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12 entries categorized "Love Life"

June 13, 2007

Sad, sad, sad.

Sad, sad, sad.


I have one thing to say. Never trust men. They're all bastards. Lipstick lesbians for the mother fucking win!

OK, I take that back. Never trust men who are poor or take public transport.

April 22, 2007

Abercrombie and Bitch

Abercrombie and Bitch

I'm currently in the middle 'spring cleaning'-ing my closet. There's just soo much shit there it's not even funny anymore. I got invited to a little charity auction thing and I want to donate a few odd bits here and there. I assume they want something "of value" so I can't really donate some of the cum-stained underwear I collected over the years. Hah!

042107_robSpeaking of corn-fed generic boresville jock hunks, I found an ex-bf's old Abercrombie and Bitch hoodie somewhere at the back of my closet. If my memory serves me right, this thing stayed there for YEARS and haven't seen the light of day (or laundry detergent for that matter) since we broke up. He was this huge, blond guy and back then, I weighed no more than 90 pounds... oh the memories.

I'm not sure if it's just me but I think there's something erotic WITH THE SMELL. In spite of years of third world humidity, dust and god knows what, I swear to god, his scent is still lingering on the garment. The attention whore in me says that I should do a little post with photos of my ex-boyfriends and all the dirty deeds we did like that entry I made about some of my previous conquests but my heart tells me that I should protect the innocent, especially the ones who, at one point, I loved... and in some cases, I still love.

Oh shush.

I bet you'll agree with me on this one though -- there's something oh so utterly comforting about wearing ex-bfs' clothes.... you just want to sit on the couch or curl up, watch dvds and pig out, no?

October 05, 2006

Love is a game.. drives me insane

Love is a game.. it drives me insane

Love is a game... it drives me insane. I feel no shame and won't take no blame.

Before I begin with my usual spiel, let me tell you that my "111" (one pill, one fruit cup and one glass of milk a day) diet didn't work for me. It was terrible. It fucked my head up completely. I spent the entire time popping sleeping pills because I got dizzy all the time from the lack of food. That's why I haven't updated my blog recently. Well, that and the bollocking typhoon too.

Continue reading "Love is a game.. drives me insane" »

March 14, 2006

Salma is Evil!!!!!, "My Name is Mark", Bryanboy Loves.. and Random Cheesemax


The Oscars might be well over but that Salma Hayek person is still making my blood boil. She stole my Nancy G. python minaudiere and used it at the Oscars.


Mrs. T. emailed me with proof.

Ugh!!! I *HATE* celebs like her. They have access to everything, including access to SERIOUS unlimited funds that allows them to buy even MORE exclusive and expensive things.

I seriously hate it.

Poor, third world highly-pretentious mortals with no money like me buy "affordable" and luxurious things to delude ourselves into thinking/feeling that we're rich, yet here's a multi-millionaire actress, who's got even more money than me and full-frontal fashion access to designers and stylists, ruining everything.

I still can't believe that Salma bitch cherry-picked MY cheap-ass US$600 gold python clutch!


Shit, put me in her shoes and I'd be totting a swarovski-encrusted Judith Leiber.


Put me in her shoes and I'd have a friggin minaudiere CUSTOM-MADE for me. Something absolutely ridiculous and vulgar (to match my Atelier Versace dress), dripping with diamonds and precious stones.

But no... little Miss Mexican bitch used a cheap $600 gold python box instead on Hollywood's most glamorous night.


Ugh!!!!!! What a travesty.


"My name is Mark"

031306_mememeSaturday was a bitch - my driver was totally incommunicado the entire afternoon/early evening. This is the same guy who slept in my cheap ass car on the parking lot of my favourite club not too long ago. He's the reason why I still have emotional scars from dressing up like a whoring transvestite in 7-inch platform hooker shoes... he made me wait outside the club for an ENTIRE HOUR. Clubgoers prolly thought I was a hooker... at least 7 guys asked for my name and why I was leaving so early etc. Bah!!!!

Enough about the past. The driver you dialled is not yet in service. Please check your driver and try again.

I was supposed to go to a local couturier's fitting session on Saturday afternoon. I also got invited to a fantastic party thrown by my friends at Motorola and I was also supposed to go to an acquaintance's 'Rock n' Roll" wedding bash.

I ended up going out, straight to La Embajada, at 12:30AM feeling shit.

The only thing that made my night was the fact that my one of my best fag hags/nonsexual wife is back in town from NY.

Boy I drank far too much on Saturday. I probably had NO less than a dozen drinks. The double vodka red bulls kept coming and coming.

At the end of the night, Hannah was sitting on my lap and we were kanoodling like lesbians on crack.

I don't wanna be known as the dirty heterosexual person pretending to be a fag just to get girls.

You know, I think I might be a lesbian (or bisexual) female with a dick.

I mean, when you look at it, I like handbags. I like lip gloss. I wear some girl's clothes. I love shopping. I'm obsessed about having a body of a prepubescent 10 year old male that only supermodels like Gemma Ward have. 


And then there's my love affair with watching straight porn.

No guy in this hideous town of Manila turns me on anymore. As I've said before, I have to go somewhere else to get some action. How crazy is that? I can't believe I'm a sex tourist at such young age when REAL sex tourists should be paying me to get their poles touch my prostate.

