Catch My Phenomenon

You may have noticed that reading about obscure diseases is a hobby of mine. Maybe it's because I was raised in a medical household, but I find them fascinating.

You remember that kid I knew that was allergic to sunlight? How it had to be explained to the school that he was special because he couldn't go out in the sun without his skin reacting? I always felt sorry for that kid, he was a sweetie and would probably suffer a lot because of his condition. But then I remembered Twilight. With a bit of quick mental arithmetic I worked out that this year that little boy would be around 18 years old. I cannot fathom just how much sex he would be having. 

I did remember recently that I actually have a reasonably obscure medical condition myself. I never thought much of it because I was diagnosed with it so long ago and it wasn't until I saw it mentioned in a Cracked article that I realised it wasn't that common. 

I have a condition called Raynaud's Phenomenon. To be diagnosed with a 'phenomenon' is pretty cool to begin with. What happens is that as a response to extreme temperature changes (especially cold weather for me), my fingers go completely numb and start changing colour. For real. It's a circulation thing, apparently both my mother and grandmother have it as well. I discovered it when I went skiing with my family and found that if I didn't wear two pairs of gloves I sometimes couldn't hold my stocks properly. As you will read on that wikipedia page, the fingers first go white, then blue, then red when you warm them up. If I were American it would be the most patriotic medical condition ever. I would almost definitely be elected president, even without ever mentioning a single policy. They would ask me my stance on universal health care and I would be like 'Well, I could talk about that. Or I could show you my AMERICAN FLAG HANDS AGAIN!' 

But I was glancing over the wikipedia entry when I came across a phrase that I would assume were a hack if I didn't know it was true. Under the 'treatment' section:

"If triggered by exposure in a cold environment, and no warm water is available, place the affected digits in a warm body cavity - armpit, crotch or even in the mouth"

You can see how that would appear to be a crank, but that is actually the best way to fix it when you're out in the snow. Although the crotch is not usually the area I go for. But this didn't stop me from realising that hypothetically, if I presented to a reasonably cool doctor with this condition, I could get a prescription for fisting. I would frame that.

And I'm not a lesbian. But this knowledge has made me wish just ever so slightly that I was, on the basis that I would have the best pick-up line ever.

"Hey cutie, I don't know if you can help me out, but I have a legitimate medical need to place my fingers in a warm body cavity. I even have a prescription. Care to help me... fill it?"

Realistically, I would never have the guts to say that to anybody I hadn't known for a long time. But it's nice to have it in the arsenal*.

-Smackie Onassis

*No pun intended, you filth merchants.

Newcastle: Keepin' it Classy

I don't know if you saw the article, but apparently my hometown is now some kind of STI capital of Australia. Before commenting, I will be quick to say that this has happened since I left the town.

But I bet I know what has caused this sudden spike in infections. And I could track it down to a little place usually called 'Number Five Union Street'. Number Five was a strip club. I'm not sure if it was the only strip joint in Newcastle when I lived there, but to be honest I can't imagine why anyone in their right mind would go there if they'd had any other options. 

Number Five wasn't the actual name of the place. It didn't really have a name, just the letters XXX painted above the door. As a result, people started referring to it by its address. I never went there myself, but I have heard enough stories to know how seedy it was. When I was in high school it was something of a rite of passage for boys who had recently turned 18 to have their first stripping experience at Number Five. I've always thought that African tribes must feel pretty ripped off that their rites of passage consist of painstaking feats of strength, wrestling lions and all that, when their Western equivalents get to do shots off naked women and call themselves men. But in the case of this particular rite, I don't think the comparison to lion wrestling is that much of a stretch.

As I mentioned, Number Five is pretty much just a door in the side of a wall. Inside it doesn't get any better. A dimly lit room awaits you, with a circle of plastic lawn chairs. The women come out and from the stories I have heard, these are not the kind of strippers you want making any large degree of physical contact with you. Yellow teeth, needle tracks, stretch marks. Exactly what you'd expect from the surrounds. Apparently they're aggressive too. A guy I went to high school with told me about how one of them decided to give him a lapdance against his will. He ended up fending her off with one of the chairs. Like a lion tamer.

I do want to be clear that I have nothing against strip clubs in general. If that's what people want to do then I don't see a problem, provided people act responsibly. However, if you live in a town where reported incidences of gonorrhea have quadrupled in the past year, maybe these are the things you should be looking into.

-Smackie Onassis