I’m in love. New Versace bags are in, fresh from the
boat … er… gondola from Italy.
I’m not a big Versace fan. Why? It’s just not me. I’m more of a Dior bitch.
Versace’s for prostitutes and mafia wives really.
But this one is an exception. Even the name is fucking brilliant: Chaos Couture Snap Out of It. US$1,545 @ Eluxury.com.
It’s gorgeous. I want it. It’s screaming my name. I haven’t seen Versace bags THIS gorgeous in a long time.This one will definitely go to my to-do lists. Think, think, think. Snap, snap, snap.
I’ll think about it. God I’m so tempted to buy this one. Think how gorgeous it is — it looks soo nice with a plain black or white tank top, some fitted jeans, some black flip flops and some Chanel glasses. Gorgeous. So so gorgeous! My account will nag at me though. Speaking of which, I spoke to her earlier this afternoon and talked about filling taxes early this year. She also wants all my receipts from last year’s expenses. Thank god I run my own business and not employed, otherwise she wouldn’t be able to deduct my shopping as "representation expenses" and "gifts".
Welcome to the Philippines though. As if you’d get audited by the taxing authorities. Even politicians underdeclare their incomes. At least I don’t.
This is the only country in the world, I guess, where you can classify US$4,000 sprees at Chanel as "charitable donations/deductions".
Hey… I’d take Chanel, or in this case, Versace, as a donation to my wardrobe. It suffered extreme hassle, emotional distress, pain and mental suffering from the tsunami. I just hope I get a piece of that US$1Billion dollar pie the United Nations is talking about.
Forgive me father for I have sinned.
I admit. I’m not the type of person who usually watches TV. I refuse to have a TV set in my room. I’m so anti-TV. I like to shelter myself from the evils of cheap, commercial culture for the masses. The television is for people who cannot entertain themselves by doing "normal" stuff. The only time I’ll make an exception is whenever I watch a movie (DVD) or when Paris Hilton is there (that’s not watching TV… that’s getting education) or whenever I watch CNN.
For the past 3 weeks now, I found myself watching the TV more and more. Normal TV shows for normal people. I’d say I now spend around 1 hour a day watching TV. Although yes, you will never see me sit in front of the damn set for 30 consecutive minutes, I’ve discovered all sorts of shows… and commercials.
There’s this one commercial that has been all over the place – McDonald’s Beef Prosperity chu chu thing. I swear it’s on every 5 minutes whatsoever.
I have a love-hate relationship with McD’s. Generally, I despise em. After all, McD’s is to blame for all the god-forsakened fat people all over the world. McD’s is pretty much the mecca of all fatdommeccas: this is where the word FAT got invented.
Anyway, look at Asians as an example.
For years, we have been stereotyped as the chinky-eyed, short shorty midget-y, submissive, fuckwhoring bitches to dirty-old-hairy-fat-white-trash gorillas.
While Asian females are fantasized upon as real,
live, human sex toys, Asian males fall into 2
categories: either you’re a kung-fu flighting, black-
belted, ching chong man ala <insert Asian action
person here> or the short yet lanky straight-A
But ever since McDonald’s invaded the continent decades ago, things have changed.
Whenever I go out to the scene these days, there’s an abundance of tall Asian kids. I’m just as tall as my brother, and I’m 5’9. He’s 15 years old and still growing… and no doubt he’ll be taller than me. The heights 5’11 and 6-foot is starting to become extremely common. Fine… perhaps the odd 6-foot-7 male types are still rare here but everyone seems to be tall these days… particularly the young ones. Heck, I even know 2 girls who are at least 6-foot tall. And yes, they’re Filipino natives… originally from rural areas.
And there’s only one reason to blame. McDonald’s.
So yeah — this Beef Prosperity commercial made a huge impact in this household. Everyone had seen it for god knows how many times. The total airtime it had in our heads is probably longer than a 180-minute movie.