Bah. Whenever I see a gorgeous girl, I like to point em out to my friends and say silly things like "oh, look at her tits" or "her bum is big" or "look she's skinny". When I see a cute guy here I just say "oh, ok, he's cute, so what. next!"

Anyway, enough about my sexuality. You know deep down that nothing can beat the feeling of a hard, thick, throbbing, 8 or 9-inch dick up your poop chute.

There was this cute and really nice fellow who came up to me and asked whether I'm Bryanboy. I told him nope, sorry and my name is Mark.

The three of us had incessant chat until he dropped the bomb whether "Hannah" is "Hannah". I told him her name is "Anna". HAHAHA. Busted!

Hannah then asked the guy "are you gay?". The guy said yeah he's gay. I was laughing sooo hard I was pinching Hannah's arm.

Obviously the guy is gay. But he's not effeminate like me.

Shit, I'm the gayest gay that ever gayed; I am soo fucking gay I sweat GLITTER.

God... Hannah and I got sooo drunk last Saturday.

The two of us went outside and saw the guy leaving along with his friends. I screamed something like "Psst, don't you have manners? Aren't you gonna introduce us to your friends?"

That was crazy. HAH! I love it.

I bet you a million dollars they're talking about how intoxicated and insane I was. HAHAHAHAHA!

See, to all you people out there, male or female, just say hi to me god dammit. I don't bite.

Hannah you wench, we're having dinner on Wednesday.   

Bryanboy Loves... and Random Cheesemax

#1 - Bryanboy loves people from Swansea, ONT Canada, Letchworth, Norfolk UK, Hamilton, Bermuda, Livonia, MI, Hanna City, IL, Eatontown, NJ, Louth, Ireland, Catania, Sicily Italy, Oxie, Sweden, Krimpen Aan Den Ijssel, Holland, Brussels, Belgium, Novate Milanese, Lombardia Italy and of course, all the gorgeous people who live in Helsinborg, Sweden. I love each and every one of you. To all the gorgeous boys who live in those areas, come to mama and open up your fly.

#2 - First it was Karl Lagerfeld now it's Marc Jacobs. What is it with designers and their hot, hot, hot boy toys? Do I have to be a fucking designer in order to get a hottie these days?

Eeew. I don't even know how to draw!!! Not even stick people!

Anyway, meet Marc Jacobs' boyfriend. He's got Marc's name tattooed on his arm. He's a rent boy, btw, charging US$225 per hour. Click here AND here to read more.


Shit, if only male prostitutes in the third world look like that I'd be buying them like candy. And to think, he's not really THAT hot. He's ok, but not that hot. He's worth the US$225 per hour price tag though.

Curious what a third world male gigolo looks like? Here's one that I found at one of the forums at He's 5'7, 125lbs. He'll let you "suck him for all you want and he'll fuck you really good".



Um... ok.... whatever.

#3 - My shoes just arrived today! All I can say is, I'm DOOMED!

You see, I'm throwing a birthday bash soon and I'm gonna dress up to the nines... couture dress and all. Yes mother fuckers, I'm having a dress made SPECIFICALLY for me and this is my first ever couture dress. It's about time for god's sake, considering I'm turning 17 before the month ends!!!

Anyway, my Chloe and Choos arrived earlier this morning and I think they're a little small. I need a miracle to pull this off on my big day. The Chloe is a size 40 (which is a size 10) and the Jimmy Choo is a size 11.

THIS IS RIDICULOUS!!!! I'm a size 10 (American) on Frye boots and a size 40 on my Dior ski boots and they fit me well good and loose but my new shoes seems to be small. Ok, they're not small as in I can't fit on them... it's just that they fit really tight and I'm scared I'll get a shitload of blisters and callouses from wearing em.

I called my nonsexual wife, Hannah and she told me I should break em... you know, walk around the house wearing em. I wish it was that easy babe. I don't wanna see the look on my dad's face when he catches me sashaying in the living room with my choos. Having a gay child is bad enough, watching your first born son parade in 5-inch sandals is worse.

That's my first ever pair of Jimmy Choos. HAHAHHAHAHA! Now I know why women are so obsessed about shoes... Choos are amazing!

BUYING A PAIR OF JIMMY CHOOS IS WAY BETTER THAN GETTING A SEX CHANGE!!! Who needs a vagina? I'm telling you with my brand spanking new designer shoes, my transformation is complete. Bryanboy is NOW a fuckin woman.

Eew. I still like my penis, thanks very much.

#4 - I take back whatever I said about me not buying Dior this summer. I don't care what you think but this bag is instant gratification for me. I called my sales associate at Bergdorf Goodman and the bag is actually OLIVE GREENish with brown undertones and not brown. $1,995 for this beautiful, beautiful piece.


After watching the Fall/Winter 06/07 RTW Dior video I feel bad for not getting the white one. The gaucho bag is THE Dior bag of 2006. Anyway, it's available at eLuxury... so if you're thinking of getting me a birthday present, The white lambskin gaucho bag is the perfect bag to buy me. :)

Since we're still on the subject of Dior, what is up with Dior copying Gucci? The silhouettes are obviously different but the "style"/"concept" is pretty much the same.



It's fashion eh?

031306_luxurybychanel#5 - Chanel boutiques all over the USA launched the "Luxury by Chanel" bag line on Saturday, March 11. Be sure to snap the bowling bags. The last time I bought bowling bags was back in the dark, Prada ages. The Luxury by Chanel bowling bags are available in different colors: beige, coral, red, black, metallic gold, metallic silver (dark silver) and denim. The medium-sized metallic bags are priced at US$2,160.

