Gay Bloggies

Her-rrro gay broggies! Me sucky sucky 5 dolla me lab yu long time 10 dolla you pay 20 dolla i gib free roost duck!

I really wanted to haul my fat ass downtown to take new photos + videos of good ol' third world scenery and play "show and tell" but I've been bedridden for the past few days. As much as I want to concoct some sad sordid story on how I contracted some sort of illness so you can sympathise with me and send flowers, I'm gonna go ahead and confess that I've been depressed and extremely lazy as of late and in the past 48 hours, all I did was eat (BINGE AND PURGE FTW!!!), smoke a lot, watch DVDs and catch up with my Gossip Girl and Ugly Betty iTunes downloads.

Enough dilly dally. Grand tour, eh? Grand tour of my hometown? Please. Let's not kid ourselves, shall we?

As some of you already know, I live in the cesspit of the third world called Manila, Philippines. Do you know where that is? Can I see a show of hands? No? Can you point it out on the map? Anybody? No? I'm not surprised.

The only time the world's media pay attention to my neck of the woods is whenever there are stories that involve the usual political turmoils, the never-ending corruption scandals, something about overpopulation, something about the poor -- or should I say, the REALLY POOR (because I'm poor... but there are millions more in terrible conditions compared to mine so I'll call them the 'really poor') or government officials gone wild. You'll also hear something about earthquakes, something about typhoons, something about flooding and other "acts of god", something about mall blasts or something about rebel groups such as Abu Sayyaf, Jemaah Islamiyah, Chukchakchenes Chorvaloo and of course, the SamMilby Pansclub Putanginangmasa Magpakamataynakayo Bulacanchapter etc. Just kidding.

Ask any non-Filipino living entity what they know about Manila or the Philippines and chances are, they'll say something about cheap booze and cheap brown coochie, 3-inch penises, poverty, Imelda Marcos and her shoes, and of course me. HAHAHAHA! I knew I had to say that. Why? Over the years, a shitload of Filipinos outside the motherland share their endless tales how strangers from other countries ask them where they're from and when they say "the Philippines", people then ask them if they know "Bryanboy". I shit you not! There was this time a French journalist went to Manila for reasons unknown to me (yeah, the same one who got cruised on by random faggots in my other story) and got to know a few showbiz faces here. When he got back to Paris, we had a little chat and he was all like "blah blah blah random actress, yaddi yaddi yadda random actor, are not famous but you are, because nobody in France had heard of them and even my other colleagues have heard of you".

Hearing things like this makes me giddy -- not only I put myself on the map, my country gets known to the rest of the world, too. Isn't that exciting? Right from the start I've always said geography is no boundary when it comes to Bryanboy's faggotry and world domination is my ultimate goal. Haha!

Ugh. This is becoming a me-me-me post. Enough about me and more about the land of the brown, the exotic and the natives!

Anyway, IMO there really is more about Manila (and the Philippines in general) compared to usual crap you read/hear on the news and the only way to find out is to get your fat ass ovah here to see for yourself. Manila may not rank high up there with the usual tourist heavyweights (why do most Americans go to friggin Acapulco or Cancun during summer or spring break when teenage Europeans flock Asia on their gap years? Bitch. Please.)... heck, I think Bangkok is more progressive than Manila, but still... this is the city I call home and I think you should still come over for a visit. I love my city even though it's crowded and over-polluted. I love my city even though the average guy here is fucking ugly and I could go sex-less for months. I love my city even though luxury goods are more overpriced compared to the rest of the world. It's one of those blood is thicker than water things... $8 haircuts? $40 facials? $1 for a packet of marlboros? Hella there's definitely no place like home.

On that note, let's play pictionary shall we?

Instead of giving a "virtual tour" (which I already did earlier this year on a different blog), let me share to you some hilarious old random snapshots taken in various parts of my town.

How can you **NOT** love a place where people look at **YOU** all the time??? Attention whores unite! Hahahaha! I love it!

This is what they were looking at...

BTW, don't believe that whole "Asian is skinny" bullcrap. Earlier this year, I did a little social experiment. I sat near the fountain in one of our malls.

I took random pictures of people in less than 5 minutes and and look how healthy and festively plump people here are!

And there you have it. God I love the third world, flaws, scars, anal warts and all. Just look at my shameless celebration of my personality. I bet you if you pull shit like I do in other countries you'd be lucky to come out alive!

The funny thing is that it's not unusual for people to tell me to get out of this shithole. Some people believe Manila is hopeless. I beg to differ. Folk from all walks of life often say things like I need to spread my wings and fly or how I don't deserve to be here or how I could grow more as a person if I live somewhere else. I can't even count the number of times I've had the opportunity to move elsewhere. While tens, if not hundreds of thousands of my compatriots seek greener pastures overseas year after year, for some strange reason, I've always chosen to stay here no matter what. Perhaps the right opportunity hasn't landed yet... or maybe, just maybe, in the grand scheme of things, I was really meant to be here and my purpose in life is to put the third world on the map and perhaps make a difference in my own, special little ways, right here, right now, in my own backyard.

What do you think?

My, my, my Manila!

PS. Roast duck, anyone?

