adventures in neverland

he is still the face of the summer, even if it's about to end. let paolo (or paulo) avelino quench your thirst. hope his star continues to shine until the dreary winter, when we all need a hot body to keep us warm. that's all, fairies, bitches, princesses, witches and wannabes! enjoy the rest of the tiresome week. (i don't own these pictures. they were all taken from the internet. no copyright infringements intended, chos! please don't sue the poor, hopeless moi.)

(first posted september 2011 in glamourous manille. inspired by dinner with the zomvadings.) the adventures of priscilla, queen of the desert  will always be my benchmark for one hell of a great movie about gay men having such a time of their lives. it's a bitch feast at its best, to say the least! it has it all: great actors with no qualms about portraying out of this world campy characters, riotous and well-choreographed musical numbers, outlandish and pompous costumes, crisp script and a director who knows how to handle such an over the top material with care. local film makers who aspire to come up with a decent and fun movie about gay men that will appeal to a broader audience should use it as a template. don't copy it dahlins. be inspired by it, but avoid being its mediocre little twin sister. shame! copying is so tacky, it's lyk wearing crocs over a lanvin dress. just leave that to you

all our unhappiness comes from our inability to be alone  - jean dela bruyere, french writer, artist, moralist. “ a   table just for one sir? ” i always get this question in restaurants and bars here or abroad, in a tone suggesting that i am not welcome because i am by myself.  the waiter would always give me that look, as if telling me that i am such a loser i could not even invite my mother for dinner or for a drink.  of course he would prefer a bigger company because that would mean more sales, maybe a bigger tip. i understand that.  but........... &&&&& why are people so uncomfortable in being alone and in seeing others alone too, not just in restaurants and bars but almost everywhere – movies, shopping malls, boutiques, airplanes, airports, salons, spas? it always amuses me to hear some of my friends (these are the most independent people with strong personalities) telling me that they want to try this newly opened restaurant or the

i want to live in a luchino visconti movie.  be surrounded by luxurious houses, beautiful people, expensive art pieces. i want to be among his handsome leading men like helmut berger and alain delon. i want to be in his films like conversation piece (a favourite), ludwig, death in venice, the damned, rocco and his brothers. (watch these clips from conversation piece and see what i mean:) most of visconti's movies are all about the very rich in italian society, the counts and the duchesses. (which is not surprising because he was an aristocrat himself, a count.) they live in those grand palaces, wear the most fabulous outfits and live such decadent lives. his men, in particular, are always young and gorgeous, just like his lover helmut berger. berger is among the sexiest men to ever appear on film along with alain delon. every time i feel the blues, i turn to visconti's cinema. a glimpse of the on

it was a quarter past eight. too early in the morning for angels of the dark to be awake. his mind was a fog.  he could hardly keep his eyes open. he was standing at the lobby of the four seasons hotel, waiting for the lift to come and take him to the grand ballroom. where he would spend an hour in the company of bankers, fund managers and business men in dark suits. listening to a famous international economist talk about asia's economic prospects over the next ten years. how china's trumpeted economic miracle is standing on shaky grounds. all it will take is just a minor shake and the whole thing will crumble. or does it? he was dressed appropriately (an outsider pretending to be part of the circle, but still looking like an outsider). in beige brooks brothers pants. cut narrowly to flatter his well toned legs. baby pink paul smith shirt, topped with dark blue blazer from ralph lauren. tom ford glasses to cover his still sleepy eyes and dark spots under them. brow

in between dating, haunting, bouts of insomnia, meeting friends over coffee or wine,  nursing a hang over with massage and two glasses of bloody mary at staunton, watching movies at ifc and pacific place, dvd hunting, updating my wardrobe and cruising in the river styx, i still find time to read books, i mean novels. chos! a lot.  i have never read this much for as long as i can remember. ah the price of being luvless..but i am not complaining. this goddess needs to feed her peanut-sized brain once in a while..hahaha. so far i have finished these (oh please, no bragging rights intended): (mr. hollinghurst never disappoints. his prose is poetry in disguise -- elegant just lyk most of his characters, lush, rich and delicious. it's lyk watching a merchant ivory film or a bbc classic on teevee. now i want to read again his previous books.) (i can totally relate to mr. orwell. my version would be, down and out in makati and malate.) (my third time to read