#6 - What is up with people sending me life quotes via SMS? I think it's a Filipino thing for people to send quotes by cellphone. HELLLLO!!! If I want a quote I'd go to a chinese restaurant and buy fortune cookies! Anyway, I really appreciate people sending me messages but for the life of god, all you need to do really is to tell me you love me.... or tell me who you are, or if you're rich, if you're well-hung or if you're gonna buy me a Boucheron watch. HAHAHAHA *kidding*. In the past few days, I've received quotes like:

"Learn to love the person who is willing to love you at present. Forget the person and the past and thank him/her for hurting you which led you to love the person you have now."

"Sometimes you have to just forget the rules, follow your heart and see where it takes you. Never apologize for saying what you feel because that's like saying sorry for being real. Never regret anything you said or did because at some point, it was what you wanted. True strength is being able to hold it all together when everyone else is expecting you to fall apart."

(omg btw that is so true. hah! next)

"You only got one life so live it well. One heart so take good care. One soul, keep it pure. One girlfriend? how common."

"I'll never be perfect. I'll never be the best. But one thing I'm sure is I'm perfectly true in giving the best of me just to be a real friend to you."

"Life is a walk of faith in the LORD - full of surprises yet fulfilling. Full of tests yet rewarding... and full of trials yet strengthenin! God bless you. Good PM!"

Enough already! LOL. I really appreciate these quotes but please stop it. I hate those text messages, especially the ones where you have to do a lot of scrolling just to read the next line. I think people are trying to make me lose weight by keeping me tied up on the phone. ;)

If you're gonna send me a message, say hi, tell me about yourself, how you found my blog, how you love me, how you're gonna find me a gorgeous sugar daddy no older than 30 who will buy me my first Rochas gown and Roger Vivier stilettos. HAHAHAHAHAHA!

#7 - I want to be this girl's NEW BFF so I'll tag along to her shopping sprees and she'll buy me everything what I want out of sheer jealousy. Meet Hind Hariri, a 22 year old billionaire from Lebanon. She's the youngest person on the Forbes List. Hind baby if you're reading my blog, can I just say I'm willing to ditch everything that I have just to be your best friend? Buy me a shitload of Hermes croc birkins in every imaginable color and I'll be your confidante for life.

Now that's what I call an heiress... with a double chin. Like me!!!!

Babe, just a piece of advice, dye your hair light brown and take up bulimia or liposuction PRONTO. You need to give Nicole Richie a run for her $200 Million.

Bah! I've been feeling a bit icky the past few days it's not even funny. There's something in the air you know.

Anyway, I'm gonna celebrate my 17th birthday in a couple of days and I'm soo fucking stressed. One of my very good friends pretty much did MOST of the legwork for our birthday party (on top of her ultra busy schedule) and I tremendously owe it to her.

I think that's all for now. I'm gonna start working on Podcast #4. It's been quite awhile since I last did a podcast and I know you're all waiting for it.


Remember boys and girls: only John Galliano walks the runway with bodyguards in tow.

I love you all. Email or SMS +63-915-785-1492.



PS. Discuss this blog post here.

February 25, 2006

Envy... Envy Me, Beautiful Day, This is Summer

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.

February 04, 2006

Red is the Color of Love, Good Governance

Red is the Color of Love


10 more days and it's Valentine's Day. My ugly little brown ass is still single, just like it had always been (for the past 3-4 years).

I'm not being demanding. In fact, I'm probably the most reasonable person EVER.

I'm not even asking for a boyfriend. All I'm asking for is a date with a tall, cute guy who will buy me expensive dinner, expensive champagne and give me a tiny red box with a large shiny gift from Cartier.

ZagzagzagAnyway, I was cropping the latest batch of photos and I suddenly remembered (OUT OF NOWHERE) an online chat conversation I had with a French one-night stand. I met him a couple of days before I left Paris; we now talk on MSN (webcams and all) every once in a while.

Here's how the conversation went:

Me: You know what's weird? The older I seem to get, the younger guys I attract. I hate it. I need a nice man to protect me, not a friggin fetus. All of the guys I get these days are young ones.

Him: You get old... so they're looking for a sugar daddy.

Me: Some of these guys have disposable incomes so I'm sure that's not the case. But maybe you're right. The young ones tend to be attracted to me because of what they see. They think I have money. Oh I hate it. I could never win in this game.

Him: Hahahaha! You are NOT classic enough for the old guy. You are too fashionable. LOL.

Me: I am not "too fashion"

Him: But you are young and young people are like that. Older guys, they want Ralph Lauren Polo and gray pants. SOMEONE THEY CAN SHOW TO THEIR PARENTS LOL

I wanted to slap the mother fucker right then and there.

When you think about it, maybe he's right.

Perhaps that's the reason why I've been single all along. I'm sooo OUTRé! I am soo in-your-face. Everything about me is distinct: my drug-fucked drag queen voice, my in-your-face clothes, my scary eyes, my trademark onion bulb nose etc.


Maybe... just maybe... I'm good enough for a fuck.

Maybe two fucks. maybe three fucks.

No, make that four fucks.

Shit, I'm probably even good enough as a mistress... or someone in a relationship would cheat with.


But will I ever be good enough to be shown to someone's parents, cigarettes, bad makeup, warts and all?