PPSS. You may want to check out my friend Carlos Celdran's blog, http://celdrantours.blogspot.com. He knows Manila more than I know my way to a man's crotch. He's definitely a national treasure and he works his butt off day and night to change the way people view my lovely hometown of 14 million people. Yes!!! 14 Million rodents y'all, everyone loves bareback sex here!!! JK. :-)

First things first, a big thank you for Derek and Romaine for the airtime they gave my third world ass yesterday night. You guys are hilarious! You'll be the first one to know when I buy my first vibrator or when one of my favourite designers throw some swag my way.

Now.

A lot of things happened to me this year. Like most people, I also had my share of personal highs and lows. On top of the usual family problems, one of my best friends moved back to Australia. An ex-boyfriend passed away. Blah blah blah, yaddi yaddi yadda. In the fun spirit of this site, I won't bore you with sordid tales of my life so let's focus with my personal highs instead.

1. Imelda Marcos
Leaving political issues aside, it's not every day you get to have dinner with one of the world's most high-profile women and when I got invited to join Mrs. M on a little rendezvous, I said yes! Contrary to what everyone thinks, no, she does NOT eat little children for lunch. She's really nice, sweet and truly fabulous.

2. New York Post
One of NYC's popular rags, the New York Post named me one of the hottest internet celebs. I know I'm the last one who made the list -- and unless I'm mistaken, I'm probably the only non-American on there as well. SOMEONE FROM THE USA SHOULD JUST FUCKING ADOPT ME SO I CAN MOVE THERE!

3. Marc Jacobs
I know, I know, I should fucking rub it in, right? It truly is a dream come true, especially for most people into fashion. Let's face it, for a lowly nobody in the third world, it's not every day you could pick the phone up at 4 in the morning to speak to one of the most amazing and talented designers of our time.

So what is my most important moment of 2007?

Well, it has nothing to do with buying the latest IT-bag or meeting famous, fabulous people or being mentioned in the press or having one-on-one phone time with one of the world's iconic designers.

2007 is the year I discovered myself.

Not in a masturbatory way, of course. Duh. I discovered that bit when I was 10.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that in the past few years, I've spent an awful lot of time discovering other people, seeking their approval, attention and validation and trying to please them. I wasted so much time worrying about what other people think of me, correcting what they think of me, etc.

I'm always the first one to admit that I'm one of the most insecure bitches on the face of the planet. Every day is a battle with my insecurities. Am I fat? Am I ugly? Am I this or that? What does X think of me? What would X, Y, Z think if I did this? What would A, B, or C say if I do that? People come in and out of my life the way people go through a revolving door. I make new "friends" as fast as I lose them. It's pathetic, I know, but that's just the way it is. But you know what? Screw other people! The ones who are worth it are the ones who make the effort to know you better and stand by you through good times and bad times. People can be vindictive and vicious (heck, I'm probably vicious, too) but at the end of the day, fuck them all, you know?

If there is one MAYJAH thing I learned this year it's to be at peace with myself -- and try my hardest to keep it that way. It's no easy feat, of course, but I realized that everything in this life is temporary. Most of the good things are 'icing on the cake' as they say.

I think it's better to create your OWN little world and anyone you meet becomes part of it instead of you becoming part of theirs. Don't you think?

Time to back off the vodka red bulls. I hope I made sense with what I said. Hah!

I love you all!

So the powers that be asked us to show off our taste in guys eh? Is this where people are supposed to post photos of your stereotypical beefed-up jock with a 9-inch dick? I don't know about you but you can have your cake identi-kit 6-foot something something muscle mary and eat it. I'll pass.

To be quite honest, my taste in men is quite... weird. I know many of us want pretty faces and nice bodies alright but how many of us do restrict ourselves to a "specific" type? A lot actually, but as far as I'm concerned, I don't... and I try not to. It's difficult to define WHO is the hottest guy out there based on their looks, their personality or both.

I've been with far too many guys over the years with looks that range from the supremely good-looking to what people might consider as downright offensive. My first boyfriend, for instance, was 5'10 and he weighed 180 pounds. We were only 17 at the time and man he was so fat I could've easily turned his boxer shorts into a tube dress. I even made him wax his back because he was a hairy mother fucker.

But I loved him dearly. In fact, he's the only one I've ever loved so intensely -- our relationship lasted a year and 8 months. To this date, I haven't found anyone who could parallel my experiences and what I've felt for the guy.

Over the years I've flitted from one guy to the next and again, everyone's different from each other. Some were absolute stunners while some were complete charity cases. But at that time, in my eyes and in my heart, they were totally HOT.

What I find attractive (and what I end up getting) also changed drastically over time. When I was in my teens, I try to find the usual fellow twink but I mostly end up with old bastards in their late 20s and 30s. Now that I'm in my.... well, hahaha. Let's just say these days, I'm looking for someone a little older (I SAID A LITTLE) than me and a little more experienced than me. However, the only guys who find me attractive and interesting are young ones. By young meaning YOUNG.

Enough about types and more about "HOT".

I know I could easily go to a fashion model forum and try to dig up a picture of my favourite fashion male model. Case in point, Terron Wood.

On the outside, he's got everything I want in a guy. He's tall, he's fit, he's got beautiful eyes, a nice smile, blah blah blah yaddi yaddi yadda. Overall, he's HOT. Super hot. Visually hot.

