Hello, new space, blank face, pretty base.
This is where I plan to chronicle tactless musings about life being HSV-positive. There are too many whiny blogs around talking about what a sour trip it's been after being diagnosed. And I think I've done my share of wailing about how my vagina is officially ruined (it isn't. It looks perfectly fine. Fresh actually, since I indulged in a wax recently). It's time for a quick, forward march, comrades!
Here's to giving ol' HSV the well-lubed, latex-protected finger and reminding everyone who is pozzo* that it's not the end of your life just because someone stuck their herpes-infected dick into your nasty hole. Sure, it might hurt to pee sometimes (sorry, symptomatics :c), but I'd rather have acid shooting out of my vag for a mere few days than have a permanent life of self-pity and absolutely recluse. I like people too much for that.
Cheers x
Note: If you know a good herpes pun, do share. This post's title is an amazing contribution from a beautiful, dry-witted, wholly-inappropriate friend J. He would like me to add that he's HSV negative. Sure, J, FOR NOW.
*pozzo is my super un-cool way of saying "Positive". I'M TRYING TO MAKE FETCH HAPPEN, Y'ALL.
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