I don't know.

Nobody has tried!


Perhaps the Frenchman was right this time.

Oh well. I'll tone down when I get my Senior Citizen Discount card.


By the meantime, I hope you enjoyed my paparazzi-style pics. I really need a full-time paparazzi to be on call on my shameless self-promotion PR shots. Hah! Anyone willing to take my photos for free? Email me. I have nothing to give other than sexual favours.

Good Governance

Believe it or not, it's been quite awhile since I've set foot inside a gay bar/club here in the third world.

Government reopened its doors last night after a quick renovation and it was the perfect time to do a "GAY NIGHT" with gay friends and acquaintances.




Bah, everyone is gay these days anyway. There's the gay-curious brigade, the gay-acting straights, the gays-in-denial... the list goes on and on.


I had soo much fun yesterday... considering I only went out for no more than 3 HOURS! I lost a ton of weight from all that sweating, dancing and roaming I did around the club. I remember getting there at around 1:30AM and I got home at no later than 4:30! It was speed-clubbing at its finest.

Bryanboy Loves... and Random Cheesemax

#1 - Bryanboy loves people from Lancaster, Blackpool, UK, Houston, TX, Manama, Bahrain, Camberwell, VIC, Australia, Stettenberg, Bayern Germany, Moriyacho, Kanagawa Japan, Istanbul, Turkey, Oviedo, FL, Loughborough, UK, Lersen, Staden Kobenhavn Denmark, Tempe, NSW Australia, Malmo, Sweden, Boulogne-Billancourt, France, Askim, Norway, Tokyo, Japan and of course, all my friends from Micarone, Abruzzi Italyyyyyy! I love each and every one of you. Say hi, don't be shy!

#2 - Big shout out to Altair Drexel of Kelowna, BC Canada! No... I haven't seen Bareback Mountain yet. Feel free to burn my toes with a cigarette... I'll watch it soon though. PROMISE!

#3 - I just found out not EVERYONE can view photos hosted on a Flickr website. Several people emailed me and there are some companies out there who blocked their servers from accessing Flickr. My oh my. Don't worry though... I'm **THIS** close to coming to a solution. I'll be hosting all my new images at a different hosting site now.

#4 - I HATE MY FRIEND LOUISE FROM SWEDEN. I made her 2 "I Love Louise" pictures and all I got was a crappy photoshopped piece of shit. You know how ****I**** despise photoshop. I'm not even gonna post what she made.


#5 - I can't believe I missed the Goyard Boutique opening in San Francisco yesterday, Friday. It's the first Goyard boutique in the world aside from the one in St. Honore in Paris! I'm truly honored to be invited (in spite of haven't been to San Francisco in my entire life. Oi!) and I genuinely appreciate the gesture.


#7 - Small favor to those of you who live in the third world. Does anyone around here have a copy of yesterday's (FRIDAY) Philippine Star newspaper? I have a photo there somewhere. Please, pretty please, look for my photo and scan it for me. I'm begging you. I'll give you a kiss on the cheek and an oreo cookie if you do this teeny weeny favor for me. Email Thanks!

I think that's all for now.

Email or SMS +63-915-785-1492. TELL ME YOU LOVE ME.

Be happy, be pretty and be gorgeous. Don't do anything I won't do.


January 25, 2006

The Stuff Brown Bitches Are Made of, Hannah Matronic Let's Get Married!, The Blossoming of Bryanboy

The Stuff Brown Bitches Are Made Of

Correct me if I'm wrong: American designer Michael Kors once said "anyone/everyone looks good with a tan." I think I read it from an old copy of In Style whilst having my pedicure at my local nail salon.

FYI, a good tan can hide some of your icky superficial flaws - scars, blemishes, zits, stretch marks, uneven color, etc. I'm sure there are a shitload of people like me who weren't graced with flawless skin so the next best thing to a skin transplant is getting a tan.

I'm currently using Lancaster for body & face and Nars bronzer (Laguna). Chanel has this old lip gloss (color 64) that will compliment your new look.

Lancaster must have changed their formulation because I looked friggin orange the last time I used it.

I must say they're good. It's like adobe photoshop in a can!!!!


Man, I really look different on this photo. I can't for the life of god decide whether I look older or younger.


I like my new color though.

Give me a week or two to bask in this self-tan obsession. Thank god it will be gone by the time I get sick of it.

Try it today! Get a fucking tan and turn yourself into a gorgeous islander native such as moi. Embrace your inner exotic and unleash the power of the color brown. Sephora carries a ton of self-tanning products, bronzers, etc.


I went to a nice little party yesterday at a friend's house because one of her friends is going back to San Francisco where he lives. His Name is Wilson and yes, he's the only guy in the world who SERVES caviar whenever he throws sex orgies. I'm definitely gonna miss him. Here's Wilson holding Tim's goodbye present.


Tim (the blonde Chinese guy) gave the gayest (and cutest) gift in the world!





Hannah Matronic Let's Get Married!

Hannah Matronic you cum-guzzling slut, let's get married. Soon.

Rescue me you fucking bitch.

I don't care if you marry me for my money... I'll even feed you with all the Chanel that you want until you shit long, brown turds with swarovski-encrusted interlocking CCs.

I joined this personals site yesterday called Guys4Men out of sheer boredom and yes, one of my friends were right - this site is good for entertainment value..

or shock, awe and horreur.

