Oh dear. I had serious palpitations earlier.
(image courtesy of LouisVuitton.com, LVMH)
Louis Vuitton will close Paris Fashion Week with a party to publicise its biggest store yet, opening on the Champs-Elysées on 10 October for a select clientele. A hundred "VICs" (very important clients) suspected of spending up to $200,000 a year on the luxury brand have been invited to mingle with celebrities for a preview of the store and the chance to buy limited-edition items. Sharon Stone, Serena Williams and Uma Thurman are expected to attend the event, which will comprise dinner and a visit to Vuitton’s museum in Asniéres. The opening coincides with the launch of Louis Vuitton’s online store. (26 August, 2005)
I won’t divulge anything as of yet… but… is it France or Russia this winter?
a) France: rush to the French Embassy PRONTO to apply for a tourist visa (funny how I talked about the damn visa thing yesterday), go to the travel agent, book business class airline tickets to Paris for only a 1-week stay, try to get a decent hotel suite (because of the fact that it’s fashion week, rooms at the top hotels are scarce), deprive myself of shopping, dining, going out, etc for an ENTIRE MONTH otherwise it would be no serious shopping (other than food, booze and presents) for me in Paris…
- MIGHT be able to go to LV’s hottest ticket this year (take note of the MIGHTY word MIGHT)
- COULD BE a once in a lifetime opportunity. Well, at least for now.
- Uma Thurman. OH. MY. GOD.
- 1-week stay only. my parents are gonna flip out cause it’s only last month that I left.
- can’t go all out on shopping (I shouldn’t have gone to HK!!!!!!!) cause last month’s bills haven’t even arrived yet!
- what’s a trip to Paris without spending big buckeroos at Louis Vuitton. Loulou de la Falaise. Colette. Hermes. Dior. Chanel?
- it would be very sad to come home empty-handed (like that would ever happen, knowing me, but still…)
- winter outfits gone to waste because of warm, tank top + cashmere cardigan, October weather
b) Russia: let this once in a lifetime opportunity pass, sulk for several months but revel in caviar, blinis, vodka, gorgeous Russian eye candy during hardcore winter wonderland because I know the fall/winter outfits that I bought on my recent shopping expedition (including my precious Fendi and Hermes down jacket) won’t go to waste… but I have to wait until Nov 17 to make that happen.
- no rush, no stress
- my hotel is FREE for 12 days in Moscow because I’ve racked up over 140,000 points on my Starwood Preferred Guest account. 10,000 points = 1 free night at the Moscow Sheraton.
- caviar, blinis, vodka
- pure winter wonderland escapade
- I’ll get to see my Russian friends whom I haven’t seen since last year
- I’ll get to use my Dior snow boots, Fendi, my furs, my Hermes down jacket
- my Russian friends can finally teach me snowboarding (I’m REALLY LOOKING FORWARD TO THIS)
- I’ll get to visit North Russia where nuclear submarines are at
- very litte shopping (not set in stone cause I’ll be on a 1-day stopover in HK for last minute necessity buying) which leaves me more opportunities for next year, i.e. NYC on either Jan/Feb or Mar.
- MIGHT miss LV’s hottest ticket this year
- COULD ONLY BE a once in a lifetime opportunity. Well, at least for now.
- Uma Thurman. OH. MY. GOD.
As I’ve said, I’m not divulging any more details unless I get my act together.
And before you start bombarding me with messages of temptation of doing BOTH, no, it can’t be both this year.
Some of us have other important things to do, such as stay within the allocated "number of days Bryan is gone away from home" quota.
God I hate decision-making.
My head is spinning. I think I need a tranquilizer of some sort, like, pronto.
I just remembered that I need to lick my parents’ ass so I can move out NEXT MONTH. Enough with procrastinating.
That’s right. I need to work on my plan on how I’m gonna get my familia de horreur AKA parentals to say:
"Yes, Bryan, we won’t have any hard feelings if you move out of the infamous birdcage. Spread your wings dear son and fly. Fly! Fly! Fly to your new pad."
With the Paris option, how
am I are they going to cope?
My parentals will go straight to Asian hospital for cardiac arrest if I told them I want to move out in about 2-3 weeks AND go to Paris afterwards.
I’ll update you guys in a couple of hours. I’m 12 hours overdue for an article I’m writing. I need to finish it first before I start doing my cheesemax.
Be sure to visit later.