But how can you tell if one is REALLY hot unless you've touched it?

Hotness, to me, is a sensation.

I have to fully feel... experience something/someone for myself before I can pass judgment because there's always more than what meets the eye.

However, in my opinion, the hottest guy on the face of the planet (and this has nothing to do with attractiveness), is...

MY DAD!

Photo taken back in the 70s. The hair!!! OMG the hair!!!

The amount of shit I put him through over the years and for him to (still) love me unconditionally, liver spots, gut, gray hair, warts and all, is definitely worthy of him being HOT.

I love you all!

Unless you live in a cave, you should know by now that Marc Jacobs, is no doubt, one of America's (and the world's) leading fashion designers.

"Despite whatever rumors you may have heard, I'm not out of my mind."
-- Marc Jacobs, 2007

I have a soft spot for this man. I really do. I started becoming fashion-obsessed right about the time when he took over Louis Vuitton, which is during my early teens. Suffice to say, his creations (for his own line, Marc Jacobs, his diffusion line Marc by Marc Jacobs and Louis and insight became part of my daily inspiration over the years.

From hardcore fashion critics such as Suzy Menkes (International Herald Tribune) who labeled his main line collection for Spring 2008 as a "freak show" to his on-and-off relationship with Jason Preston, his work and personal life made a lot of headlines as of late. While most designers keep their private lives away from public view, no other fashion designer (at least to my knowledge) is constantly on the media because of their personal issues. Because Marc is always out there, it makes him more... I dunno... "he's just like us" real.

I like to think that famous people are nothing but figments of my imagination. With all the things that are written about them these days, barely anyone knows what's real or not and the only way to know the facts is to get them straight from the horse's mouth. Unfortunately, I doubt there's a chance in this lifetime I'll get to meet Marc and without interacting with him on a personal and 'real' scale, he'll remain as someone who is part of (like most things 'fashion') a fantasy.

Jesus mother of god. My head hurts from trying to figure out all the answers. Well, it's 3:55AM on a Sunday, I'm dying from chronic boredom and I've got nothing to do so...

Answer 1: In 2003, Perez was 36 and Hilton was 9. That makes it 4 years ago. [YIPEEE!]

Answer 2. Melanie Griffith [YIPEEE!]

Answer 3. Sweden and Lebanon [YIPEEE!]

Answer 4: 11 squares [YIPEEE!]

Answer 5: QueerClick was registered on July 1, 2004 which technically makes it 3 years and 4 months. However, if you look at the Internet Wayback Machine, the folks at Queerclick first launched their site around September 2004.

However, we all know gays like to shed off a few months (or worse, years) off their age. QueerClick celebrates its birthday on the month of October so let's tag QC as 3 years and 1 month old. [YIPEEE!]

Answer 6: Towleroad [YIPEEE!]

Answer 7: Buck Angel? No? Buck Angel on a sybian? No? What about Britney Spears? [WHOOPS!]

Answer 8: 19 Sponsors. Aussie Bum, Sean Cody and Famous Males [YIPEEE!]

Answer 9: According to their online store there's 11 styles (Freshhh Break, Eden, Graffiti, Latte, Mustang, Starlight, Daydream, Sunset, Paradise, Liquid and Island) But if you google, you'll also find Freshhh Swim Tropics. [YIPEEE!]

Answer 10: Tough choice. It's a toss between [Name removed to protect the innocent] and [Name removed to protect the innocent]. Both ladies have their own following which make the rest of the contestants look amateur. If I were to make a choice I would say [Name removed to protect the innocent].

I almost had a coronary when we were asked to take photos of ourselves wearing orange. I know I could strip down to my birthday suit and use a huge-ass orange (as in the fruit) to cover my cock and balls but I'm no cheap trick; we sophisticated ladies like to keep our clothes on, thank you very much. The thing is, I don't have a lot of orange pieces in my closet -- just a few basics such as a shirt, shorts, a sweater, whatever. I don't know about you but orange is probably the least flattering colour EVER. At least on me.

If you look closely, I think you can see a cameltoe. I love a good ol' cock and ball torture AND keep it within the realms of vanilla.

Now you see it, now you don't.

Crotch shots are so not lady-like. Leave it for sluts. I have a reputation to keep, thanks very much. LOL.

Whenever I post pictures of myself on my blog, people always react... or ask questions, especially the new readers. I think it's all good. I get questions like "who takes your pictures?" or "what on earth are you thinking?" or "why do you have to take lots of pictures?". Some people even demand new pictures every day. A lot of folk don't understand it takes a lot of work... I mean, it's easy and all (and I love it... it's fun) but the effort to go out there with a cute outfit, take snaps, crop the pictures, etc is crazy. I wish it was just as easy as taking a few pictures and posting them online but it's not. Also, I'm not photogenic. I may love the camera but the camera doesn't love me, so there. With a mug like mine, I have to take a dozen or so pictures before finding THE right shot... and sometimes, I don't even get THE right shot at all, especially on a bad day.

Case in point:

Sometimes, the pictures are so hideous -- the poses are all wrong or my limbs look disproportioned (legs too short, arms too long, arms too short, legs too long, etc) or worse, I look fat. What am I gonna do, post a half-arsed mediocre pic? Look at this photo for example. I don't know what's scarier... is it the outfit or the stare?