This 20-year old guy sent me a message out of nowhere asking me whether or not I want to suck his dick, right then and there.


Here's what I sent back.


I think I scared him off. I didn't get a reply afterwards.

Don't get me wrong. I would've given the poor kid a mind-blowing head job if:

a) he's got US$20,000,000 in liquid assets
b) he buys me dinner at L'Opera (one of my favourite restuarants in Manila).

The Blossoming of Bryanboy


One of my friends at the party mentioned this Filipino movie called The Blossoming of Maximo Oliveros. I read about it somewhere online and it's only today that I searched for it.

Google came up with this independent review from

Ang Pagdadalaga ni Maximo Oliveros (The Blossoming of Maximo Oliveros) is a wonderful wonderful film that explores the purity of a 12 year old homosexual boy in the midst of the grittiness, corruption, and dirtiness of the slums of Metro Manila. Written by Michiko Yamamoto, who also scribed the charming award-winning tear-jerker Magnifico, Ang Pagdadalaga ni Maximo Oliveros feels and sounds more mature without sacrificing Yamamoto's talent for putting into words and scenes the beauty of innocence and childhood.


Aureaus Solito, working with the little budget granted to him doesn't lose sight of artistry and integrity of storytelling. He doesn't delve into the politics of homosexuality, nor does he get tempted to exoticize or eroticize the blossoming of an openly homosexual teenager. He gears his camera towards the inherent kindness and purity of the soul of Maximo. He establishes little flickers of humanity and kindness in the faces of the petty criminals who Maximo regards as family. Maximo's father, the kingpin of the slums, the master cellphone snatcher is a refreshing character. While most other gay-themed films would portray the fathers as stern and homophobic, here, the father is loving, accepting, and entirely lovable despite his associations with criminal activity. Maximo's two elder brothers are also cellphone snatchers, yet despite their outwardly machismo, they take care of Maximo and accept him for what he really is. When Victor, a clean and honest cop, arrives in the slums, Maximo gets attracted and falls for the policeman. Their relationship provides the dilemma of the film wherein Maximo is trapped in the middle of his family's illegal source of income and his admiration for the stalwart cop. The film is entirely shot digitally which resulted in muted colors and pale blacks. Cinematographer Nap Jamir however makes most of the meager capabilities of digital filmmaking and intelligently and creatively creates shots that add much needed grittiness and intimacy to the film. Filipino rock legend Pepe Smith provides for a beautifully apt musical score mostly composed of guitar strummings.

That picture is sooo fucking hilarious I just had to dig up an old picture back when I was a child. I came up with this. I think I must have been 12 or 13 when this photo was taken... in Boracay Island.


Here's another not-so-recent photo of myself. The Dior top with the zip on the side is a giveaway as to what year this picture was taken.

I'm telling you... it's amazing what MONEY can do to a child these days.

AGEING is a word that should be abolished from the dictionary. However, it's moments like this that makes me glad I aged like fine fuckin wine.

Bryanboy Loves... and Random Cheesemax

#1 - Bryanboy loves people from London, UK, Frederiksberg, Denmark, Nagano, Japan, Pekin, IL, Istanbul, Turkey, Livonia, MI, Dulles, VA, Jordaan, Holland, Race Course Village, Singapore, York Mills, ONT Canada, Manama, Bahrain, Charlotte, NC, Warsaw, Poland, Garrel, Germany, Quinta Da Verdelha, Portugal, Tours, France, Endicott, NY, Riyadh, Saudi Arabia and of course, all the beautiful boys who live in Ober Eschbach, Hessen Germany. I love, love, love you all. Talk to me you fuckin cunts.

#2 - I'm doing 2 LIVE (oh dear god) TV interviews this week. To save myself from the embarassment, no, I'm not telling when. And no, I'm not telling where either. You can channel surf your tv set all you want but I ain't telling you anything. I'll get one of my minions to take pictures of this historical moment though. The only thing I'm gonna wish for at this time is that Mercury Drug (the Philippines' biggest drug/pharmacy chain) better have a shitload of xanax ready for me. I'll take 10 pills before the interview and 20 pills after.

#3 - Suicide is the best way to deal with shame. If suicide doesn't work, emigrating to an unknown African town is the next best option. Masai beads, anyone?

#4 - Trust me, I'll BURN my snot-colored passport and stop going on sex tourism trips if all third world penises are as big as that. I came across this photo on Jenna's blog. I love Jenna!

# 5 - Bryanboy gives a big shout out to all the fabulous people at Penshoppe Juniors (Girl's/Teens Line) Creative Team. I love the fantastic pout on each and every one of your faces. You all look absolutely STUNNING!


I'll never forget those days back in the dark ages (aka mid 1990s) when a Penshoppe (or a Bench) hand towel is the accessory de rigeur of every middle class school child. I was soooo fuckin jealous of the mother fuckers. Half of my schoolmates had them in every color imaginable whereas I only had 2 of them cause my mom told me it's better to carry handkerchiefs and not hand towels to school.

Svtwins#7 - SOMEBODY STOP THE LIGHT!!!!! I'M ALREADY AT THE GLAMOROUS END OF THE TUNNEL!!!! I'm having even more flashbacks of my childhood. Who would've forgotten good ol' Jessica and Elizabeth Wakefield? Jesus, god knows how much money I stole from my parents just to be able to buy the entire Sweet Valley Kids, Sweet Valley Twins, Sweet Valley High, Sweet Valley University book set little by little? (And yes, even the god damn Sweet Valley Slam Book) My former schoolmates won't let me borrow their books cause they think I'm not gonna return it. My dad thought my obsession with Sweet Valley was ridiculous AND frivolous - he wanted me to read HARDY FUCKIN BOYS.