Early this afternoon, my mom, my sister and I had enough. Right after watching yet another commercial, we all had this desperate craving churning in our stomachs.
We didn’t even bothered to beautify ourselves. Usually, we’ll never step out of the house gate wearing house clothes. It is a must for us to look our very best even if we are stepping out a mere 2 inches outside the house. Today was an exception — to hell with taking a shower, spending 2 hours on what to wear, etc… we just have to taste the nectar of that that well-publicized Beef Prosperity thing.
Wearing plain house clothes and armed with the Visa card, all three of us asked the driver to bring us to the nearest McDonald’s, about 5 minutes from our house.
My mom stayed inside the car while my sister and I went in. I swear to god, going inside the doors of McDonald’s was like entering the gates of hell… errr a frying pan. My brain was filled with mental images of lard and frying oil.
I had intense hallucinations that I’m turning into the Nutty Professor, with the Ronald McDonald’s mascot giving me the fuck-you finger.
As we arrived to the counter, we placed our order.
* 8 Beef Prosperity Burgers (2 for me, 2 for my mom, 1 for my sister Grace, 1 for my brother, 1 for my other sister Genie and 1 for our driver)
* 1 Double Cheese Burger (for my sister Grace)
* 2 Large French Fries (for Grace and me)
* 1 Large Twister Fries (for Grace and my mom)
* 2 x 6-piece Chicken Nuggets (for Genie and me)
* 1 Oreo McFlurry (for Grace and my mom)
* 1 Large Coke
The verdict: Beef Prosperity burger was a complete disappointment. It had bad odour.
As soon as you unwrap the thing, it reeked of
this onion smell (because of the onions), similar to
sweaty, filthy armpits of Eurotrash people.
Also, there was way too much pepper on it. Beef prosperity indeed — it was prosperous with spices you’d think it came all the way from India from the Tsunami.
I know I’m not supposed to be making sensitive jokes after 100,000+ people died but seriously, they should’ve named this the Tsunami Leftover. The burger must be one of those things that reached our shores.
The only good thing that came out of this mini trip to McDonald’s was the fact that I bought one of those happy-meal child toys for $1.03 (58 Filipino bucks).
My sister and I have been looking for big, fuzzy cellphone charms that you can hook at the bottom of your cellphone. Currently, I have a small cat thing I got from a flea market. I used to have the $75 Gucci handbag cellphone charm but I lost it in Moscow. And now I want a bigger, fuzzy doll-like cellphone charm.
Both of us fell in love with the mini stuffed toys the first time we saw them at the counter. There’s about 18 of them I think. I got the gold monkey while my sister bought the pink pig. They’re kinda cute-ish. But alas, they didn’t fit my phone.
Oh good lord. I am so careless sometimes.
My dad wanted to print some documents so he went to my room to pick up the docs on my printer. While he’s waiting for the paperwork to print, he saw my blog in its full glory on my browser window. He read some of the entries… I’m sure not all, cause I was gone for a few minutes. When I came back, he said how I’m very bitchy and I’m wicked.
Eeew eeew eeew. I’m not bitchy. I’m nice and sweet.
I can’t believe how he can just read my blog like that. I mean, it’s not displayed on my monitor cause I have other browser windows opened but he just fiddled around and opened my blog.
I just hope he’s tipsy enough not to remember the URL. The last thing I want is my dad to be reading my journal.
I’m 18 (+4) years old for god’s sake.
Back to business.
I had my regular glycopeel cleaning and facial done earlier today, as well as a long-overdue power peel session. God knows what kind of germs and how many dead skin cells I have on my face, and I haven’t had a facial since I arrived.
The receptiobitch at my doctor’s office was such a liar.
My appointment is at 4PM so me and my sister left the house early. At around 4:05, we were trying to find a place to park. Little miss Pinocchia called to follow up and asked "It’s already 4:25PM, do you still want to keep your appointment?". Then my sister said, "Yes, we’re already here in the parking lot, we’re just looking for a place to park."