And to be quite honest, that photo is the best one out of the entire set... and I got that shot the first time I tried it. The rest are just plain ol' horrible.

So yeah.

It happens ALL the time. Whenever I take pictures of myself, I don't take 1 or 2 lousy pictures. I take a hundred or so. Hahaha! I swear to god, I must have at least 40,000-50,000 pictures of myself in my computer but only a few thousand or so make it online. It's fun though. At the end of the day, beauty is in the eye of the beholder. What you think is nice might be shitty with someone else and vice-versa. But who cares? Pictures, to me, are like memories, so even if they're shitty they say a lot of things. When I get older, like 80 years old, I want to look back at memories of me when I was young, fugly mug shots and all, and say "oh wow, so this is how I looked when I was younger."

I love you all, as always!

I don't believe in 'guilty pleasures'. I really don't. I'm a generous person by nature so I always share to people whenever I have something good. Why keep little delightful things to yourself? Pleasures and indulgences are something to be proud of and we shouldn't be ashamed, or feel guilty, of anything that truly makes us feel good.

It's like meeting people (in real life) who read my blog. It's not unusual for folk to say things like "OMG BRYANBOY, you're my guilty pleasure!"

I say what, what? In da butt. What, what? Wanna do it in the butt? Let's party.

Guilty pleasure? Bitch please. What you're trying to say is that you like to read my blog but you don't want anyone to know about it?

Of course I'm not gonna tell that to their face because I'm nice and I want to go to heaven when I die.

You see, I'm all for shameless self-promotion and I rely on others to spread my gospel so hearing people say I'm their "guilty pleasure" is a small blow to my huge ego. I mean, it's flattering and all (and I'm truly thankful they read my site) but hella I want people to share me to their friends. I don't want them to keep me to themselves! I want people to forward my site, my silly pictures and my online antics to their co-workers, schoolmates and family. I want them to say things to random strangers about me. Why? It's all part of my master plan of world domination. I suffer from a severe, really really really severe case of ADD and I get depressed whenever I don't hear/read/see anything that's being said about me.

I'm sure you got the jist of what I'm trying to say so let's leave it at that.

What are MY "guilty pleasures"?

There's way too many to list in this blog entry so I'll share some of my favourite (and lesser-known) ones. I'm honestly the most shameless son of a bitch on the face of the planet, at least to my knowledge, so most of my readers already know a few things, thanks to my loud mouth, but hey, there is always someone out there who doesn't know any better... or anything... so here goes.

Bryanboy's Guilty Pleasures
(in no particular order)

1. Heterosexual Creampie Porn
The word "creampie" says it all. While geriatric women get off with jack rabbit vibrators and Mills & Boon romance novels, I for one love to indulge with creampies. I've been hooked on this shit for years. Google is your best friend if you don't know what creampie means... please be 18+ and older before you start clicking some links and whatever you do, be sure to avoid the word "housewife" otherwise you're in for a shock. Nothing beats watching a hole get pumped with hot, thick, creamy white population paste. The more, the merrier! As I've mentioned in one of my previous entries, my favourite movie is "65 Guy Creampie" starring Ariana Jollee. That whore is the luckiest cunt EVAR and I would totally watch her film over and over and over and over and over and over if I had all the time in the world. Watching chicks get creampied is so much better than watching a hairy-arsed fag do it. I mean seriously... aren't you (just a wee bit) curious what it's like to let 65 Eastern European bloc peasants use your hole as a cum dump? I am! Think of the mixed-raced babies aka Chanel of babies!

You can laugh all you want but hey, I love this sort of crap. Our tastes change over time. I'm sorry but watching 2 guys fucking before shooting cum on their face/mouth is soo dull I would probably get more excitement watching Planet Unicorn. I'm someone who spent his childhood years printing stories from Nifty.org during the glorious days of 28.8k US Robotics modems and hiding them underneath the matress. If you've been on the internet THAT long, I'm sure y'all started at Nifty. Can I see a show of hands? One? Two? Does Tommyhawk and Kevinmjo ring a bell? Ten sets of hands?

2. Mincing
Mincing, to me, is an art form. Every young queen over the age of 13 should master the art of mincing. A lot of flamers these days are soo misguided they think all it takes is a broken wrist, a crop top and some glitter before they hit the streets but no, it takes wayyy more than that. In this day and age of Fashion TV (FTV), video iPods, YouTube and downloadable fashion shows from the runways of New York, Milan and Paris, it's totally inexcusable for someone to just walk the streets unprepared. I for one like to download music they use on the runways, watch some of my favourite catwalkers (Natasha Poly, Mariacarla Boscono, Tanya Dziahileva) and try to incorporate their fierceness in my life.

The next time you walk the roads, bring your ipod with you and play some high energy music. Keep your back (and your face) straight, your hip bones jutting out and walk like a bullet train (think New Yorker speed; walk, not run) ... one foot in front of the other. And please... for the life of god, keep your arms and wrists in place. One trick is to put one hand in your pocket and use the other arm to guide you. Do not, under any circumstances stop... or care... about your surroundings (except for moving vehicles, duh). Just go from point A to point B with one heck of a fierce walk. Need an example? See for yourself. Look at the first girl who goes on the runway on this vid (Tanya) and you'll know what I mean.