He ended up being right though.

Sweet Valley was frivolous...

and I should've sticked with HARD BOYS.

Y'all know where to contact me mother fuckers.

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

Remember: I love Sephora... and so should you!



January 05, 2006

What to Look for in a Guy, BONUS: Limited Edition Bryanboy PORN!

What to Look for in a Guy

Calling the attention of all single mother fuckers out there. Hear ye! Hear ye!

After all these years, now I know why I'm still fucking single. My standards are way too far up my own ass... I shouldn't take my little guide religiously... and so.... seriously.

Whoever said love is blind should be shot to the ground and squished like roadkill. Fuck 'love is blind'. Love is much better behind a pair of Boucheron (or in my case, Gucci) sunglasses.

For those of you out there who might be interested on what my standards are, feel free to read below. I added some nice celebrity (and pornesque) shots to illustrate what I meant.

1. He must be taller than you by at least a couple of inches... even with heels.
Save the midgets to the little people. People like you and me need a man who is taller than us.


2. He must be fit, well-proportioned and have better-than-average looks.
This is a tricky one. Someone who looks nice and presentable enough is good. On the other hand, going for someone who has a killer body and a hollywood smile is pretty much asking for trouble.

Skip the beautiful boys and go for the beautiful-but-not-so-beautiful kind.




3. He must be well-off.
One of our mantras in the Bryanboy School of Golddigging is "why date a parasite when that parasite can be YOU?". Let's face it - nobody wants to date a fucking leech. Unfortunately.. most men here (who bat for my team at least) are fucking leeches. At least that's what I've been told. Not that I've ever dated a guy here... in fact, I HAVEN'T!

Perhaps this is one of the main reasons why I'm still single in this cesspit of the third world. It already makes me sad knowing the fact that I'm not attractive. So why make me feel worse by going out with me only because you think I have money?


I'm not saying that we should all root for the wealthiest guy in the world... all I'm trying to say is it's a matter of balance... like the picture above. Besides... who wouldn't want to get nice orange boxes with brown ribbons once a week? 

BTW.. AVOID students at all costs. That's right. Those damn creatures (no matter how wealthy they are) will fuck you in the head.

4. Go for a gentleman.
It's always nice when a guy treats you like a princess. A true gentleman is very, very hard to find these days. They are so hard to find that even our old hag Kate Moss goes for the young ones. I wonder, who the hell is this 20 year old mystery guy?

Would it be nice if you have a man at your disposal to help put your shoes on? Isn't that sweet?


5. Always opt for the er.
Bigg-ER. Bett-ER. Great-ER.

Never sell yourself short. There is nothing wrong for wanting anything that ends with an ER. Bigger, better, greater.





Email me and tell me you love me. Email


December 11, 2005

Cryanboy, Love Me, Video Surprise, Stockhome Excess



Download gettingclosermp3.mp3

I don't know whether to laugh or cry.

I have never felt soo stupid.

I did cry for a little bit on my way back from the train station (where I dropped Jakob off cause he has to go back to middle of nowhere, Sweden) to the hotel. Thank god I had my brand spanking new Gucci sunglasses to conceal my tears.

(God I look awful on that picture.)

I'll be honest. I haven't cried in a long time.

Heck, I didn't even cry when my grandfather died last year.

I don't even know why the fuck I'm sobbing like a little bitch. 

It seems soo petty and shallow, you know.

I bet you he'll probably laugh it off (or feel embarassed) when he reads this post. Am I right, Jakob? Hah! *kiddin*

Nah, he's a really cool guy. I'm glad that we met. I have to admit though, the chances of me and him seeing again are pretty much slim to none. History repeats itself and it's ***ALWAYS*** been like that whenever I go on holiday.

I told him yesterday when we were walking around Copenhagen, "Merry Christmas, Happy New Year and Happy Birthday."

Here's a funny pic taken on Friday (thanks Sebastian!!!!)


I look like a midget compared to all those guys. Ugh! Someone just make me 6 foot 3 already. Please? All I want for christmas is to be 6'3... or 6'4.

Love Me

While true love comes in the form of a Hermes croc birkin bag or a Vacheron Constantin watch, looking at some of these pictures will suffice when I'm feeling shit.

Thank you, thank you, thank you all for loving me.

(Bryangirl in the making. She's only 16 months old. Thanks Sharon!)

(Here's some Swedish lovin' lovin from Ola and Linn... they're some of Jakob's friends.  The left sign says "Go for it Jaqy" aka Jakob.)

AL from the Philippines even had their maids do the Bryanboy pose. I love it! (Hello to JS!!)

I love girls from the land of kangaroos and gorgeous surfer boys.


Here's a big one from Singapore. Bryanboy LOVES EACH AND EVERYONE of you.


Keep those pictures coming. A lonely, sobbing bitch like me can never have too much love. True love comes in the form of a photograph. Email prima facie evidence of your unconditional love to

Anyway, I need to get my head fixed. I'm gonna roam around Copenhagen for a bit, stock up on Georg Jensen and see more Danish people.

