A date at the STD clinic

So I went and did it, being the responsible gay adult that I am. I went and got tested. I had been thinking about doing it for a while now, but never seemed to get around to it, especially with current news like this making headlines. There is always that niggling doubt at the back of your mind – “What if”. The fact that I’m actually in a happy relationship helped give me the push. The two of us went about two weeks ago. Oh, the romance! A date at the STD clinic – holding hands during the syringing, swabbing, scraping and sampling, who could ask for anything more, I hear you say. I, for one.

It wasn’t as bad as expected. The staff at the clinic couldn’t have been nicer. The worst thing about it was the waiting time – we were there for almost 4 fucking hours before both of us were finished, and we ended up only getting our blood taken because of the huge post-christmas crowd, which is to be expected, I suppose. We went back two weeks later for the results and also for the swabbing part. I can see all of you crossing your legs right now. Well it isn’t that bad, really, apart from the weird sensation you get when she sticks that thing down you-know-where and makes a few little scratches and the uncomfortableness that lasts for an hour or so afterwards. I got the results of that there and then, and thank god ‘twas all clear.

I had been so nervous waiting for the blood-test results. At first I was worried that I might have something, but then I became even more worried about what if he had something – what would he do, but more importantly, what would I do – how would I react. It made me quickly realise how much he does actually mean to me (excuse the soppiness), the fact that at a time like that his well being was more important to me than my own. It is a nice thing to realise.

So I encourage all of you who are in a relationship and are maybe doubting it to take an improptu trip to the STD clinic. Maybe even bring some champagne and a lobster and make a night of it. Well, it would be original at least - Darling, would you care for more champagne to accompany your anal swabbing?

*Sniffle*

I just spent 18 fucking euro on a bloody antibiotic prescription! I've been trying to get rid of this cunting cough for the last week, so I told myself I better get it checked out. Surprise, surprise I was put on an antibiotic, the usual doctor fix. I'd say they spend about 85% of their time writing prescriptions for antibiotics, 10% writing sick notes and the remaining 5% counting their riches. Well I hope it makes you happy Dr., if that is your real name. Does your money make you feel better, does it hug you at night and tell you it loves you?
It does?
Well, fuck you.


And apparantly, for those of you interested in real estate, a big dick helps to sell houses.

Paris Photos

So much has happened since the last post, including Christmas, my fantastic appartment-warming party which everyone turned up at - hey hope you all had a good time. The last few hours or so are a bit fuzzy, but the reports I've gotten back tell me I didn't make too much of a fool of myself! Photos from that should be up soon enough, for those of you who know where to find them. There was also New Year's which I spent in Belfast, but unfortunately didn't go out. Twas alright - was nice to ring in the New Year with the boyf though - cause they always say you should always start the year how you want to finish it. Anyway, I've eventually gotten around to sorting out the multitude of photos on my camera, and here are one or two from the trip to Paris back in November. I will get back to regular posting pretty soon, well as soon as I've gotten rid of this fucking flu. At the moment it feels like someone is sitting on my chest, and not in a good way.

Eiffel Tower at night





Walkway in Pompidou Center





Cathedral de Notre-Dame





Clock at Museé d'Orsay





Champs Elysées from Arc de Triomphe