We know that human papilllomavirus (HPV) is bad for us ladies, as it can lead to cervical cancer. And given the statistic that an estimated 80% of us will have HPV by the time we're 50, it's a good thing that the HPV vaccine Gardasil is now available for those of us who meet its age requirements (9 - 26). But what about the boys? Did you know that certain strains of HPV cause anal cancer? It's rare (1% of sexually-active men are diagnosed yearly), but rates are 35 times higher in gay and bisexual men. It turns out that resident Jezegay Ryan Creed—the Ann Coulter fan and Vulva fragrance pusher—is a guinea pig in a study right now testing Gardasil on men. Luckily for us, he lived to tell us all about it.

After my turn-and-cough physical in January, my doctor asked me if I wanted to join an unspecified clinical study. I agreed because I was studying to be a nurse and wanted to do my part for the medical field. I also was convinced that the study was for depression medication. He started to ask me revealing questions about my sex life, which should have indicated to me what the study was about—yes I am gay, yes I have had less than six sexual partners, and yes I not happy about that—but I still assumed it was for depression medication.

"Do you ever have warts?"

"Well, lately I've been getting these warts on my thumbs and they keep disap....wait a second...you're talking about genital warts, aren't you?"

He shook his head and told me that the study was for a trial run of Gardasil, Merck's vaccine. It has already been approved by the F.D.A for use in women, but the company is now studying it's efficacy in men and in particular gay men. The study is comprised of 4,000 men between the ages of 16 and 26, 500 of whom are sexually active with men (My doctor said it was difficult to find gay men for the study who have had no more than five sexual partners, indirectly confirming that gay men are complete sluts). The vaccine is being used to both prevent transmission between partners and to lower the risk of anal cancer caused by certain strains of HPV.

I set up an appointment for the vaccine the following week at the gay health center, which gave me few days to mentally prepare myself to be anally pap-ed and/or fingered by my doctor. Yes, I know doctors regularly stick things all up in you ladies, but I've never had a doctor do anything more to "my area" than the routine testicular exam and I was a little nervous about the impending fingering. My doctor was going to finger me, probably with a lot of lube, and I just needed to accept that reality.

It's a blind test study with half the men receiving a placebo and the other half receiving Gardasil. There are about 40 strains of HPV. Gardasil protects against types 6, 11, 16, and 18. HPV Types 16 and 18 cause most cervical and anal cancer cases, and HPV Types 6 and 11 cause 90% of genital warts cases. What they don't normally tell you is that infection occurs through skin-to-skin contact and warts don't need to be present for transmission between partners. To get skin samples, my doctor pulled out what looked like a metal nail file, and he rubbed it across my hand to show me that it would be "painless." Sure, it didn't hurt per se, but I would have taken pain over the stinging tickle of three metal nail files scrapped across my Jezepenis's head, shaft and the sensitive area between the two.

Then came the fingering and swabbing. My doctor took an extra long swab, inserted it much further in me than I thought necessary, and made the motion of rolling up a car window really fast. He did that one or two more times and then he asked me to put my pants back on and get my shot. I went back to the waiting room, scheduled my next injection appointment—I was to receive 2 more additional shots and then follow-up appointments for the next 3 years—and was paid $75 in cash. That's right, cash, just like your run of the mill, back alley tranny-hooker.

After the vaccination I felt dirty, exploited, and lube-y. But the silver lining to the study wasn't the money or possibly receiving an effective vaccine, it was finding out that I am one of the few gay men not infected with the high-risk strains of HPV. One study found that over 65% of HIV-negative gay men have HPV, and being in the minority made me feel special. And as luck would have it, I had a date shortly after my dick-scrapping-anal-swabbing session with someone who was also in the Gardasil trial and who had his dick scrapped. OMG, we had so much in common. And I know this will be hard to believe, but as far as hook-up dirty talk goes, "We totally don't have HPV" is pretty hot.

If we took away women's right to vote, we'd never have to worry about another Democrat president. It's kind of a pipe dream, it's a personal fantasy of mine, but I don't think it's going to happen.