I need a good kick up my ass so I'll *snap* *snap* back to reality.

Video Surprise

I have a little gay video surprise for you all.

I'm cleaning up my digital camera and came across this small video of me posing in a club. Niklas must have pressed the wrong button and took a video instead of a picture.

Click here to download/view it. It's quite dark though. Oh well.

Stockhome Excess

Here's more Stockholm pics for you to look at. Some of the pics were taken at Sturecompagniet. I'm telling you, that FOX goes everywhere!!!!










Ok, ok, I know she's gorgeous. Her chinchilla is better than mine though. I love you NAOMI!



August 17, 2005

But **you've** got the love I need to see me through.

You Got the Love

Sometimes I feel like throwing my hands up in the air. I know I can count on you. Sometimes I feel like saying "lord I just don't care", but you've got the love I need to see me through.

It's 7:50AM and I'm off to bed after this post. I'm gonna clean up and crop my blog to a reasonable length as soon as I've risen from my rivotril-induced coffin beauty sleep. The entire page is just far too long and I think it's high time for me to just create some sort of a "Classic Bryanboy" drop-down thing with some of my Academy Award-winning posts.

Here's my final abuse to those of you on dialup and homoerectus-era internet connections: I am proud to present you the boys who have a special place in my heart.

Yeah yeah. Whatever.

Fall in line bitches. One at a time. If you want to go technical I can only manage three at a time. Ok, maybe four because I have 2 hands.

Especially Alex. Oh yes, Alex. I love you too.


D as in D, there's still that "Erin O'Connor" thing ever since I first saw you.










Time after time I say oh lord what's the use, time after time I say this just won’t do. But sooner or later in life the things you love you’ll lose... just like before I know I call on you.

Send me pictures of love, love and even more love. Bombard my email account: Genuine, true and unconditional love only please - NO photoshop.

Goodnight! Good morning.


July 26, 2005

Max Foster, Penny Martin is GOD, Guy S-Hopping with Bryanboy

Say a big pink hello to Max Foster.

He's an anchor for CNN International, who is based in London. Despite him being almost balding, there's something charismatic and CAMP with this guy when I was watching the TV earlier. And you know how I despise TV. I only watch CNN whenever I watch TV. I'm so over my couch potato phase. So to me, yeah, this moment was kinda special.


_40492993_cahoot_maxlive203_1Y'all think he's gay or not? Like most CNN imports, this charming, I-wish/don't-mind-that-he-was-dirty-old-gay man came from the beeb (BBC). He does have a fugly photo too, fresh from the BBC website, circa 2004. Look at the awful face and imagine the look when he's giving it to your shithole. Gawd, when I saw him on TV earlier, all I wanted to do is to smash my TV set, pull him out of the box, rip off that suit and see what kind of treasure awaits me.

He's probably uncut. Oh well. whatever.

But yeah, I think whenever people from the beeb transfer to CNN, they somehow become cuter. That's what "private funds" and "budget" does versus "public funds". More makeup, better clothes, plastic surgery..... hah! ;)

Penny Martin is God.


There is a GOD and her name is Penny. Screw nickles, dimes and pounds. Everyone get down on yer knees and hail the name "penny". Enough said.

Let's go guy s-hopping now, shall we?

Admit it. If you use the internet and unless you are married (heck, even married people still hunt for shags on the side), chances are, you've probably created a profile at some website(s) looking for love, lust and well, lusting love and lovingly lust.

Like any internet geek such as yourself, I, one of the beautiful *vomit* ones, have all sorts of profiles EVERYWHERE. There's one at myspace, friendster, outeverywhere, fridae, thingbox, gaydar and all sorts of places. Even at places where it involves an online translator where people speak french or russian.I believe in biodiversity and I think you have to put yourself out there. The world is a big, big place and you don't want to miss opportunities.

Sadly, some of the opportunities I get are:


I'm at a loss of words when I saw that. Actually, not really. I'm used to it. If you're a chink, chances are you'd probably be getting a ton of messages such as the one above.

What never ceases to amaze me tho is where the fucking hell do some of these "types" get the audacity to even think I'd go for them. I think perhaps just because I'm a chink they automatically have it programmed that I'd go for their hairy large buttocks. Can I say purge? Not that there's something wrong with em, I mean, they're humans too you know. But still. Gosh. Fine. I promise I won't be critical of other people.

Has it even occured to them that despite me being of the exotic kind, that I'd actually go for someone within MY age range? Or at least close to it? I give them A+ for Effort though. Seriously. It takes BALLS to message people. I think it comes with the ageing process.

Now don't get me wrong, I have LOTS of friends and acquaintances with people coming from all sorts of ages, backgrounds and lifestyles. I do talk to people regardless of who/what/where/etc they are.

But sometimes... just sometimes..... well, let's just say I kind of turn into Beyonce. Nasty Girl. That sort of thing.

Anyway. Next one on the line is.... Errm, Actually, this one more of a "confession-type" thingie. But you know what, I, Bryanboy, have no shame. He and his friends will most likely read this but fuck it.

For the longest time ever, I had this little only crush thing with a certain guy. Oh yes. For like over a year, I've checked his profile out probably like at least once a week. Or something. I thought he was cute. Well, he is kinda cute.


The way the profile system at OutEverywhere works is the fact that when you check someone's profile out and vice-versa, the system leaves a "track" automatically, therefore notifying you that he/you had visited each other's profile. But god, this guy must have thought I'm a stalker.

