chu chu bells person (all ages, race, underwear type, etc are welcome to apply) but I have to let you know that I’ll most likely hire people based in the land of the brown, l’exotique and the natives aka Philippines.
Position: Web Editor
- you must be internet savvy
- you must have your own computer at home
- you must have high-speed internet access
- you must have an Instant Messenger program (Yahoo! or MSN Messenger)
- you must be proficient with a graphics software (preferably Macromedia Fireworks)
- you must have great HTML and CSS skills; experience with Macromedia Dreamweaver
- priority will be given to those with excellent English (this is where the English Nazis can be useful; trust me, my English is CRAP) and copyediting skills.
- crop images for web use
- upload images
- update various websites/web pages/blogs
- design and develop websites, web pages and graphics
- manage and create online affiliate programs
Things to keep in mind:
- the greatest thing about this position is the fact that you get to work at the comforts of your own home; you can go to school/office/do your own thing during the day and work for me at night and/or vice-versa
- any work created belongs to me, my firm and/or my clients. You won’t be allowed to use any work that you create as part of your own respective portfolios.
- our relationship will be that of an independent contractor/client and NOT that of an employer/employee
- you will be responsible for paying for your own taxes, social security, healthcare, etc.
- you need to be available for 30 "work" hours per calendar week – which means it includes the weekends. it is up to you to divide such time, for instance, 3 hours today, 6 hours tomorrow, etc. all you have to do is to report to me via email/phone/instant messenger when you’ll be available/unavailable.
- you’ll need to use a time-tracking software (I’ll give you a copy) where you need to "punch-in/punch-out" before and after you work.
- you will only be paid for work (aka billable) hours; you won’t be paid for "idle" time.
- you’ll need to sign a confidentiality, subcontractor and non-compete agreements so both our arses are protected
- send me your CV/resume via email – email@example.com
- include any work samples; if you have a blog or a website, include the URLs
- include how much you’ll charge for those 30 hours (per week) and an hourly rate outside those 30 hours; be reasonable – I know how labor is cheap in the fucking Philippines so don’t charge me extortionate rates.
- free labor is good, too. i can pay you in methods other than cash if you want.
Email firstname.lastname@example.org. DO NOT call my cellphone because I don’t pick up calls from people whose numbers are unknown to me. My cellphone is published online so that people can tell me they love me by text; those are nice to get whenever I’m feeling down.
Please feel free to forward this post to anyone.
Rest in Peace, Daria.
Rest in peace, my baby. You’ve been here for a little over a month but Daria but you brought so much joy and happiness in my household. I terribly miss you. It was completely my FAULT. I tried to save your fragile life but I made a wrong decision in the process. I wish I have sent you to a different veterinarian instead of the one who said you have kidney and liver problems. I wish I didn’t allow you to be confined at their clinic – they made the wrong decision to put you on dextrose, causing you to bloat. I wish I could turn back the clocks and brought you to an acquaintance’s referral. I just hate you being gone!
I terribly, terribly miss you babe. I tried to avoid conversations with people over the past few days because I thought I could pretend to put a straight face and play numb… but I just can’t do it anymore.
I know it’s too late for me to tell you this. AT FIRST, I thought I’d get you from the breeder simply because you were so beautiful, small and I wanted a "toy". I originally wanted a small dog for "novelty purposes" – a dog to pamper based on my selfish needs and not YOUR real needs, a dog to dress up and be seen with etc. My original intentions to get you were based on pure selfishness.
But I fell in love with you a few days after we met. You became my only best friend. I’ve put my own personal gain and selfishness aside because I know you deserved to be loved and cared for. You’re not just for "now", you’re a companion for life.
Words cannot express my sadness or how I truly feel. I am so sorry for irresponsibly taking your life away from you. I love you – you will always be remembered and I will never forget you.
(This message goes out to my readers: I know you guys are a nice bunch but I would appreciate it if you don’t say/ask me anything in regards to Daria’s death. I’d like to thank you, in advance, for YOUR condolences – I hope y’all understand. This is one of my personal flaws – I tend to play MUTE, DEAF and BLIND when it comes to personal problems. It’s a nasty, permanent flaw, unfortunately…)
Life Went On
Don’t I deserve an Academy award for putting up a fake face over the weekend in spite of Daria’s death a few days ago?
Errr.. iIt wasn’t a fake face actually; I *DID* have a lot of fun.
It felt like as if I had a huge lump in my throat and the only way to numb myself from feeling such lump is through copious amount of alcohol, make-up and clothes that a transvestite prostitute would be proud of.
I think I’ll stick to my 2-year old breedless, classless, "domestic short-haired" cat, Pinkie. I don’t want to waste any more lives at my EXPENSE.