Just remember: whatever you do, life is a runway. Every day is a fashion show and the street is your catwalk.

3. Internet Trolling
Everyone loves a good ol' internet troll. EVERYONE! Trust me on this. Whenever I'm bored out of my skull or whenever I have the spare time, I troll away at my favourite discussion forums. I'm not your typical troll though. I like to go to online forums where the audience is 100% opposite of me -- think heterosexual fat hairy losers in their 20s into cars, beer, Megan Fox, tits etc. In fact, I love those car forums. I really do. I like to create threads where I post some of my provoking gay-ass totally flaming, totally trantastic pictures and ask silly questions like, "WOULD YOU HIT IT" or "OMG I GOT HIT BY A TRUCK AND NOW I'M IN A WHEELCHAIR" or "HAY GUYS HOW DO I LOSE 10 POUNDS I'M OBESE". Sure they will hurl all the "faggot" insults at you but hey, these straight guys are a great tool for viral marketing -- they are WORSE than women when it comes to forwarding shit and y'all know I love it when people spread shit about me. The next time you corrupt a fat geek from the Midwest US of A who, think how many times he'll post your picture on various other online forums with your link on it with the caption "OMG LOOK AT THIS FAG".

I don't do this as much as I used to because once you get people hooked on you, they'll check your site as often as possible to see what you're up to and spread your gospel to the rest of the world. Remember what I said on how every move I make is calculated with extreme precision? Well, there you have it. Hah! I can't believe I'm revealing secrets. Oi Vey! God damn a Public Relations firm should just hire my fat ass stat!

4. Craigslist Bareback, Raw and Skiing
Craigslist used to be fun until my IP address got banned. I think they caught me on my amateur antics after I wrote about them on my blog. Now I can't even go there and to think, the NYC and SFO forums are AMAZING! Shame on me. Because I'm the most insecure bastard in the world, I like to post ads there with my pictures to see what kind of guys I attract. You know, for curiosity's sake. Sometimes I would post an ad saying "18 year slim guy needs dominant top under 35" using my "straight acting" pictures (we all know I fail in straight acting... and I fail in life) and sometimes I would post ads saying "SPERMINATE ME!!!! Let's make babies!" under T4M using pictures of me wearing a blond wig during an old Halloween party. There's this time when I got like 481 responses in a span of 3 hours. Can you believe it? Either I'm one hot bitch or everyone is just gagging for some anal action.

I don't know what it is but it's soo hilarious (and hot) looking at pictures of all these guys telling me what they want to do to me and talking dirty to me.

5. Damn Gaysians Hungry For White Cock
In the third world, being white is so prized everyone will do anything just to get themselves pumped by caucasian DNA. It really opens doors. A lot of doors. I get dozens upon dozens of emails from third world people asking for email addresses and contact information of people who appear on my site. It's crazy! Like I'm gonna give it to them. Here's another one: I once read this blog of a gay European journalist who visited Manila and when he went to this gay place, he got mobbed by like dozens of guys throughout the night asking how he is or whether he wants a drink or not -- people who don't know him. Stories like this are far too common. No wonder old caucasian pensioners go here as soon as they get their first retirement check. Anyway. About a year ago, a British friend and I did a little social experiment on a popular gay personals site in the flips to test it out. We made a profile using his photos (we said he's 6'2 but in reality he's 5'4 LOL) and within hours, our mailbox got so full with messages from all these brown fuckers. The responses range from the banal to the outrageous. On our second experiment, we made another profile with photos of a more, errr, mature man. Same thing. I was going to write an entry on my blog with responses and the pictures of the people who replied and then I felt guilty because some of these folk probably read my website. The desperation is hilarious... and entertaining... and sad, all at the same time. Some were clearly money boys. They're young and not bad at all and whenever we ask silly questions like "have you ever tried fisting? I'd love to fist you... how much would it cost" followed by pictures of fist fucking and then get answers like P1,500 (US$30) for the entire night and willing to do "everything", man, I don't know whether to cry or laugh. Oh who are we kidding, we're mean gurls so we laughed. Hah! I know, I know, we should be ashamed of ourselves but hell, we're all going to hell anyway so why not have fun in this lifetime?

It's sad though. It also didn't help the fact that most of the guys on that site are major fugs. Why don't you go online and look up Filipino gays (in the Flips) and most of them are fugly. FUGS! There are cute ones alright but they've got issues: either they're not out of the closet, they're taken, they're in showbiz, they're gay for pay or worse, they're in showbiz AND they're gay for pay. LOLers. I'm not hating. I know we're all beautiful in our own little ways but we only say that in order to look nice to people. Just kidding. You know, every time people from other countries see what gays in my country look like they always tell me I'm the hottest brown whore they've seen! For real. I swear to god. I can't even count the number of times I've had friends come over the years and naturally, they want to pull someone but they end up disappointed and who gets to suck cock? I do, which is sad. Hahaha. Just kidding. Yes I'm full of myself and being pretty has a price. A lot of my gay compatriots think I'm fugly but you know what, when the rest of the world loves you, who cares? There's only one thing to say to sum it up: BIG FISH, SMALL POND. I, on the other hand, well... fuck them damn fish... I'm MS Freedom of the Seas, the world's largest passenger vessel! Bring me the head of a third world gay guy who thinks I'm sexy and I'll pay you a pretty penny! I'M UNDERGOING A SEVERE CASE OF DROUGHT AND SOMEONE HAS TO PUT A STOP ON THE DRY SPELL! Hahaha!

