Inviting HIV

I rarely go somewhere far for vacations basically due to lack of funds, and my goal is to be walking-on-water-solitary-trip-to-Batanes level, but for this leave, which will end in a couple of days, I went to Baguio because the sun is making me crazy as hell (Or more like the clouds, they’re the ones making me crazy. Because the sun will always be like that, but where the fuck are the clouds?!) So to spite me Emong decided to hitch a ride so we were trapped in the mountains with the rains and all. Upon coming back to Manila I decided to finally check an item in my checklist of things to do which has been sitting there unticked since ten years ago, which is to get a piercing. “Will there be blood?” I told silver jewelry girl as she wielded her gun. “A little,” she said, bathing the generic needle in alcohol. “Then throw the gun away and just manually pierce me with this new fake diamond stud earring instead, if I’m to have HIV I’d rather that I had fun contracting it!!!” I growled, or something to that effect with less melodrama.

I wanted to have both ears pierced for more katangahan look, but my right ear usually develops disgusting nodules that come and go. Med-Once people, is there such a thing as chondrosarcoma or something of the right lobe? Can I have these nodules biopsied or scanned with diffusion weighted imaging? I am deathly afraid of cancer, I suspect cancer in everything. I don’t give a crap about predictive values and sensitivity and specificity of diagnostic tests and crap when it comes to cancer, because everything can be cancer, and my index of suspicion is to the level of seeing images and hearing voices that aren’t there. If I have my way I’ll have everything scanned every 3 months. “First time mo?” silver jewelry girl asked, and I wanted to say “I was already born with a hole, except that it’s probably a sinus tract, which is totally disgusting!” except that I would probably have to explain everything first.

In a matter of 10 hours or so I decided I wanted to remove cheap fake diamond stud, and as soon as I unplucked it the piercing closed down in a swoop, like a Wolverine healing factor special effect. I informed Mrs. Therese of this, to which she said, “Poke it back!!!! And you have to twirl a sinulid in it every day!!!!” And from Namtab Pots on this entire pointless exercise, “You’re like Aquaman. From boyish looks to grunge!!!”

Aquaman. Come to think of it, Aquaman has come a long, long way. He used to have the all-American look—blonde, orange scaly shirt, huge muscles. Then he decided to wear that blue wavy bestida. Then he grew a beard, fashioned a long hair, stripped off his shirt to reveal enormous muscles, and inserted a hook in place of his left hand after it was munched by piranhas. Then he decided to go back to the orange chainmail shirt, shave, and cut his hair. And his left hand hook became a cool-looking yet undefined water hand with mystical powers. And in a few years he became an ermitanyo with squid face. I heard he then died in some story I haven’t read yet. This, of course, will lead to his return in June, because the dead will rise in… The Blackest Night!!!

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