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STD checking

In my pay-for-play exploits, I have one cardinal rule---use a condom. I know that using a condom is not a 100% guarantee against sexually transmitted diseases (STDs), but I suppose that I have more chances getting hit by a car than getting an STD while using a condom. When I get emails from readers divulging that they have STDs, all of them have admitted that, at some point in time, they had sex without a condom.

So let's say you had a moment of weakness and went unprotected. Maybe it was that alcohol you imbibed or that erotic lady you paid for that clouded your judgement. Your tryst is wild and wanton. But then your urges have been assuaged, and you regain your senses, and the fear of an STD gnaws in your psyche like Rod Serling's earwig. I need not elaborate on the list of possible STDs; there's Google and Wikipedia for that. (Coincidentally, as I was writing this, Philippine Star came out with an article on genital warts) The symptoms of STD include soreness, unusual lumps or sores, itching, pain when urinating, or a discharge. Some diseases take days to show its symptoms; AIDS symptoms show up in months or years if untreated. Peace of mind can only be obtained by visiting a doctor. If you have any of the symptoms, you definitely have to see a doctor. And avoid any sexual contact until you are cleared.

Visiting a doctor for a STD examination need not be an humiliating moment. You can go to any hospital front desk and ask for a urologist. A urologist does not only handle STDs---they also handle kidney disorders and urinary tract infections---so right off the bat you have some other plausible explanation why you are need to see a urologist.

You then go to the clinic, fill up the forms, write down any name you want (they don't ask for identification), and tell the doctor that you want be tested for an STD. There's no reason to be ashamed. Lots of guys get STDs.

The doctor will put on gloves and examine your genitals. I've always wondered if there are sexy female urologists. I bet that if there is one, there'll be a surge of men having themselves tested.

The examination is rudimentary. The standard blood test, which is needed for HIV testing, is painless. One "standard" test, however, is for the urologist to shove a swab inside your urethra. Yes, gentlemen, that's the duct inside your penis where both urine and semen pass through. The doctor will instruct your to take a deep breath, hold it, and then when he is inserting it inside your penile canal, you should let loose a slow exhale. Does it relieve the pain? No.

One of my friends who went through a STD test also had to go through a prostate examination. He detailed how the assistant inserted a finger up his anus, probed for the prostate, pressed down on the prostate hard enough to let loose some fluid. My friend said that he had to hold on to some railing inside the clinic and when it was over, he was surprised to find that tears have rolled down his cheeks. Sheesh, even while writing this I get the goose bumps.

I have heard that treatment for some STDs is easy and straight-forward, provided that it is detected early. Treatment for some STDs (like gonorrhea) is just some pills. I have heard that treatment for genital warts is similar as that of the "normal" warts---cauterization. I can imagine some miniature light saber thingy carving away that nasty wart just as one would carve a slice of ham on Christmas eve.

But if you think that is nasty, imagine what would happen when you tell your companion that you obtained some disease and that you could have passed it to her. Good luck with that.

(Photo Credit)

Thoughts while having a burger

Last weekend I took a friend out to Greenbelt where we watched 2012. She had originally wanted to watch New Moon, to which I promptly declared "Over my dead body!" Fortunately, 2012 was showing in one theater. 2012, while probably just as brainless, was at least entertaining. While leaving the theater, a group of guys were proclaiming superatives at the movie.

"Fantastic!" they said.

"Best movie I have seen!" another said.

"Best movie ever!"

I shuddered. Best movie ever? I mean, has this guy ever watched a movie? Has he been stuck with mindless Pinoy slapstick comedies and drama flicks with talentless performers?

I then took her to Lusso. I was curious about their Foie Gras Burger, which I read about at Our Awesome Planet. It was, as Anton Diaz raved, better than delicious. My companion raved about it as well. "Much better than Jollibee." I shuddered once more. At P600 a burger, it better be fucking better than Jollibee! "Best burger I've tasted!" she proclaimed.

And so as I tasted the melted Cambozola cheese, as I savored the succulent fatty liver flavor, as the burger juices oozed through my fingers, I realized that some people are not suited to be critics and reviewers. In the context of this site, some people cannot be trusted when it comes to giving "field reports," which are, in the adult forum parlance, conveniently abbreviated to "FRs."

Movie critics and movie reviewers watch hundreds of movies. They watch comedies, musicals, love stories, horror movies, thrillers, foreign films, black-and-white films, short films, animated films, documentaries. Some have studied film. They are particular of the nuances of cinematography, soundtrack, and screenwriting.

A person would probably describe a Jollibee burger as delicious, but I wonder if that person's description would change once he has experienced a Foie Gras burger. How can one say that some burger is the "best" if he hasn't tried all the burgers? How can one say that a given product or service is 10 out of 10 if all the person experienced is those in the "Happy Budget Meal" category?

So when some bozo decides to produce FR, I wonder what qualifications he would consider a perfect score. Virgins would probably rate their first sexual encounters as a 10 out of 10, regardless of what the PSP did. She could be fast asleep for all we know.

The Sperm Test

A few days ago, for no special reason than to assuage my curiosity, I decided to get a sperm test. I imagined a private room with adult videos. And maybe there would be a sexy female assistant to "assist" me. Perhaps she would be clad in a pristine-white nurse uniform, just like this:

Sadly it was not the case.

The doctor gave me a small plastic cup and gestured me to enter his private washroom, which was so small that I could not stretch my arms horizontally without touching the walls. The assistant was a scrawny, curly-haired female with the sex appeal of a turtle. The doctor offered me some magazines, which were faded, crumpled, and had off-putting white stains where the pages obviously stuck together. I frantically did my business and spewed my manhood into the receptacle. I had sex the day before so I was not exactly proud of the volume.

It took the doctor just a few minutes to do his analysis, which did little to reassure me. Fortunately, he came back and said that my sperm count is above average with good motility. I felt like a kid that just got a passing grade. At least I can still father a child. But after a few minutes, I was not sure I was just handed over good or bad news. On one hand, I could get someone pregnant. On the other hand, I could get someone pregnant! One thing is certain---I'll still have to be wearing a condom while paying close attention to my partner's ovulation cycle.

(Photo Credit)

Can you blame him?

In the front page of today's Inquirer, there is a picture of Manny Pacquiao with his family. The last page of the section showed a seductive wet-bikini picture of the alleged "other" woman---Krista Ranillo. Suddenly, out of nowhere, she has become a household name.
I don't really find her pretty. But beside Jinkee Pacquiao, she is a goddess. Can I blame Manny for straying?
What boggles my mind is not so much how can he choose Krista over Jinkee, but more on how could he think he could get away with it. There is a reported video of him with Krista driving away together from the Jimmy Kimmel show. He has one of the most recognizable faces in the world. Did he think nobody will recognize him?
I really don't care about Jinkee. I also don't care about Krista. They can fade away from memory and the world will not be any worse. I also wouldn't care if Manny has countless affairs and his marraige turns south. What I care about is Manny the boxer. I hope this does not distract him.
P.S. I am writing this using Squarespace's iPhone app. It's useful if you want to fire out a quick post, but prologed typing may lead to headaches. And please forgive me for any misspellings. I never really got used to the virtual keyboard.