✮ FASH Report ✮

THERE'S NO SUCH THING AS TOO MUCH TEQUILA

So the other day a long time friend (by show-business standards) from my natal Hot España Olé came to visit (he's not pictured cause he was taking the pictures) and see me in my new Swedish venture. My flat-mate (pictured) joined us and made the most of it, he even got in trouble with the boyfriend, cause Tequila is not a good friend of the boyfriended. Fun!

CONFIRMED: I LOOK LIKE A WHORE

While I was in Paris I had the chance to experience that beautiful moment every little girl dreams about: being offered prostitution. Again. In my hometown it was sort of to be expected cause I in fact reside right in Whora Felatio Street with Tranny Latino Boulevard, but c'mon, in chic Paris?

In my defense I'll disclose that the amount was five hundred euros... and a limousine home. Now that's class, innit? By the pre-proposition chatter with the guy, I got that apparently he had quite the moneys, traveling from Australia all the time because he worked in a company that blah blah marketing blah blah name dropping of household brands blah. Most of the time he was just telling me that I was "fucking gaw-jaz" (that's gorgeous in Australian). That was in the meantime of him buying me a drink, which I grudgingly accepted because I figured being honest never got anyone much far, and as my budget was comfortably spilling out from restrain I decided I could use some help from my pretty face to get some help for my wallet.

When the big bald spicy-breathed sir suggested he wanted to pay for something more than a drink that night, I pulled my best aw I shouldn't've accepted the drink performance. I have to say, I'm good at it. With my refusal he went from three hundred, to four, to five, that's for just half to one hour in his hotel and then the car home, he said "limousine", I'm gonna assume it'd be more like a car with a driver. I'm just too modest to believe that. The reason why I believe he had the moneys is because as good tacky money person, he had a stack of bills on hand, and well, I think I saw all the five hundred euro bills I had to see in this life, I'm done.

So in the end, me and my catholic apostolic fucking romanic values went home with a French Poor to a thirteen square meters 'apartment'. I'm telling you, being respectable sucks. But I'm lying like the whore I am, it's not values that stopped me, it's apprehension. If he had been Richard Gere I would be now the star of Pretty Woman: Havanna Nights, where the movie ends with a sky view of me driving my Hummer through a San Francisco-like bridge, having two iPhones as earrings, listening to Daft Punk featuring Ciara, very loud, moving my arms up with a big smile.

THE DAY PARIS AND I MET

OK so I haven't blogged in almost two months, get over it I always do this! Anyway moving on. Last week I was in Paris, and well, gawd. I mean, Paris!!

It was my first time there as an adult and I always had wanted to go (duh) so I finally booked a cheap-ass flight from my current swedish whereabouts and went by myself. Yep, all alone. I know, but as I like to say 'if you wait for someone to be ready to go with you to Paris you will end up a pregnat teenager addicted to glue'. That saying sounds much wiser in chinese really. Everytime I told someone I was going alone I would end up saying that I knew people there, not to be embarrassed and get the 'you're a freak' look.

But the truth is all on my own it was such a magical experience. In general it was so Carrie in the Sex And The City finale, just wandering around, going to museums, etc. But then in the weekend even though I thought I wouldn't go out (cause going out alone was a little too freaky even for me), I realized that gay people is so friendly that just by asking someone where some bar was I would automatically be invited to go out. That was in my naive little mind, and well, in reality... that's exactly what happened! I'm telling you, being gay is sometimes a blessing. Can you imagine that happening in the hetero world?

So just the first couple of gays that I stopped turned out to be so funny and open and we went to this place called CUD, which was your standard tacky gay night bar, with a floor downstairs to dance and stuff. It was loads of fun. When they decided to go I was drunk enough to stay on my own, and then I run into some friend of a friend of a friend from my hometown back in Hot España Olé (for realz), and he introduced me to his group of friends. I bonded with one of them, Pablo, who's the sweetest thing I have ever seen in my life. Sweet sweet sweet pie. Doll. 29 years old. Refreshing. So I was with them until some french guy came and stole me and we ended up putting on the most dismal show one can put on in one's life: the sexual dancing in a night club.

EWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW

Okay I'm sowy! I was drunk and he kissed well! Lame excuse I know, there's no excuse for doing the 'porn show'. Well at least we weren't in the middle, I took it to the privacy of the place next to a table agaist the wall. At least one side of the baby-making live-documentary was censored. You gotta give me some credit for that. That's lame excuse number two. So when I decided frolicking was one thing, getting fingered in public was crossing the line, he suggested we took it to his home. And so we did. And the rest is what happened in Paris and stayed in Paris.

The next day we said goodbye and though we later talked and he said I could go out with him and friends, I thought I'd be better off going to a club with Pablo and friends, and so I did, and so I discovered that Paris is a great place for being single and gay, because even though I didn't hook up with anyone, the amount of people and the vibe in that place (called Bataclan) were really uplifting. Pablo was his doll self and I liked him even more, I wanted to hug the fuck out of him.

Next day was coming back to reality day. By noon I'd be back in Nyköping (Sweden) once again, working and having claustrophobia attacks here and there. And even though Paris' weather had been incredibly gentle my whole stay, it'd be gray and sad in my leave. That's how I imagined it, in reality... that's exactly how it happened. It had all been a cotton-candy musical dream and I suddenly woke up from it with the cold of the scandinavian snow in my face.

MESSAGE TO MY 2.9 MILLION READERS A DAY

I'VE BEEN STUDYING!!!

(I was studying for realz in the picture, it was taken by a flatmate)

That's why I've been missing for so painfully long! I know you've cried and super cried and all but I haven't died or anything, and I don't want my cute blog to die either! So even though I'm quite busy these days I'm gonna try and update. Pinky swear.

;)

WHEN I GO BALD

There's a time in the life of a man when you discover you're life starting that moment will never be the same and there's nothing you can do about it. Everything you know, everything people think about you, you're whole world is staggering and the epicenter is your mirror. Where there should be an Amazon there's barely a Martha Stewart garden.

Discovering that unlike George Clooney, Brad Pitt and every other star passed 40 (because you can't be a star if you're bald in case you hadn't noticed) you'll join the select and feared group of light haired men is a traumatizing experience for the straight men, it's a heart-breaking moment for the gays, and a suicide detonator for the bottom fellows.

I stay strong. Bouquets can be sent to my mail. I'll be listening to this song imagining that instead of "When I grow up" it says "When I go bald" and talks about fun and fabulous things that happen when that time arrives.

 

THE PUSSYCAT DOLLS - WHEN I GROW UP
Cargado por The-Pussycat-Dolls

DON'T TOUCH MY CHANEL DOG

I MEAN, HELLO  ?

    This baby bitch is cute I'm telling you, not only she's sweet but she looks like she was designed by Karl himself (I call him Karl cause we're so close oh so close).   
    She's been living at my home for about a month and she's leaving tomorrow to her new and permanent home with the parents of my Argentinian roomy girl. Actually I'm a bit relieved cause it's a bit annoying, you have to be careful about everything: close every door, don't let her do this, don't let her do that, don't step on her shit and pee cause she does it everywhere... ugh, plus I don't get the good about a dog which is sleeping next to her, walking her to meet cute boys with dogs, etc. So yeah, I think we'll be better off without each other. Oh listen to me all cat person.