I have a heart too, you know… 138/90 and 92 beats per minute.
I got up at 5:30AM earlier this morning and left the house at around 7:00AM to do some errands.
I quickly dropped by at my gal pal’s place and had some early morning gossip. Went to Starbucks afterwards, had a latte and drove back to my aesthetician’s clinic only to find out that they’re closed because of the All Saint’s/Souls Day holiday season.
Show Me Some Lovin’ Lovin’
Here are a couple of fan pics for you to point your fingers at and laugh. Thank you, thank you, thank YOU! Bryanboy loves you all and like what I said before, if only I can give you sexual favors, I would.
Meet Thom from the UK. Here I am thinking an extra "H" on one’s name is a very Filipino trait but little had I known it also exists halfway across the world.
Thom darling, I give you A+ for effHort.
You gotta love those kids in Singapore doing the Bryanboy pose. My god, the Philippine Embassy in Singapore should have a fucking BRASS MONUMENT of ME with my pose.
Worship me! All of you! I want y’all to put your left hand on your waist and your right arm in the air!
Last but not the least, Bryanboy loves people from Malaysia, especially Malaysian schoolkids.
Malaysia, Truly Asia!
Bryanboy Loves… and Random Cheesemax
#1 – Bryanboy loves people from Seaside, CA, Bombay, India, Paris, France, Queenstown Estate, Singapore, Valencia, CA, Maylands, WA, Australia, San Francisco, CA, Markham, ONT, Canada, Newmarket, QLD and of course, people from Copenhagen, Denmark. Bryanboy loves you all! Identify yourselves, bitches and say HI!.
#2 – Whenever I go out in public, I always take a quick trip to the toilets every once in a while to smell my armpits.
Being the complete sweaty betty that I am (trust me, in this weather, even a trivial thing such as BREATHING NORMALLY can make me sweat), I know I’m NOT the record-breaking, best-smelling person in the world so I do make the effort to lift my arms up, shove my nose to my pits and figure out whether or not my armpits stink — IN PRIVATE.
(BTW: Thank god my pits don’t usually get wet. It’s my PALMS and forehead that’s my problem.)
Anyway, rumor has it that there’s this one person locally who doesn’t seem to care (or at least make an effort) about his/her armpits. It’s not the first time I heard such gossip about ____. It’s quite sad that people talk about this person about that BO problem but NOBODY has the balls to confront that person – I know I CAN’T… cause I have a vagina.
But then again, who am I to judge when I haven’t really smelled that person?
If you think I have body odour or bad breath (guilty as charged, especially when I go out – I love oysters and booze – perfect recipe for halitosis!), please send an anonymous (or NOT SO) anonymous tip via www.sendatip.com. I invite you to send a tip to THAT person, i HOPE he knows who he is, so they’ll know what’s going on without revealing yourself.
I still can’t do it AND I won’t do it either… though I guess it would look as if it came from me because I posted that website URL on my blog. LOL.
Patsy Stone once said "one whiff of a cocoa bean and our customers would fly like vampires before garlic."
I don’t want to be that coca bean. I’m sure NOBODY does.
But this person that I’m talking about is worse than cocoa bean AND garlic, COMBINBED!
Oh I don’t know what to think anymore.
I love you all! As always, you know how to get hold of me. Email email@example.com or SMS +63-915-7851492.
Living it Large
If you can’t do it, someone has to.
At least in a small way.
A small yet vulgar way.
Har dee har har.
This is the best Bryanboy.com birthday present that I got in a LONG time.
The country’s #1 broadsheet (think newspaper for those of you illiterate bitches), dedicated 3 pages to my glorious and pretentious and fauxbuleux and trashy parrot self.
Alright, I have yet another prospect for my own TV show somewhere in North America (I’m keeping my mouth shut for now… BUT….)
For now, life can’t get any better than this y’all.
Full article can be found at:
(I’m posting the link LATER in the afternoon cause I don’t want people from the land of the brown, the natives and l’exotique NOT to buy today’s issue.)
BUY, BUY, BUY, BUY A COPY OF TODAY’S PHILIPPINE DAILY INQUIRER YOU UPTIGHT THIRD WORLD BITCHES!
It’s gorgeous! It’s madness! It’s fabulous! It’s madness! It’s fabulous madness at fabulous madness! (You gotta love Bubbles!!!!!!!!! Screw you if you don’t know who Bubbles is)
Thank you, Tim Yap, Jenni Epperson, Steve Tirona and the folks at Inquirer.
I LOVE the land of the brown, the natives and l’exotique! Long Live the Fabulous Third World!