When I looked at my watch, it was around 4:05 or 4:06. When my sister looked at hers, it was 4:06. When she looked at her phone, it was 4:08. When I looked at the car, it was 4:10.
Me and my sis quickly rushed to the clinic, which was about a 1 minute walk from the parking lot. When we arrived, we said we were there for our appointments and my sister looked at the BIG CLOCK on the wall. It said 4:10.
Clearly this receptiobitch was lying scum. 4:25PM my arse. She must be newly-hired because the previous receptiobitch has been gone for some time and I assume she got fired. Besides, it is perfectly acceptable for us to be late, as long as it’s no later than 15 minutes… actually, who cares. It is perfectly acceptable for us to be late. Period. Ok… well.. maybe within reason. The head honcho (owner) is, Dr. Vicky Belo, who is my sister’s best friend’s aunt. We can go to all of her clinics whenever we want, ask whatever we want and get everything that we want. She didn’t call me her best-dressed patient for nothing. Whatever watch or clock we use (as long as it’s not the car’s cause it’s fucked up), we were still in the time frame.
Since we were at the mall, I needed to do some shopping. Nothing major, just a quick trip to flex my card. I bought a new alarm clock because I’ve developed resistance to my Nokia. I also bought some cigarettes, 2 books by Sophie Kinsella: Shopaholic & Sister… and Shopaholic Ties the Knot, 2 belts, 2 plain black t-shirts, 1 plain white t-shirt and 2 sleeveless tops (same style, different colors) at Topshop. Boy I love Topshop. It’s soo dirt cheap it’s not even funny. Topshop is the ultimate in cheap clothing, like GAP. You can have racks and racks of their clothes, use them once, twice or thrice and donate them to charity. You can never have enough of their stuff. Really. Go to Top Shop.
ROOM TO USE MY PRINTER AND HE
FOUND MY BLOG ON MY BROWSER.
NO DOUBT HE READ SOME OF THE ENTRIES.
I HATE IT. I REALLY REALLY DO.
AND ALL HE SAID WAS "YOU’RE BITCHY AND
GO AWAY BABYSITTER!!!!
I have to admit I’m not really a fan of so-called "sales" because leftovers are bad for your health. But this one is an exception…
Thank god I added the Fendi Zucchino Sneaker (size 40.5) into my shopping bag about 2 weeks ago or else someone would’ve bought the sneaker in my size.
Apparently, whatever item you added into your shopping cart with Eluxury.com, it stays there for 30 days. It automatically gets subtracted to their inventory as if you already reserved/purchased an item. For instance… if everything on the site says it’s sold out but you have 1 item on your cart, that 1 and only item in your shopping cart is the last item… and it’s yours! Once you removed the item from your cart, it automatically goes out to the "pool" so someone else can buy that item.
Buy your Fendi Zucchino Sneakers now before they’re gone.
It’s sooo dirt cheap. What’s like $230?…
Weekend booze money if you ask me.
Anyway, off to work I go. It’s 5AM here and I’ve got lots of emails to catch up. Did I say I *hate* Mondays and Tuesdays? Ugh.
After much contemplation, I’ve decided I’m not gonna be able to fulfill my promise to my Russian friends that I’ll come back to Moscow/SPB sometime on February.
Let’s face it, I’m no Hilton grandchild with a 9-digit trust fund. If I were to go to Russia next month, I’ll only have a couple of weeks to save $$$ — and I haven’t even received the credit card bills for all the Christmas shopping I did.
Earlier this morning, I was exploring my options. One of my new year’s resolutions is to visit at least 2 countries I’ve never been to before. Last year it was Russia… and boy a lot of my friends suffered from months of constant whingeing on how I want to go there badly etc… and then come October, bam, I was there.
This year, well, I want to go (again) somewhere "not normal".
For quite some time, I toyed around going to Ecuador, where New York Circuit Boy Fabian Basabe is from. If Ecuador made cute guys like him, then there’s probably an abundance of similar-looking guys where he came from. And yes, even if he does look like a retard sometimes, I think he’s hot… hot, hot, hot, hot, HOT!.
