Manhattan Offender

Talk dirty to me

Coming in from a bright Sunday into the dark Bijou sex club, my eyes take a long time adjusting.  My mind is on finding an appropriate space to talk to people attending this event, the beginning of a Sunday salon series hosted by Daniel Nardicio.  This week is a screening of Caligula, one of the best worst movies of all time.

Still blind, I have no idea who has suddenly grabbed me while I'm still scouting out locations to interview people for Gawker.  Tons of spots are found for B-roll.  The bar where Dimitri Santiago is posing for a life drawing 'class'.  The booths of course.  The crowd watching the movie.  Turns out my grabber is Daniel himself who is amazed that I have jumped a foot in the air post-grab.

He introduces me to a few folks.  A "pass-around party bottom".  Sean Van Zant from rentboy.com.  The Tangle, who had filmed Daniel's pilot.  Others.  Then I settle near the pool table, waiting for my video guy to arrive. 

Suddenly, I switch into "obnoxious guy in sex club with iPhone" mode, having to answer texts and emails relative to the event.  Over ten times, I step into a hallway to give instructions or clarify time.

Returning to my 'safe place' by the pool table, the scene where Caligula is testing the virginity of an engaged couple is on the screen.  I've been joined by this guy Jono that has no idea that he's completely my type (see pic above or video).  To the point that it makes me nervous.  (Or maybe it's Caligula prepping to fist some poor guy.  Or maybe the fact that the fistee isn't arching his back.)  Jono's even dressed in what I have decided for myself to be perfect attire for the evening, a zip-up hoodie with no shirt beneath. 

When videographer Alex arrives, we tour around.  He shoots some good B-roll.  I then grab Daniel to have a chat in a better-lit space.  A locker area is lit in a way that, both being 40, we reject.  Eventually, I convince Daniel to sit on the bathroom floor with a trash can behind us and a plunger in between his legs.  And as we begin to have a discussion about what is dirty in New York these days, passersby chime in and magic happens.

We have this great little conversation with people joining us on the floor.  In the bathroom.  Of a sex club.  And it's all on video.

Delicious ambiguity.

The diagnosis has come in and it is certain.  "Mr. Townsend, I'm afraid to tell you, you are mortal."  It is suddenly apparent that there is no chance of my making it to see the 22nd century.  I'm dying.  But in the sense that you are too.

Here's the deal.  Since the beginning of March, I've had a 'mystery ailment' composed mostly of recurrent staph infections around the armpit, general fatigue, and a huge quantity of ANA antibodies coursing through the blood.  Over fifteen vials of blood have been filled.  An echo-cardiogram, abdominal sonagram, and chest x-rays have been executed.  Over $200 laid out in doctor visit and pharmaceutical co-pays spent.   My shirt removed over twenty times for five different people, none of whom were alluring.

For the most part this has been kept close to the vest.  There is no conversation starter lower than "How are you feeling?" and such morbid conversation is loathsome.  There has been the necessary revelations to friends whose birthday parties have been missed and others.  Sometimes the information was spread without my knowledge leading to hugs from people previously unmolested.  Sometimes the word came blurted out in response to a tangential comment.

So what is it?  Still unknown, but the following are things that have been tested and that it is not:

• AIDS
• Syphilis
• Anemia
• MRSA (which was pursued for a week)
• Lupus (which was pursued for about a month)
• Lung cancer
• Gall bladder dysfunction
• Spleen ailment
• Kidney problem
• Obesity (WTF!)

From all the work done it is know known that I have incredibly perfect blood pressure, cholesterol, white blood cell counts, spleen function, gall bladder function.  Despite years of smoking (which ceased in January, back when I was healthy), there is no indication of lung cancer or any other type of cancer.  Despite diabetes on both sides of my family, there is no indication thereof.  Or heart disease.  Or any of the other stuff that kills the men on my father's side at the age of sixty.

Which leaves mostly with a massive case of annoyance.  Which, through some miracle of programmatic thinking leads me to gratitude as things could be so much worse.  I have insurance.  My doctor, albeit a tad clueless, is genuinely concerned.  The people in my life are pretty awesome.  Death isn't at my door (today).  My life is filled with a newly delicious ambiguity.

Although slightly changed by this experience, it is unlike the slight change that anything endured for two months.  Current conditions are as follows:

• The new site launched. 
• I'm still with Gawker. 
• There may be an MSM thing in the works. 
• I'll be on a stage sometime in June.

And there's more, but this post is too long already.  And I'll talk more about the cat (still unnamed) once she gets better at posing for the camera.

Footnote the first:  The above post title is from the under-appreciated Gilda Radner. 
Footnote the second:  Sincere thanks to those who wrote inquiring about my taking a break from MO.  Your concern humbles me.

Gonorrhea Awareness Week: Gonorrhea, here we go again ...

In a continuing effort to draw your attention to the new antibiotic resistant gonorrhea discovered last week, a musical tribute, to an ABBA tune (if for some reason you cannot place which one or can't place the lyrics, the original video is after the jump):

I've been sleeping around since I don't know when
Something I have caught, it must come to an end
Look at my cock, will I ever learn?
I don't know how, but I suddenly lose control
There's a fire in my pee-hole
Just one look and I see the swelling
One more look and it hurts while peeing, o-o-o-oh

Gonorrhea, here we go again.
My my, meds cannot affect you.
Gonorrhea, does it show again?
My my, caught it but just from who?

