Category Archives: Travel

[VIDEO BLOG] MDJ Superstar’s Bangkok Love Shack

It’s no coincidence that Bangkok is one of the favorite destinations for a rugged, manly man such as MDJ Superstar. For porn-obsessed perverts like him, any place that phonetically suggests the “banging of cocks” is, by default, instantly a Top 10 vacation site worthy of the favour of a man some call “The 21st Century Ron Jeremy, only even more incredibly good-looking, despite being slightly less magnificently hairy.”

Ain't no Bangin' of Cocks without some proper Ron Jeremy!

One thing that MDJ Superstar really digs about Southeast Asian travel is the preponderance of extremely nice little boutique hotels that make it possible to live it up in style without having to subsist on a diet of stale bread stolen from abandoned restaurant tables, and tepid rainwater wrung from one’s grubby sock.

Take this adorable little place, for instance. Citadines 8 Apart’Hotel, just off bustling, vibrant Sukhumvit Road, and one tuktuk ride away from Nana Station.

The disarmingly wholesome-looking facade of MDJ's Bangkok love shack.

It’s managed by the Ascott Group of Hotels, which gives you an indication of what sort of quality to expect. Pricing, however, is very pocket friendly. One night in the Executive Studio cost just THB 1,500 through its online booking service – an amount which, in Manila, would probably net you just a 4-hour stay in Victoria Court’s ever-popular X-Men room with a side order of lechon kawali. Value for money at its finest.

The room where I stayed? Completely love shack-worthy.

The Executive Studio at Citadines 8: Where cheap sex doesn't have to feel cheap.

But did MDJ Superstar enjoy his One Night Stand in Bangkok City? Watch the video below to find out!

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I’m Better By Accident Than On Purpose

One of the most crushing things about this weekend was the realization that when it comes to taking DSLR photos, I completely, utterly suck.

Just how bad?

The single decent shot I took came completely by accident, when I hit the shutter button while attempting to discreetly pick my nose, before I even got to aim. Irritating! The resultant shot looked like something chic and posh and very urban.. like the 2011 Spring/Summer catalog of Bunny Jeans, or quite possible the latest print spread by Freego in Women’s Home Companion magazine..

I did, however, manage to reassure myself that I possess a singularly awesome talent that remains unrivaled in at least 48 American states, and 83% of Northern Luzon precincts – I can weigh an ungodly 230-lbs, yet put on a horizontally-striped shirt and still look as sleek and svelte and agile as if I weighed just 218..

Yes. I truly am a Superstar..


All shots taken at Oh My Gulay, 5/F La Azotea Building, Session Road, Baguio City. All clothing and accessories, unless otherwise indicated, are models’ own, and are assuredly obscenely expensive.

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Anvaya Adventures with the Superstar

I just wanted to post this picture from our teambuilding at Anvaya Cove last week to point out one fact:

With the proper angling and an artfully-placed foreground obstruction in a strategic location, my immense gut is nicely hidden, and all that’s left to admire are my ungodly arms.

I was also put in a very kinky situation over the course of the morning.

Have you ever tried bondage? I hadn’t before last week, but I really couldn’t say no to the cute morena staff member in vajayjay shorts who wanted to tie me up. I should have gotten her number. She’d had her way with me. I deserved to have had mine with her! An eye for an eye, right?

Was also very nice to be presented with an award from the regional team for prior efforts with my previous brand. It was a very nice plaque. Much better than Recto quality, I will concede.

Plus, it was quite nice to have evidence that not only are we incredibly gorgeous, we are very smart as well.

Anvaya Cove was a very nice place to have this two-day session away from the usual office environment. The food was excellent, the accommodations and facilities superb, and you cannot help but be in love with a place that features such an dominating phallic symbol as its signature landmark.

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Where The Elephants Go To Die (MDJ Waxes Poetic About His Thailand Invasion)

While waiting to board my flight back home to Manila, I felt it – as pungent as a ripe cheese, as persistent as a broken promise, as irresistible as Wendell Ramos: It was the urge to write!

And not in prose, the urge insisted, but in meter, in rhyme, and in verse!

And so I succumbed.

This is a poem I wrote in honor of Thailand. It’s REALLY GOOD.


Where The Elephants Go To Die*

Thailand smells of lemongrass,
Cilantro and hot chilies.
But sleeping in my bed alone
Sure did give me the willies.

A ghost came by to visit me;
I could have done without.
It made me want to scream with fear
(Though real men should shout).

But gosh, the malls! The retail stores!
The shopping boulevards!
Telling myself not to whip out
My credit card was hards!



(…OK, that was a bad rhyme…)

I almost bought a pair of sneaks
From Puma x McQueen,
But I recalled my bank account;
It was getting quite lean.

By that same logic, I felt obliged
To find a snazzy present.
But nothing seemed to catch my eye.
Coke sure is effervescent.

I had a blast, but shan’t return
To good old BKK.
For the “girls” that populate the bars
Are ladyboys, or gay.

The Ladyboys of Thailand



* Please note that the title of this poem had absolutely nothing to do with the content. If there’s one thing I learned from The Dave Barry School of Poetic Profundity, it’s that the less a poem has to do with what it’s called, the more spectacular its chances of winning an award. It’s true. Just look at all the hardware he’s won for poetic achievement. Really.

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Bangkok Night of Horrors: MDJ Superstar vs. The Ghost of BKK

I think I was haunted by a Bangkok ghost in the middle of the night.

Horrible, horrible sleepless time.

I’m booked at the Grand Sukhumvit Hotel – first time in Bangkok, very pretty hotel, company-accredited so they upgraded me to a Platinum Suite for free. Thank you, I said, That’s very kind.

Turns out I was wrong.

I knew something was wrong with the room the moment I saw it. The bed has a beam hanging over the head. If you know your feng shui, that’s a major no-no.

So anyway, after a long day of shopping, foodtripping, and a beer at the hotel bar by myself, I treated myself to a long soak in the hot tub, and settled in to sleep. I turned off the airconditioning in the bedroom, since I thought the living room could take care of my cooling needs.

And so I slept.

Cut to a few hours later, when I awoke with a start. I could neither breathe nor move, although I was fully conscious.

I felt Something with me.

I don’t know why, but my first thought was to shout, “YOU CANNOT HAVE ME.” – imagine Gandalf warding off the Balrog in Lord Of The Rings, (“YOU SHALL NOT PASS!”) and that was me.

Strangely, I couldn’t mouth the words. I was frozen.

Despite the A/C being off, the room temperature nosedived. It was icy cold. My senses had heightened, and I could HEAR all my hairs raising, bristling and recoiling against the sheets.

Everything I had seen in The Sixth Sense was happening.

I had to mentally wrestle myself out of this state, and eventually succeeded in proclaiming to Whoever Was There, YOU CANNOT HAVE ME.

Needless to say, my heart was racing. I had to talk myself back to sleep over the next hour.

Now I’m sitting downstairs at the breakfast buffet. Wolfed down a mountain of bacon to fortify myself. Bacon > ghosts, after all.

I’m changing rooms, obviously.

But it’s very telling that my first instinct after going through all this was, ZOMGZ I SO HAVE TO TWEET THIS. But that’s me. I find courage in articulating these things to the online world.

Don’t ever stay at the Grand Sukhumvit Hotel. It’s very pretty but also creepy.

Most people use the words “Bangkok Night of Horrors” to describe their first time at Patpong. Too bad in my case it had to involve an actual haunting.

But at least I have something to blog about..

An artist's reenactment of MDJ's encounter with the otherworld last night.

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