Archives for posts with tag: Ron Jeremy

I think it was Vidal Sassoon who famously once said that “Your hair is your crowning glory.”

And with a coif as masterful as that at age 107, who could argue with him? One only looks as good as one’s hair, and every girl and reasonably self-aware male above the age of 14 understands that all it takes is one bad hair day to ruin an otherwise magnificent ensemble.

So where does this leave bald men, i.e. the scintillatingly heart-stopping MDJ Superstar?

I have defended my skinheaded look by name-dropping countless examples of Beautiful Bald Men – those who have not relied on Bieber-esque locks to cause panties to get damp and brassiers to go flying. Agassi. Statham. Willis. Diesel. Connery. The Rock. Malkovich. These are men who have proven time and again that a shiny pate can be just as sexy as a Rob Pattinson flop-top.

It’s hard not to get jealous sometimes though.

The art of styling one’s hair is therapeutic, it’s a space of zen where masculinity and grace come together in a sensual mesh. I wish I could do it, but I haven’t got hair on my head.

Or… do I?

Facial hair is an underappreciated canvas for men to exhibit a bit of artistic expression. The conventional way is to grow a basic goatee, but I think that’s too safe, even with an occasional soulpatch for added effect.

(Caveat: Facial hair should never be TOO cultivated, lest one look like either a boyband member or Dr. Joel Mendez, neither of which is a good thing.)

There are so many joyous creations that can be sculpted out of facial hair.

Why not rock out with Lemmy Kilmeister-esque Motorhead Handlebar, also gloriously featured on the cover of the Beatles’ “Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band”?

Or if one is feeling a bit redneck-ish, throw on a country spin with muttonchop sideburns and a 70s porn star  ’stache? (Ron Jeremy would be very proud of this one)

For Asian-themed parties, there’s always the classic Fu Manchu.

And what Mexican-inspired outfit wouldn’t be complete without a Mariachi Mustachio?

(At this point, I was feeling very politically-correct, and skipped the organic next step: The Adolf Hitler barcode. I don’t know any Jews, but think they are a wonderful people.)

It’s always emotionally-painful to go back to a completely clean-shaven look, but that’s where all good things must begin.

What’s your favourite facial hair style? Leave me feedback below, and if I like your input strongly enough, I just might carve it out of the beard I’m currently growing. You might not be able to shape the world, but you can shape my facial hair!

Leave a comment and help me decide what groovy shape to carve out of my beard!

How’s that for the first ever Interational MDJ Superstar Manscaping Promo???

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!

So I finally got around to shopping around for a pad in Makati where I can crash on weekdays.

I was kidding around with my friends that what i really wanted was a Palace of Sex, where I could loudly and very vocally proclaim I was bringing home drunk girls for one night stands (Riiiiiight…)

So anyway, I hooked up with a very friendly broker who promised he could show me two very promising units in Salcedo Village. Both, he insisted, were a ten minute walk away from work (which turned out to be true), and were in a quiet, clean, safe, peaceful neighborhood (which was also true – did you know that Barangay Bel-Air won the Greenest & Cleanest Barangay World Heavyweight Championship belt five years in a row?)

I was so excited Friday night that I did a little midnight drive around Salcedo Park just to do a pre-ocular ocular of the places. The locations were superb – both practically fronting the Park.

The first one had a KFC right across it (for MDJ Superstar’s protein needs), not one, not three, but TWO Starbucks’ within a one minute walk, Fitness First/Ponti right behind it, and an ATM/laundromat right on the ground floor. The place itself was not so awesome, it needs a lot of fixing up, and while it’s on the 24th floor of a 25-story building, my view would be nothing but the ventilation shaft running down its spine.

The second one, I had high hopes for – the broker told me it was owned by an interior decorator, so she’d turned it into her personal project. That got my excited! Cut to me walking into the unit, and my heart slowly crumbling into bits as images of “Boogie Nights” played in my head.

White vinyl couches? Check.

Wall-to-wall carpeting? Check.

Multiple full length mirrors stretching around the whole unit? Check.

Fake plastic plants embedded into the walls? Check.

A purple bed? Check.

A fake fireplace? Check.

Too many checks! Too much fail!

Apparently, whoever did the interior design had “Palace of Sex” in mind too when she fixed up the place. It’s just too bad that her idea of sex happens to be set firmly in the early 1980s, with images of Ron Jeremy echoing in her heart…

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