What a nice way to start one’s morning.
I love you all!
Pop Your Cherry!
If you’re a Bryanboy.com virgin, let me pop your virtual cherry by reading some of my best (and old) entries. These foul-mouthed (and calorie-free) posts are what made me, the patron saint of pretentious people, fauxbuleux.
With over 2 million people served worldwide in the past year, surely I can’t be wrong.
It’s best to read these posts with a friend or two.
My ego is big, my mouth is foul and my asshole is wrecked.
And that’s the way I like it.
Are they vulgar? Are they entertaining? Are they hilarious? Click any of the links below to indulge in Bryanboy’s infamous verbal diarrhea.
- read | Model Citizen of the Land of the Brown, the L’Exotique and the Natives
- read | Just Because You Can’t Get One it Doesn’t Mean it’s Fake
- read | What an Awful, Awful Day
- read | You Know You’re God, Creator of the Universe, if You Can Get a Birkin Bag in a Day
- read | Go, Go, Go Goyard! Cap-e-tal Sin, We’re the Kids in America
- read | Giving British Gay Boys an Instant Sex Change
- read | We Don’t Have the Same Dior Darling. Mine Is Dior, Yours is eBay
- read | I Shot the Pervert, But I Didn’t Shoot the Cutie
- read | Disaster in St. Tropez
- read | Beauty Will Never Exist Without the Ugly
- read | Attack of the Freeloadin, Golden-Aged, Wrinkly Matrons
- read | Post-Mortem Teenage Angst at 22, Thanks to Friendster
A Token from Fargo, North Dakota
Here’s a token from Josh expressing his "deep-seated" affection and admiration for me, me and me!
As always, you all know where to contact me. Email firstname.lastname@example.org or SMS +63-915-785-1492.
Happy Birthday Bryanboy.com!
Pop open your virtual Cristal and Clicquots bottles and greet my little website a jolly first birthday.
Believe it or not, over 2 million computers worlwide had a taste of my third world arrogance and pretentiousness over the past year.
Thank YOU… each and every one of YOU for spreading the word around.
I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE you all!
Bring Out the Missoni!
Don’t you just love the rain?
Gray skies, a light breeze, H2O falling from the sky…it’s enough to justify cashmere, wool and mohair.
I don’t care if it’s 24 degrees celsius outside… that’s the closest thing we have to winter you bitches.
Screw Filipino people and their tacky nylon "windbreakers".
Ugh. Please, for the life of god, stop wearing such hideous garments.
Wear your nylon jackets, I’ll wear my cashmere, my wool and my mohair, thank you very much.
Fashion first before comfort.
I don’t care if I sweat inside as long as it’s not visible AND I look FUCKING fabulous on the outside.
(Don’t get me wrong – sweat is NEVER fabulous. A couple of sweat beads on your upper lip is enough to unglamourize an ensemble. Take it from experience. If you’ve got a sweaty upper lip, I’ve got a sweaty body – they don’t call me sweaty betty for nothing. The heat in this cesspit of a third world civilization is PURE torture, I’m telling you.)
The Missoni is gorgeous, non?
One last gorgeousness and I’m out.
I Have Seen the Future
… and all I can think of is the past and the present.
Meet Bryanboy’s borderline 80-something (or so she says, but we all know old women lie about their ages) grandma.
Images of liposuction and extreme plastic surgery pumped my scared mind.
I want to be as fabulou as Nan Kempner SANS liver spots, warts, wrinkles, veiny limbs, saggy skin, etc.
She’s spending the night over at our humble abode because my parents and some of my siblings went on a quick vacation. It’s just me, our maids and my grandma and her driver whos here in my house.
I went to Firma earlier, one of my favourite shops in Manila where they sell a wide variety of chic knick-knacks and bought this aquamarine-colored glass beaded necklace. I told her to try it on so I can take a picture of her.
Let’s just say I LOVE my grandma to BITS but that necklace would look FUCKING GOOD on me if I wore it with a plain white tank top and some jeans.
I love you nana!
Prima facie evidence that weight watchers (at least in the UK) is effective. Look at what "snuggles79" achieved in 9 months.
Visit his web page to see his photos:
I wonder if weight watchers can make me skinny, too.
Bryanboy Loves and Random Cheesemax
#1 – Bryanboy loves people from
#2 – I went to Embassy #2 and it looks like my visa will be approved. Unless they see this cheesemax, feel guilty and deny me when I go back.