Look at them gaysians and how they're all happy and then look at me how I'm a miserable queen! LOL

I know I'm gonna get hated by them exotic jungle birds but I still love them no matter what they look like (in fact, I love anyone regardless of what they look like; black, brown, periwinkle or chartreuse, I'm an equal opportunity lover!) because ultimately, I'm still one of them natives. My dad have always taught me to love my own. Except I'm queen of the fuglies! I need their -- YOUR -- damn votes assholes! LOL.

Email me and tell me you love me! My email address is bryanboy@gmail.com.

I love you all, as always.

Are gays born homosexual or are they made gay? Is homosexuality a lifestyle choice or is it something we are born with? Who -- or what -- are we supposed to blame? Someone's upbringing or someone's DNA?

My answer: I don't know. Perhaps both? I'm staying right in the middle with my gin tonic until the powers that be figures it out. I honestly can't decide whether it's nature or nurture. Some were just born that way while some, chose to be gay. Every single one of us were raised a certain way it's virtually impossible to single out the reason why people are gay. We're all exposed to so many people, things and experiences from the day we were born.

Proof that it's a little bit of both? Well, for the sake of discussion, let's assume that I was born gay. As long as I can remember (and I have pictures to prove it), I have always been effeminate... in touch with the soft, fluffy, chewy side since day 1 and no matter how hard I try to be all manly, it's just not "me".

But then again, just because someone is effeminate it doesn't necessarily mean someone is gay, right? Society associates effeminate behaviour with homosexuality because the majority of the male population are more... let's just say butch. However, if you look at all the gays now, testosterone and butchness and 'straight-acting' is so fucking glorified, fairies like me are a dying breed.

Perhaps it has something to do with my upbringing and my personal inner circle? I'm fortunate enough to have a family who are extremely supportive and they have always accepting. I also got almost everything I wanted as a child -- my Supertrump card collection, my Matchbox toy cars, my G.I. Joe action figures, my Barbie doll collection, my Lego sets, my Sanrio stationery, Lisa Frank stickers, everything. As for my own Maybach, that's a different story and I probably won't get one in this lifetime. To the manor born I am not. Hah!

Gender and sexuality has never been an issue in my family and neither one of my parents tried to "correct" me. There was no pressure whatsoever. It's funny because when you think about it, I'm the eldest child and my father's first son. And my dad is my grandparents' only son. You'd think they would be strict at me but they weren't. They were strict on other things, like how they want me to excel academically or strict when it comes to curfews and such. And to this date, I (still) have excellent relationships with both of my parents (and aunts, uncles, grandparents, cousins, you name it) and we've gone through a lot over the years.

Before someone says that there's an extreme lack of a "boy" influence on me, I also did a lot of things that are socially-accepted for boys. I loved the Simpsons. I chose the Bart doll over the Lisa doll. I preferred Lego over Polly Pocket. During summer time, I would pray to god that my parents send me to karate classes instead of taking up piano and music lessons (like our neighbours) and off to karate class I went. I played sport... until the 6th grade when I decided it's boring as hell.

It was only until during my teenage years that I became more and more aggressive with my feminine interests. I discovered Sailor Moon. I became obsessed with Clueless. I accidentally stumbled upon on my cousin's diaries and learned about crushes and love etc. I discovered Sweet Valley Kids, Twins, High and University. While my schoolmates obsessed about Archie comic books, I spent my allowance money buying the latest Sweet Valley books, Teen Beat, Tiger Beat, etc. Team Jessica Wakefield! Team Jonathan Taylor Thomas! (UGH I loved him back then I loathe him right now haha!) Whenever my mom went to the bookstore to buy the latest issue of Architectural Digest, Family Circle and Better Homes & Gardens (how peasant), I would flip through the pages of Vogue and Elle... until I bought my own.

Again, just because a child has feminine interests it doesn't necessarily mean homosexual.

As a young person, I've had crushes on both boys and girls. Since most of my school friends back then were girls, I felt I was one of the gang and when they gossiped about the guys they like, off I talked about the guys I, too, like. One of of our school christmas parties, my schoolmates made me kiss this guy on the cheek and I did! I honestly didn't thought of it as weird until a few people at school said IT WAS WEIRD. I got taunted here and there but what the heck, I also did the same when it come to other people. One of my seat mates in class, this butt ugly girl named Mylene, made it a mission to call me FAGGOT on a daily basis and in return, me and the other girl beside me called her CLIFFHANGER, as in she always have this nasty huge piece of boogey hanging from one of her nostrils.

It really is the outside world... the other kids... who made me feel I'm different, made me feel I'm not "normal", whatever normal is. I personally thought I was no different and not once I questioned myself (or anyone I know) why the kids were calling me all these names and labels. In my mind, so what if I find guys attractive? A few kids taunted and teased alright but every day is just another day and under no circumstances I changed myself to change the way they think of me. Did I make myself that way? Not really, no.