P.S.:

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WORKING IS ONLY FUN ON 'THE HILLS'

    A few weeks ago I started working as a PR for some night club in my humble hometown which I rarely if ever name here to preserve the mystery among readers (oh wait! I have no readers!). Well PR sounds like I have responsibilities and truth is my job is to parade downtown looking for the glam and the freak to give them flyers and convince them with my charm and wit that our club is the best (oh wait! I have not charm nor wit!), and I do it only Tuesdays, when there's no one on the streets. 'Best' thing is I earn in proportion to the people I get in, so with my lack of social skills and the unfortunate conditions I'm basically doomed (hey! just like Lipstick Jungle!). I'm the worst PR ever. God I miss when I worked at Zara and I had a sure bill waiting by the end of the month, only I wouldn't go to class evar. Anyway, happy happy times, let's just ☀ a little.
    The picture above was taken last Tuesday at the club's bathroom (weekends crowded). The boy in the right is my boss (super super hilarious), the head of PRs, in the middle the one I usually work with, and in the left you recognize the piece of fierceness that is me.

YOU KNOW, I SHOULD BE STUDYING...

BUT!
    Hello, when have I done what I should do?
    Right.
    So I was playing with my camera, in bed, and I recorded something, and since I hadn't used iMovie 08 yet and I was dying to I did this little something, which is a stupidity in all its glory, but I have a blog, so why not post it and let my readers (that is me, myself on drugs, and my inner child) see my face and listen to my voice in fancy technicolor for the first time?

    Tip: wait until it's fully loaded cause it's HD so it takes a while. And you can even play it full screen for a more cinematic mediocrity.

YOU MAY THINK I'M DELIRIOUS BUT I'M SO DAMN SERIOUS

[Updated (days later): Oh my I just saw the video again and it's soo ridiculous HAHA but even though I'm a bit embarrassed I won't take it down cause as Napoleon said right before he died: what's posted is posted cause if not you'll be a blogging whore.]

SEE YA 2007, SUP 2008

    Last picture of 2007:

    First of 2008:

    The fancy lovely dinner before:

    We poors and our dinners... so cute.

    After the dinner we went to the city hall to eat the grapes (that's what we hot olé Spaniards do), drink cava and all that, then the plan was to come back to my house castle (as we call it since I moved in) to get drunk like bananas do a bit of a cocktail hour and then leave to some night club, but when we arrived I realized I had left home with no keys, no wallet, no money, no credit card, NO. CELL. PHONE. (that's a biggie), no nothing. It was New Year's Eve, my flat-mates were in their respective countries, only the Spanish one was in town but he kinda leaves for days without saying, and I couldn't talk to him without my cellphone. So fucked up. I was homeless, but I was homeless with a vest and a bow tie, at least.

    Anyway, life's short, we went out, we got drunk, I got drunk as in years, I remembered what it was to be that drunk (that's not really that much cause I'm not usually fan of drinking much), the fucking waiters at the club were dressed exactly like me but with ties, so I was not at all, just in my imagination only mildly the star of night. I flirted with countless guys, I groped with some Moroccan that kept telling me to go to the bathroom with him, I assume he simply wanted me to guide him to it, and thank God I didn't drink a couple of drinks more cause I might have been persuaded. My poor innocent me, what drinking makes of myself?

    My friends were here and there, some maybe ended drunk enough to show the way to some guy who maybe I heard had a huge personality and maybe ended with some There´s something about Mary in his drunken face. But I'll just let your imagination fly from here. After that I went to sleep in one of my friend's house, taking this cute picture on our freezing way:

    2 homeless days later here I am finally home and being able to write this. It was bad, but I say the worst you begin the year the better it'll be.

    My New Year resolutions? mmm way too many to be realistic, so I'll just say keep doing as well as I can, not to be hard on myself for a change.

DANCING WITH THE RELATIVES

    Christmas Eve is a time to gather with your family or be sad if you don't have one. I have one so I wasn't sad, mostly bored. I do like my family it's just I never talk to them, I think they think I'm dumb. How sad. Anyway I'm not gonna bore you with my reflexions on the absurdness of some parts of me, I'll just let you watch my family shake their booties cause that's why you came and paid. By the way that's my grandma in the middle of it.

    Before that I was in this friend's house to smoke a little, that's Christmas for us kids these days what do you want, and, I made the most perfect joint I've ever done, so beauty, so I wanted to share it with you guys cause you're special and deserve it.