The good thing about their embassy is how they make sure your documents are in order BEFORE you pay for the visa fee at a bank – yes, they don’t accept payments right there at the embassy. You HAVE to WASTE A COUPLE OF HOURS to go to a bank just to pay for your applicaton. Their reasoning behind this red tape drama is how they WANT to view your documents first before they make you pay the fee. If you paid the fee, all you need to do is to come back (AGAIN) at the embassy, submit your payment receipt and your passport and off your passport goes so they can stamp the visa.
If they have a problem with your documents, they’ll see you home and ask you to comply with their guidelines (therefore you won’t have to pay for the fee) because your application will most likely be declined.
That’s the good thing about this embassy – I guess they’ll only make you pay if they know you’re gonna be approved and if not, then they won’t ask you to pay for the fee, unlike others.
Next step for me?
All I need to do is to come back on Monday, queue for 2 hours, hand them my proof of payment for the visa fee AND THEN wait for 10 "working days" for them to stick a damn stamp on my passport.
Thing is, I’m leaving on NOVEMBER 15th!
Here’s what boggles me even further.
Me: How long is your fastest processing time? I saw on your flyer that you have 3 working days processing (this is the one I had last year) and a next and same-day process.
Her: 10 days
(followed by her closing the door in front of my face)
HOW RUDE IS THAT?
See what I’m telling you about being the mercy of others? It’s a position I hate next to doggie style.
If I didn’t need anything from then I would’ve slapped and spat at her in the face, told her she’s as big as a fucking elephant and she smells like funeral flowers.
I have to play the nice and sweet "oh, ok" game.
Word of warning – I had a different consul this time compared to the one I had last year. My consul back then was a nice and accommodating lady.
This one though was the WORST and RUDEST consul I’ve met in my ENTIRE life. I wanted to ask her a few questions but she was dowright cold.
Anyway, I have a feeling the bitch wore vintage Dior.. Her jacket and skirt had "buckles" in various positions, like the hem of her skirt (diagonally). The print of her skirt suit was AWFUL though.
She really was a complete BITCH – I submitted 2 tourist visa applications because I wanted 2 "single-entry visas". I don’t a double-entry visa because according to their policy, their tourist visas are only limited to a 30 day max. I’m staying 3 weeks in her country, followed by 2 weeks of galoping around a couple more contries and finally, a week back again that rude evil troll’s country so I can take that famous train (or somethin) to yet another country. It’s the perfect journey for a lifetime!
But no, this bitch consul disregarded my 2nd applicaton for the 2nd leg of my trip and acted as if I didn’t submitted anything. She’ll only consider the first application.
I remember her telling me that she might give a double entry visa but I gotta do your 2nd entry within 30 days.
I DON’T WANT TO DO MY 2nd ENTRY IN 30 DAYS!
Sod it. I WANTED to explain how she was misundertsood (I explained my case eloquently) but the fat girl behind a counter probably couldn’t understand a word of english so I’ll chalk it down to experience.
These embassy people are fucking insensitive.
There you are, a legitimate tourist who will burn your money in their motherland, and then they’re acting all hoity toity in YOUR cuntry (no pun intended – I love my CUNTRY)… UGH!
I’m 100% sure these expats are the ones who leave supermarket carts in the parking lot.
Oh yes. Their faces look familiar.
YOU KNOW WHAT’S EVEN FUNNY?
Her country is one of the most powerful nations of the world but a TON of their citizens are dirt poor, just like Filipinos.
Thank god they don’t have street children though but they have the MOST number of heroin addicts in the world.
I won’t tell you what that country is.
Enough bitching with the embassies. You all probably have NO idea what I’m talking about anwyay, LOL!!!
Here’s my visa tally so far
Destination1 – Approved
Destination2 – Most Likely to be Approved if not Approved already. Problem lies in the delay as to when can I get my passport cause I’ll be submitting the visa fee receipt on Monday – it takes about 10 WORKING days from the payment of the fee for them to process my application… and I’m leaving on NOVEMBER 10!!!!!
Destination 3 – May not have time to apply for this one. I have an appoinment on Friday so I’ll ask whether they require my passport to be in their place as I apply for yet another visa on their embassy.
Destination 4 Nothing.. Absolutely nothin. I haven’t applied yet.
#4 – God I’m freaking out as I’m typing. I’m hallucinating and I can see people standing up, mingling, drinking etc at the corder of my eye. I think it’s the side effects of going for 2 days without sleep and downin a xanax.
#5 – If you’re living in the land of the bown, the natives and l’exotique, be sure to buy a copy of the Philippine Daily Inquirer tommorrow, Saturday. I’m THERE = and I want YOUR feeback.
I love you all!!! Email email@example.com or SMS: +63-915-785-149.
I’m NOT Happy…
at the moment, that is.
Sorry for the lack of updates – I’ve got sooo many things going on in my life.