With all of that being said, one could easily assume I was made gay because of my upbringing but I really don't think that was the case. Would it make a difference had my parents been a little more strict when it comes to raising me? Had my parents forced me to take up things against my will or changed my interests, would I become a vajayjay worshipper? Besides, do children, who don't know any better, have control on what they find attractive?

I think not. If anything, my family allowed me to fully evolved to the person I want to be. They provided foundation and support at all times but they left me to grow on my own. If that involves sucking a big fat cock and getting fucked in the ass then so be it. That's how life is. Our past and our upbringing doesn't necessarily (and accurately) reflect the future.

Whether someone is born gay or made gay, it's all about acceptance. People should just let other people be. We should accept that we cannot control EVERYTHING in life, like acts of god, or stock markets crashing or the prices of luxury goods skyrocketing. We should also try (I said TRY) respect how people were born, how people were raised and also be more accepting of the choices people make in life, provided it doesn't bother us. There is no 'set' road map for anyone and we're all entitled to evolve in our own accord. Some people have more tendencies to be gay more than others, heck, I even think anyone, everyone CAN BE GAY... with the right person. If someone chooses to be gay after years of living straight then so be it. I know lots of people who THOUGHT they were straight but they end up batting for the other side one way or another. I even know lots of "straight" guys who go gay when they're drunked or drugged as a kite. I also know people who are absolutely straight until they fall in love, with, say, their best friend, who coincidentally is the same sex as them. What about notoriously straight adults who had (and presumable enjoyed) homosexual experiences when they were children?

At the end of the day, we're all unique in our own little ways and our lives, personal experiences, stories, opinions and choices are different from one another. It's pointless to categorize ourselves to just another label.
Email me and tell me you love me. My email address is bryanboy@gmail.com.

I love you all, as always!

Just remember what they all say: it's not gay until the balls touch.

I'm about to bite the hand that feeds me but here goes.

Exactly one year ago (coincidentally during the 2006 Gay Bloggies voting period) I made headlines in my country because of a simple yet effective blog entry that I posted.

What people didn't know (until now) is that blog entry was planned and executed with military-grade precision.

For years, I encouraged people around the world to send pictures of themselves holding a handbag and thrusting it to the air which is known as the infamous Bryanboy pose.

One day, two of my friends in England sent in their photos (taken from the back of a church) and I thought man, people are gonna go nuts over this.

Unfortunately, some thousands did.

You see, I'm no stranger when it comes to publicity tricks. Everyone does it ALL the time. If I got a paid every time I post something on my blog coming from PR companies promoting their wares or celebrities, socialites and the rest of the Z-list emailing me gossip, pictures and such, I'd be a millionaire by now.

Anyway, my friend and I concocted a cheap little plan.

• Fake email account? Check.
• Fake online petition because anyone new on teh internets think online petitions are still effective? Check.
• Sanctimonious holier-than-thou quote? Check.
• Crazy "ZOMG YOU ARE SO GONNA BURN IN HELL" letter with a ludicrous call-to-action? Check.
• Email a few folk and leave it to their hands to do a little viral marketing campaign. Check.

The result: countless blogs expressed their opinions and thousands of people (mostly hardcore Catholic Flips) made a reaction. My web hits skyrocketed, my numbers and page views are up, my affiliate sales quadrupled, my advertisers were happy and I exceeded my gmail email quota for the first time.

Even the Philippines' largest broadsheet wrote something about it.

You know you have it good when people, especially the ones who say they are gay *and* catholic go on a hate rampage and have the fans defend you by leaving comments like...

I've never had so many people wanting to have my head chopped off but I'm sure Paris or Britney probably have it worse. Boy it was a stunt well-played... until I released my Mrs. Granny Bee video a few weeks later.

Call me mentally-imbalanced or clinically-insane but there is something perverted in bringing the worst out of people, watch them go on a moral high horse and listen to the sweet sound of vitriol. I honestly can't count the number of times I found myself sitting in front of the computer, laughing at the sheer insanity and absurdity of it all.

Every once in a while I have people ask me questions like how I do feel about being hated or how do I feel when people think negatively on me. I just shrug it off to "occupational hazard". People will always find flaws or something negative to say. Do 1,000 good deeds and nobody is going to remember them. Do 1 bad thing and it's going to be magnified, scrutinized and remembered forever. That's just the way it is. We cannot -- and should not -- spend our entire lives changing how other people think. I'm in an industry where I'm not required to have a flawless and pristine image so why can't I use any negativity thrown my way towards my advantage?

I'm sure any web site owner would agree with me when I say that there is nothing more depressing than a day when your website hits reach a low. We live in times where shame is the new fame and a good ol' scandal brings home the bacon. Ask any gossip blogger how much money they made out of every young celebrity's coochie, crotch or mug shots... but gossip blogger I am not. If anything, haters and loonies contribute to the circus more than anyone else. When your income relies on visitors, the ones who drive traffic to your site are the ones who you should send a card come Christmas time. Think of them as your little marketing army. I once made a hate site for myself when I first started blogging (oh yes. oh shush!) and then I realized it's pointless. The amount of time and effort to publicize such hate site is better spent towards whoring my existing site so these days, I'll leave those sites to people who have spare time to burn. It also didn't help that I showed my hate site to a former friend who said it was SO obvious it was me. I'm such a crappy liar. I lie way too often and I always get busted out in the end because I simply cannot keep my mouth shut. Well, lies are not lies until they get caught and we all know the best liars NEVER get caught.