Yes, I've been sleepin' around
Blue balls hurt so profound
Why, why didn't I to the doctor go?
Gonorrhea, now I really know,
My my, you will never let me go.

I'm not ashamed about the things that I do
I can't count all the bedroom doors I've been through
And when I'm out, I swear I'm not a whore
I think I know that I cannot resist a schlong
You know that I'm not that strong.
Just one look and I see the swelling
One more look and it hurts while peeing, o-o-o-oh

Gonorrhea, here I go again.
My my, meds cannot affect you.
Gonorrhea, does it show again?
My my, caught it but just from who?

Yes, I've playing safely.
Oral sex with a condom's silly.
Why, why did I ever let it go?

Gonorrhea, even if I say
Bye bye, leave me now or never
Gonorrhea, it's just roulette we play
Bye bye doesn't mean forever

Gonorrhea, here I go again.
My my, meds cannot affect you.
Gonorrhea, does it show again?
My my, caught it but just from who?
Yes, I've been sleepin' around
Blue balls hurt so profound
Why, why didn't I to the doctor go?
Gonorrhea, now I really know,
My my, you will never let me go.

Gonorrhea Awareness Week: Gonorrhe-ha-ha

 

If a friend or (briefly) loved one has contracted gonorrhea, after you've explained that you're not the one from which they contracted the disease, a gift is a great idea.  Or if you're the recently infected, why not treat yourself to something special.

• A cuddly gonorrhea plushie is a great to cuddle with through the night, giving the infected something to cuddle with that isn't cross-infecting them with a different strain of the disease.
• Get your very own humorous (not to be confused with funny) gonorrhea cocktail napkins!
• When left untreated, gonorrhea can lead to gonococcal arthritis which can be rather debilitating.  Make life easier for your infected friend with the appropriately named Clapper!
• To help the infected keep their infection in-house, condoms are the rule.  So why not design a custom condom with the word, phrase, or picture of your choice.  (Some of their recent clients include HBO's Entourage and Jon Bon Jovi.)

Happy Gonorrhea Awareness Week!

Introduced just last week is a new form of gonorrhea, resistant to most antibiotics, there is good reason to learn more about our friend, neisseria gonorrhoeae. 

As generations of humans continue to live and die, they are no longer evolving.  Instead we choose to let scientists handle such problems for us.  Scientists, in turn, have realized that curing disease is much less profitable than managing disease, thus recreating the human race as these long-living, disease-spreading breeding grounds for a multitude of creatures, among them bacteria.  Bacteria, with shorter life-spans and no scientists to "manage" their problems, have done that which humans have forgotten to do - evolve.

Already there are more gonorrhea bacteria on Earth than humans, and with their latest evolution their numerical dominance will continue to grow.  So by learning more about gonorrhea, we are really just learning more about our future bacterial overlords. 

As everything in the world seems to have its own week (Happy Bright Garantisadong Pambata Week, by the way), it is time that something so popular and common have it's time in the spotlight as well.  So, as no one else has done so, let me be the first to proclaim:

HAPPY GONORRHEA AWARENESS WEEK!

For the rest of the week, expect to learn much more.  Promised are gonorrhea anecdotes, knowledge, gift ideas, songs and so much more!  Lucky reader!

(Just for the record, I'm not serving as a host to "Big G", so don't even start!)

Staphinfectedfagilisticexpialidocious

Whom did I diddle did I diddle that guy?
Whom did I diddle did I diddle that guy?
Staphinfectedfagilisticexpialidocious!
Just like the sound of it,
It's something quite atrocious,
If you say it publicly,
You'll face upturned noses,
Staphinfectedfagilisticexpialidocious!

Whom did I diddle did I diddle that guy?
Whom did I diddle did I diddle that guy?

Because I sort of get around,
When I'm being a cad,
Somewhere bacteria I found,
And it turned out really bad,
But then my doc figured it all out,
And saved me abcessed nose,
The grossest diagnosis I ever had,
And this is how it goes:

Ooooooooh, staphinfectedfagilisticexpialidocious!
Forced my taking massive meds of inhumanly large doses,
I thought my local pharmacist,
Would think I was the grossest,
I'm staphinfectedfagilisticexpialidocious!

Whom did I diddle did I diddle that guy?
Whom did I diddle did I diddle that guy?

So if you get gigantic sores,
There's no need for dismay
Just summon up penicillin
For a week and three more day,
But better take all of your meds
Or staph may take your life,
It's turned me hypochondriac
So I'm buying Handy-wipes!

Cuz ...
I ...
Was ...
Staph-
infected-
fag-
ilistic-
expial-
idocious!
Staphinfectedfagilisticexpialidocious!
Staphinfectedfagilisticexpialidocious!
Staphinfectedfagilisticexpialidocious!

(All better now, and for those informed ones out there, it wasn't MRSA, thank science.  After a two week illness, I'm ready for a fun, bacteria-free weekend.)