I’ve NEVER been this stressed. EVER!
At least my skin’s good this week. NO breakouts whatsoever.
Blame it on the facial that I recently had. Har har.
I’ll give you drama.
1. My baby bitch (literally), Daria, is really sick. In fact, she’s been sick for the past 3 days. The vet said she’s got kidney and liver problems, according to her recent blood test. She hasn’t peed since yesterday (Wednesday) – I know my pooch, she’s the crown princess of all things related to urine but for some strange reason, she hasn’t peed at ALL recently. My maid brought her to the vet (again) as I’m writing this for another check-up cause her stomach is REALLY bloated. Poor Daria. hope she gets well soon. Thinking about her makes me want to cry – she brings so much life in this household!
2. Xerox is my best friend these days. You won’t believe the amount of time I’ve spent hanging out with the trusty old xerox machine – the paper cuts on my fingers are prima facie evidence that all I’ve been doing the past few days is handling paperwork.
The embassies do want everything. Income tax returns, business registration documents, bank statements (HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO PRODUCE BANK STATEMENTS WHEN 2 OF MY "DAY-TO-DAY" BANK ACCOUNTS… WELL, BANKS, DON’T EVEN SEND PRINTED STATEMENTS CAUSE I JUST VIEW MY TRANSACTIONS ONLINE??????? THANK GOD I HAVE THE ODD, PASSBOOK-BASED SAVINGS ACCOUNT HERE AND THERE AND I’LL JUST USE THAT INSTEAD), credit card statements, photocopies of all my passports’ stamps and visas, etc etc etc. I even asked my driver to fucking go to the National Statistics Office to get a CERTIFIED copy of my birth certificate printed on some fancy schmancy paper. I simply don’t get it – isn’t my passport and my gorgeous self enough to validate my existence?
Obviously not cause I’m a MODEL CITIZEN of the THIRD WORLD.
You gotta love bureaucracy and red tape baby.
3. I have 19 days before I leave good ol’ Manille for my winter escapade and I’ve only sorted out 1 visa so far. I need to get 3 more tourist visas to my destinations and I only have about 2 weeks LEFT!!!!!! God knows if I get my visas in time. I may have to do some begging (so they’ll process my visa applications FAST) at the embassy.
I doubt they’ll do it though. I’m Mrs. John L. Nobody.
OHHHHH I FUCKING hate it.
The worst position next to "doggie style" is that one of being at the mercy of others.
Will my fabulous looks (yuck – go on then – make faces) and fantastic charm work with my visa interview officers/consul people so that I can fulfill my fall/winter 2005 escapade and return before Christmas?
Ugh! Just tell me I don’t look like this guy/these people. (BTW, I got this pic as it is FROM google. search for "illegal immigrant". No offense to people of the coloured kind. Hello – I’m a certified gook! I know what it’s like to be on BROWN ENTERTAINMENT TELEVISION)
These ones are courtesy of the BBC.
Where’s the fun in that?
The best part of travelling is going BACK HOME and all the PRETENTIOUS BRAGGING RIGHTS that come along with it. Let’s face it, anyone who fucking travels changes as soon as they get back.
"Oh darling, I went to so-and-so place, you have to go there!"
"OOOOOOOO The shopping is fantastic!"
"The food is to die for, you should go to so and so restaurant!"
"You have to see X, Y, Z"
Blah blah bullshit.
I love it though.
I’m guilty as charged.
I like to give myself a period of post-vacation bragging fun of about 2 weeks. Brag and blab to everyone I know – within a 2 week timeframe. Any bragging beyond those 2 weeks is pointless.
Funny I said that – I know of several people who keeps going on and on about where they went… even if the fact that the last time they went there was more than a DECADE ago.
Anyway, I’ll keep it "hush-hush" for now as to where I’m going.
I know I’m not supposed to buy plane tickets UNLESS the visas are approved but I’m an impatient mother fucker. I bought all my plane tickets, from one destination to the next, booked my hotels, etc. It will definitely help me budget. I know most fares go up at the last minute – it’s always better to book in advance. Besides, I *NEVER* fly economy. All my flights are on business and they’re fully changeable, refundable, etc. My losses, in the event I get denied, are gonna be miniscule.
Nevertheless, I’ll try my luck.
I mean, if I was meant to be denied, then I’ll be denied. If I was meant to be approved, then I’ll be approved. The world is such a huge place anyway. If I wasn’t meant to go to the places I want to go before Christmas, there’s always the mall.
I’ll update later. Promise.
(Afterall, it’s my blog’s 1 year ANNIVERSARY today.)
I love you all. Email firstname.lastname@example.org or SMS +63-915-785-1492.