So after about a year or two of me checking his profile out, he FINALLY took notice and sent me a message. This was like way, way, way, way back ago.


I was gobsmacked when I got that message. Again, bukkake facial at its finest.

And you know what?

I let his message sit on my inbox for an ENTIRE MONTH because I just didn't know what to say.

Do I seem "assey" to you, my blog readers?

Last time I've checked, I'm the epitome of nice. And sweet.

One month later, I decided to send him a reply once and for all when I moved on (and my little infatuation is over).


Guess what? I didn't get a reply since. I think I scared him off. Hah bloody hah.

Well, aren't Mormons come from like Utah? Bah.

Now you know why I'll be perennially single.

There's just something about me, oh god save me, that kind of um, either attracts... or scare... people off.

Believe it or not though, I'm shy when it comes to boys.

It is EXTREMELY rare for me to actually send someone **I KINDA LIKE** a message.

Yes, I've got no shame when it comes to most things. Seriously.

But when it comes to me sending random people I kind of fancy... erk... I just can't do it.

Even in person. Oh yes. Even in person.

I guess I'm one of those passive-types.

If people (I don't fancy, at least sexually) talk to me, which thankfully, some do, I think it's fantastic.

But for me to come up to someone I like... that's a different story.

I need balls dammit.

Oh just bloody go out there, my blog

reader, and pimp me out to someone.

Baboosh for now.

July 19, 2005

Confession Time: when infatuation turns into love, it transforms into obsession it then morphs into Calvin Klein.

Good morning to all of you worldwide cunts wherever you are. It's 1:35AM on a Tuesday and I just got up. I'm starving!

Before I confess and unleash my inner demons to you my dear readers, I thought I'd pop in a couple of extra side dishes here and there. I hope all the sins, evil deeds and everything else that's wrong, stays within this website. May god bless, forgive and fortify my soul.

First off, Sarah, thank you very much for bring to my attention my um, *cringes with shock and horror*, well, my alter-ago, - that's Bryan spelt with an i, which makes it Yes, my loyal readers, after months of concealing what my job is, Sarah finally discovered what I do for a living. NOT!

Next, I just got back from my pulmonologist and my paparazzi-slash-sisterette was able to take some shots. God I need a proper paparazzi this way I don't have to pose. Hah! Crystal, here are some pictionary moments at the hospital parking lot. I've been trying to resurrect a skinny-off-duty-model-pre-brazilians-old-25-inch waist-earl jeans-wearing-effortless-rock-look but I made the dreaded mistake of wearing my fave cowboy boots instead of my Dior biker boots. Anyway, my arms look fat and it totally ruined the kodak moment.



Enough of this taken from the car shots. Man I look like a street tramp. A Chanel sunglasses, Balenciaga Bag wearing street tramp.


Wanna see me rough? I'll give you rough.

I haven't shaved my face for like a week

and a half now. I think I'm gonna grow

facial hair.




Now that pictionary is over, I might as well proceed with my confession.

I'm infatuated with someone. Deeply, madly, infatuated with someone.

The one that is almost borderline obsession because I googled to search for everything there is to know about him.

It's been a few days now and I just can't flush him out of my head.

I really like him.

I do.

His eyes says it all. Oh yes his shiny, shiny, shiny eyes.

You see, I don't even like muscle marys. At all. I find them icky. I find them intimidating. I find them... awful.

But there's always exceptions to the rule. Yes. EXCEPTIONS. You know who you are so fuck me. (Hint: his first name is Raul, his last name is Bova)

It's so horrible that I've been living the past few days on a diet of sheer wishful thinking.

Why can't I get this guy?

Is he even a fag?

Is he really a fag?

Is he even "bisexual"?

Does he have a girlfriend?

A cover-up girlfriend to keep the public satisfied?

All I can do at this point is to pray to the good lord almighty and the patron saint of fagdom, Patsy Stone, that he turn out to be gay.

And no, I haven't thought about stealing his underwear contrary to what people think. As if that's even possible. Hell-o.

As one guy told me, infatuation is worse than heroin.


If you're infatuated but he isn't then it's obsession. Obsession can be as soon as 5 seconds after you've checked each other out.

But he hasn't checked me out.

Not that I know of.

All I want is for him to look at me eyes and the give me a good ol hug and then a nice little snog action.

Again - wishful thinking. Hah!

Yes, he's attractive. The first time I saw

him - shit, I had goosebumps. I was

gobsmacked. Fuck clouds in my coffee,

it was bukkake facial slapped on my face.

Ready boys and girls?

Thanks, Tr3nt, for the picture.

Vomit inducing drama eh? I bet you were

just as disappointed as I am. Heh!

Oh well. I like him.

So har dee har har.

P.S. To you my dear friends at Marc Jacobs. Did you guys get my fax? I know, I shouldn't have don that Gucci Gladiator bag.

P.P.S.S. Email me and tell me you love me. You know who you guys are. Or better yet, post comments and tell me you hate me.

P.P.P.S.S.S. According to my pulmonologist, my pill popping days are over. I can now safely smoke like a chimney again and ditch my bronchitis pills. I'm a healed man! All I need now is this nasal spray for a few weeks and that's about it!

As my newfound friend Lucifer from Mexico says, a bottle of Fracas anyone?

I'm off to have lunch. Yes, at 2:05AM. I'll update later.


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