You’re not gonna get throat cancer from eating pussy and you’re not gonna get dick cancer from HPV. You’re not gonna get AIDS or syphilis or herpes. That thing on your dick is an inflamed hair follicle. Trust me; I know. I have made my body an experiment, fucking the entire internet unprotected on a first OKCupid date and then living through the paranoid terrors of a slightly itchy penis the next morning. It’s all bullshit and your doctor knows it as soon as you walk in the door. Heterosexual men are basically immune to STD’s. You couldn’t get one if you tried.
You aren’t gonna get lung cancer from smoking, you aren’t gonna have a heart attack from coke. Just like you won’t die in a plane crash. Your death won’t be from some shit you hear about on the news. No, instead your heart will give out in your 70’s after a long slow decline and they will cut you open and spread your ribs and put a bunch of plastic and clockwork in there to buy you a few more years of slouching in front of ESPN. You will get some kind of cancer in old age, and they’ll catch it before it spreads because old people are constantly being looked at by doctors. You will go through chemo and surgery and feel sick all the time and they’ll drain out whatever’s left of you. But it won’t be because of anything you did. It’ll be genetics. You’re doomed; you’re doomed in whatever particular way was decided long before you were born, and nothing you do is gonna speed it up or slow it down. Except exercise maybe. Or if you go completely nuts, drink a fifth a day and smoke a pack a day and blow five grams of coke on the weekend– maybe that will fuck you up.
But that’s in your genes too– whether you have to do self destructive shit just to feel normal for five minutes. Some of us are set at a constant three on a scale of ten and need a little nudge to bring us up to normal. And your body then fights to bring you back to your baseline, and it’s an ever escalating war to just maintain a survivable mood. It’s a fight not to be miserable every god damn second. If you are one of these people, you will blast yourself full of some drug or another every day of your life and there’s not a god damn thing you can do about it. And there’s a lot of us. A lot of us were born because one of the things that makes life tolerable for a minute is fucking.
So relax. You are doomed. And there is nothing, not one god damn thing, that you can do about it. Go ahead and have a drink and fire up a Camel and tear off a piece of ass.