Can you seriously imagine me going to Ecuador?
Heck, I don’t even know where it is on the map. South America, definitely. But who cares.
2 other countries sprang to mind.
Turkey and New Zealand.
I’m no longer keeping it a secret that I kinda find
"Arabicishbutnotfullblownmosquegoingarabic" looking guys cute.
Yes, yes, I know, I know. When I was in London, I just mince and walk past their quaint kebab shops all over Edgeware Road. Some of them are hot looking, some are not — you know, the gorillabackhair types. I like the young, under-25 ones. They are really cute… and hot. Especially if they don’t have fullblown facial hair… just light stubble and the likes.
I’ve only been with 1 Turkish guy in my entire life and he was gifted… extremely gifted "down there". He wasn’t that bad looking either.
Plus, I saw this program on CNN ages ago and Turkey seems to be a safe place now that they’re "Europe". I give them A+ for Effort.
And why New Zealand? I really don’t know.
WHO THE HELL GOES TO NEW ZEALAND?
It’s far. It’s something "new" and god knows whether it’s civilized (i.e. cute boys, loads of good shopping, nice hotels, nice clubs, etc) down there or not.
I’ve never met a New Zealand person in my entire life and I know some beef and milk came from New Zealand. The Asia-Pacific version of the classic Wales sheep shaggers, perhaps? Who knows.
So if you were me, where would you go?
Turkey… or New Zealand?
Istanbul or Queenstown?
Ankara or Wellington?
I wish you all a prosperous 2005.
20 more minutes and it’s January 1.
Another crappy number to be added to my age.
Is there such a thing such as a time freeze? You know, botox for calendar, that sort of thing?
Happy new year to all of you.
Track of the moment: "Ever After" by Bonnie Bailey (HedKandi Beach House 0404) Click the play button to hear it.
After a rather short 6 nights, I’m finally back to civilization. No more sea, sun and sand. No more cute Australian teens, pale, fat Brits and hairy Eurotrash people with their $3 prostitutes to see.
There’s so much stuff to tell but I really don’t know where or how to begin. I’ll just make a list and hopefully you’ll have an idea of what I’ve been up to etc.
1) Never, ever get drunk in front of your dad.
2) Never, ever tag a sibling along whenever you flirt with guys.
3) Never, ever tag a sibling along whenever a guy flirts with you.
4) Never, ever flirt with a hot, young, sexuality-unknown, Australian guy on holiday with his mom, dad, sister and a gay, blonde, acne-infested, pimple-faced brother. In fact, don’t even bother flirting with people who go on holidays with their families. You won’t just won’t go anywhere despite both of you wanting something to happen.
5) The older one wearing a baseball cap. Thorton family. Your mom gave you a back rub on the motor boat. You also helped the porter lift my Vuitton suitcase so it won’t get wet cause the sea waves were hitting em. Whoever you are, you’re hot. You’re really fucking hot. Go online when you get back home in Australia, go to google, search for your family name and then Boracay… and then email me… and then let’s fuck sometime. You can fuck me good and hard. So much for wishful thinking.
6) DO NOT UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES WAKE UP AT 6 IN THE MORNING.
7) This is the first holiday I had in my entire life when my 1:00 AMs were spent sleeping. A boring, fat, not-into-clubbing, sister to tag along with you is NEVER, I repeat, NEVER, EVER fun. Especially when her idea of fun is raiding the mini bar for snacks and watching boring HBO flicks at night. Her boring habits will easily rub off into you and you’ve got no choice but to spend the night in as well cause you don’t want to go out on your own.
Anyway, first batch of pictures are finally here. I’ve got more to upload tomorrow. I’ve got literally over 1,200 emails (work etc) to sift thru and I’m gonna do an all-nighter today.
Click the photo strip above to go to my photo album.
Here’s my fave picture of em all:
Ciao for now!