By the meantime, email me bitches! firstname.lastname@example.org.
I thought I’d do one last whinge before I get some serious skin-tightening beauty sleep on my Pratesi-covered mattresses.
Ever since I started this blog, I’ve received far too many emails from you, my dear readers, on how I should come visit you for some serious R & R: reckless recreation.
We all know that geography is no boundary when it comes to my fans. Who knew there’s internet access in friggin Zimbabwe? Who knew I have fans who live in Ecuador? Even folks from Winnipeg, Alberta and Littleton, Colorado, they’re all feeding themselves with verbal diarrhea coming from my little third world rectum.
As much as I’d want to visit each and every one of you, one should realize that 99% of all the countries (and that includes friggin Iraq and Afghanistan) in the world show their disgust every time they see this snot-colored piece of document that we, citizens of the brown, the l’exotique and the natives, are born with.
That’s right bitches.
Immigration officials, visa officers, diplomats and consular services representatives wordwide frown upon anyone who holds the above-pictured passport because of all the bad deeds our ancestors did, dating back when the passport got invented.
You probably won’t believe the number of citizens of this third world hell hole cesspit would do anything just to get out of the country PERMANENTLY and ILLEGALY.
And it’s fucking true.
All the stereotypes you’ve heard from your neighbour are correct.
For instance, did you know that ALL Filipinos have some sort of a relative… or a distant relative, living in the United States of the Democrats, the Republicans and the Damned?
People from my land, the land of clear blue skies, coconut trees, weather la tropicale and boring malls would do anything just to get out of the country? It doesn’t matter whether they marry a sex-starved pensioner from Europe or smuggle themselves in cheap nylon suitcases one body part at a time: a lot of people will find a way just to get out… and most of them did.
What’s even worse are illegal immigrants who are a drain to a foreign government’s resources: benefits and welfare scroungers.
So here I am, a model citizen, suffering the consequences of my fellow shitizens.
Each and every god damn country in this planet now requires a friggin visa before allowing us to breathe oxygen in their country.
Some visas are easy to get, particularly the ones where no one from my country usually go to: India, China, Mongolia, etc, while most embassies now require us to give our entire lives documented in paper: bank statements, credit card statements, income tax returns, proof of assets, house & car titles, letters from our employers or proof of our businesses and everything else that you can think of.
And yes, they even want your first born child… or your bed sheet thread count if you’re impotent.
Now I don’t mind giving out such paperwork if I wanna go to a full blown shopping and reckless recreation expedition but doing so each and every time I want to go somewhere (or getting one visa after another one expires) is a fuckin hassle.
The documents are one thing but what’s worse is the drama dealing with the embassies.
Waking up at some ungodly hour just to submit your application at the embassy is one thing.
Queueing for hours is another thing.
And having incessant chit chat with someone who wants to pry on your personal life is another…although I have to give everyone credit for not asking me my guilty pleasures, the number of people I’ve slept with and the number of times I got my hair coloured in the past.
When one of my gal pals went to a European city last year for around 2 weeks, the local embassy took around 3 weeks to a month just to process her visa application… and the embassy had her passport the whole time!
Most of these embassies employ hardcore snob-to-the-max Filipino administrative assistants who would give you the cold shoulder as if you’re a mere pleb when in reality they should be the ones hailing you because of the economic benefit they’ll get from you when you spend your dosh at their local shoppingeries.
I guess one should never forget that there are still citizens such as myself who loves living in the land of the brown, the l’exotique and the natives.
Why would I want to live somewhere else when I’m living like a fucking queen here?
I have drivers (alright, crappy, dumb drivers), I have maids.
I have Vuitton suitcases and Chanel shades.
I never fly economy
Because I hate the sound of ‘mommy’
I don’t want your fucking jobs
Coz my dry cleaning bills are worth more than your handbag!
There goes my singer/songwriting skills. Now you know why I’ll never make it to the R&B section of your local music store.
It’s true though… I’ll never, ever, ever give up whatever I have here just to live anywhere else.
Going on holidays and vacations are fine, but knock-knock-cliche-snap-snap-reality, there’s no such place like home.
So yeah, if you want me to visit your country, go ahead and write to your government and ask them to friggin waive the visa requirement for model citizens such as myself.
Otherwise screw you cause I’ll only go where the wind blows.
My Pratesi and rivotril are waiting are for me. Good night/morning/afternoon everyone! email@example.com or +63-915-785-1492 if you need me.