Or they HAVE lawyers.
Or publicists.
Or both.
Or they ARE lawyers or publicists.

I digress.

When you have a blog like mine, one cannot rely on great content alone to get traffic to their site. Some of the most successful blogs are the ones that are engaging. They poke and provoke people for a reaction and give a reason for people to keep coming back. For instance, every post I make is calculated. Are my hits dropping? Bring on the high heels and the camp antics! Are my hits up? Let's talk about fashion or raise awareness on relevant issues that affect society! While most of my entries are real and reflect different sides of me, some are for "fun". Some are boring and blah while some are made to make people sad. Some are even fabricated, fake and clearly for attention purposes while some are deliberately made to attract new visitors to my site. I'm not running for public office and I'm not one-dimensional so why not play a character? Give them an illusion. Play with people's misconceptions and prove them right. If you give 100% of yourself and there's nothing left to give when people start wanting for more. The key is to offer variety and leave it to the spectators on what to make out of what they see.

At the end of the day, it's good that I have people who get it, whatever "it" might be. As long as I still have some sort of following I'll be fine. Being heard by an audience, no matter how big or small, is the best feeling in the world.

Otherwise, there's always the good ol' sex tape. God forbid what would happen if I "leak" my 6-minute cellphone video of me getting gangbanged by 7 Russians.

Now *THAT* is a trick I hope I don't have to do.

Email me and tell me you love me. My email address is bryanboy@gmail.com. I love you all!

Hay boys! It seems like I'm the lone ranger waving the sissy flag.

17 my ass oh how I wish.

I've been blogging for years and quite frankly, if you haven't heard of me in any shape or form then you probably live under a rock somewhere. I exist and that's that. Besides, I'm not really good when it comes to introducing myself in front of them gays. The last time I pulled shit like this was back in 1999 when I went to a gay teen youth group meeting in London (never, I repeat, never read Time Out when you're bored and horny). I wore a massive Gucci fox fur coat that night and my opening line was "is this the gay teen youth group? am I the only gay person around here?" You should've seen the fracas and the commotion I created amongst a bunch of 15 year old Adidas-and-Reebok clad English boys -- culture shock in their own homeland. It was soo strange because the topic that night was "coming out" and all these young boys were being melodramatic about coming out to the people they love and I couldn't relate at all. They even put me on the spot, asking all sorts of silly questions but they totally avoided asking me whether I'm out. I think it was good that they didn't ask me because I never had to "come out". In my case, there was really no need for it. I'm lucky enough to have an amazing family who just "knew" the moment I busted out of my mum's vajayjay with flying colours. It was then that I realized I don't belong to a god damn youth group, I belong to a nightclub, getting my ass gangbanged in the darkrooms that I should be more accepting of the gays -- they come in various shapes, sizes and colours and none of them are as lucky as I am.

I'm obliged to tell more about myself so if you haven't come out of the big giant pink box, well...

I'm Bryanboy and I'm planet earth's favourite third world fag. I'm so gay I sweat glitter! I'm also the one-man circus princess behind Bryanboy.com. I live in the cesspit of the third world also known as the Philippines (third world represent!). I like to tell people I'm 17 years old but in reality I'm 19. I don't let my age get in the way. After all, age is only a number... until you turn 30, that is.

I love fashion but my own personal style is highly questionable. Some people think I'm full of myself while some think I self-deprecate too much. I like to watch arses get filled with hot creamy white population paste but I'm a "bottom boi" or whatever the hell they call it these days, "power bottom"? Eeew. Anyway, I'm full of contrasts and that's what makes me colourful. Repeat after me: I'm a smart, intelligent, businesswoman.

Random trivia: I love anything striped. I like going to remote places where nobody can see me prance around in high heels, take pictures in exchange for lots of web hits. 65 Guy Creampie starring Ariana Jollee is my favourite movie ever, followed by Romy & Michelle's High School Reunion. When I was 13, I used to call those phone sex hotlines in the Carribean that you find on the back pages of Rolling Stone magazine. My favourite line to pick up guys? "Hi, my name is Amber, I'm 16 and I have a bald pussy." I have a small tattoo of a gecko beside my belly button that I got when I was 14.

And there you have it. Visit my blog, www.bryanboy.com, if you want to learn more about me.

Geography is no boundary when it comes to Bryanboy's faggotry. Email me and tell me you love me! My email address is bryanboy@gmail.com.

I love you all! Keep the faggotry alive!

PS. Stop whatever it is that you are doing and vote for me.

PPSS. You know the other day, one of my straight Serbian friends asked me what gays in my country look like. I wanted to shut my piehole and not make a comment until he googled and found photos of one of the gay clubs in Manila (I've only been there once earlier this year)... and then I realized, dayuuummmm I'm pretty... and it hurts!

Just kidding!! OMG. I love everybody so vote for me ;)