Tis better to be lucky than good
It was a crazy fall day in 2024, I was invited to go into a house in the far reaches of downtown la adjacent whose owner had just dirted (died). I was commissioned to be in the house while the locks were being changed because the now deceased male owner had a predilection for sex with male meth addicts who flopped in the house. The family decided that this paraphernalia was not for them and the house would be shut pending legal proceedings.
The house, is as they say, occupied by a hoarder who was not good at it. There was literal shit all over. Busted hammers, dead baby's toys, expired tapioca pudding. You name it. I wandered around and in the makeshift medicine cabinet (a milk crate by the shitter), there was a haul.
Ambien. In the family size.
Ativan. In the costco size.
Metformin. I guess this fucker was diabetic.
Powder in unmarked baggies. I am assuming this was not powdered sugar.
And then, three paired bottles of something called cefixime and azithromycin. I was familiar with the latter, I think it is an antibiotic. As to the former, I looked it up and it is apparently the new way to treat chlamydia and gono. Back in the day when I knew people that got the buring pee pain and the art show discharge from the penor, the treatment was a shot in the ass and like two weeks of antibiotics. Well, I guess the NIH, after blowing the aids and covid pandemic, at least figured out a way to treat mild STDs.
I let the family know that I was going to toss the drugs. I had no interest in the group, save the STD treatment. I have no trouble sleeping. Just watch any pakman YouTube video, and you are done.
But I kept the meds for the clap.
Anyhoo, I guess I went a little bendy pendy over new years and later, and Monday morning just before our favorite orange man was inaugurated, it hurt to pee. I was shocked as peeing is one of my main activities due to drinking like 8 cups of water a day. Later in the day, the same thing happened. Again, I was weirded out, but did not care.
I get home from the daily errands on the holiday and the front of my undie pants looks like a fucken modern art masterpiece. I look down and my penor hole and it looks like a manhole after a flood.
I added two plus two, remembered driving my roommate to some gay 24 hour clinic in san fran because he got the clap and realized quite quickly that I was afflicted.
It was like 8 pm. I was exhausted and went to bed. Got up. Saw more lovely discharge on my silk gucci jammies.
I went online the next am and figured I could go to some clinic or who knows what. Well moses smell the roses you have to pee in a cup to get tested, you have to wait in some fucken room for the test and get meds the next day? I figure I could order online. I tried my best and the one site that seemed to work was not responding and then said that they did not have a California nurse online to make the script. Panic set in and I was like what the fuck. And then when I saw the medicine being offered. Cefixime, I drove so fast to my storage facility (all of. 6 miles away, but with my pain threshold right at a baby with a dingleberry screaming for 7 hours), I drove there. I found the cefixime and it was still good. I got water from my kia, and downed the cefixime and az immediately. The cure was evident in 24 hours. Tuesday was painful but when I woke up Wednesday, it burned for just about as long as it takes for emo at 8155 to call time and I have been progressing and peeing with great ease.
According to the nih, I am supposed to wait seven days until I get back in the game. I am not sure what I will do about getting back in the game, or if I should get tested, but every monger here should keep at least two doses of the cefixime / az mix on hand at all times. It turns out that you can do it online. The one website said they now had a California licensed person, but I have two sets left.