This weekend I attended a small, intimate house party in Manhattan of mostly gay men in the media. I was sitting in the kitchen talking about Men's Vogue and Lisa Kudrow's The Comeback with my friend Mark when in walks: ANN COULTER. It was shocking to see America's deplorable scion of extreme right-wing fanaticism pour herself a glass of wine in a casual white tank top and jeans (no black cocktail dress) and effusively greet the liberal media that she's made a career crusading.
The gays squealed with delight. They all shelved their political beliefs and giggled to one another about the famous guest, cooing over how skinny she is and hovering around her waiting for an introduction. The "female Rush Limbaugh" was received with the fanfare normally reserved for Liza, Beyonce, and Tammy Faye (RIP). When she walked in the room, Mark turned from a typical limousine liberal to a giddy NRA fanboy.
I had to meet her. Of course I don't agree with her political agenda, but seriously, who does? Is it an agenda? She walked by me and I tapped her on the shoulder. "Hi Ann, I just wanted to say that I think you're HILARIOUS." "So I guess you don't write for the Treason Times?" she laughed, clearly ripping on the handful of New York Times critics in the room, who are apparently also her friends.
The first thing to notice about Ann is her laugh. She has an engaging energy, and she ingratiates herself quickly in a conversation with an inviting, disarming, and continuous laugh. It is genuine, unlike that of certain socialists I can think of. Beyond the crack at the Times, she showed remarkable discretion and didn't mention politics once throughout the evening. The closest we came to an argument was over our opinions on outdoor cafes. Ann likes outdoor cafes because they remind her of the days when she used to be able to smoke a cigarette with meals, and I hate them because they remind me those days too and, like, WTF is going on in a town where you can't smoke a cigarette outside anymore? She agreed to me that the law was unjust, and we found common political ground! [Ed: The difference is, you know, she quit smoking when that law was passed, which I guess was the whole point of the law in the first place! Ironic how it WORKED on a libertarian crazy Ann Coulter and utterly failed on a heathenous assfucking queer like you, right? I would say that's just the Greater Absurdity of the Universe that would make the gays love Ann Coulter — and also, I might add, Homodinejad — but actually, I know for a fact that you live in Philadelphia, where you're still allowed to smoke outside while sitting on a table, and if you didn't, you'd probably smoke less. So yeah, nanny states = effective! Just saying!]
The next morning I was still on a Coulter high. I saw my roommate in the kitchen and the first thing I said was, "I met Ann Coulter and I want to be her best friend." It was only after seeing her face turn from bewilderment to shock to horror that I realized what I actually said.
It is well-documented that Ann Coulter hyperbolizes arguments to make a point (or get attention), and it is equally known that she has faghag tendencies. But it is still difficult to imagine respecting, admiring,or befriending a woman who says this, this, this, this, and well, I really could go on forever.
However! Now that I look at her writings after having met her, they don't seem as hateful and ignorant as before. They're funny, and can almost be read as agitprop performance art. [Ed: I would label this is a "pipe dream."] For the first time I watched the YouTube clip of her calling calling John Edwards a faggot at the Conservative Political Action Conference. Not only did she not technically call him a faggot, she made a pithy observation on the absurdity of Hollywood and celebrity using his country dandiness. And also, she has a point John Edwards is kind of faggy. Takes one to know!
Only her closest confidantes know her true motives and beliefs. People at the party said that she's a fiercely loyal friend - and I don't doubt that - but where does one draw the line on holding a seemingly good person accountable for their hateful persona? Liberals are quick to attack showman styles of right-wing debate, particularly grandiose religiosity, but at the same time revere uncomplicated liberal publicity hounds from Malcolm McLaren to Michael Moore. [Ed: Because they are RIGHT.]
Even the most pragmatic thinkers who acknowledge Coulter using her persona as a device to shake things up worry about the implications and ramifications of her dialogue. Using her opinions on gay marriage, I honestly don't think Ann Coulter influences any thinking person to hate gays or gay marriage. At worst, her writings reflect bigotry and homophobia in an audience that doesn't think critically or understand nuance. If Ann Coulter didn't exist, a different ideologue would no doubt take her place, and I don't think any of them would be more beneficial to gay rights. And after having such a lovely evening with Ann, I would rather these people worship a hilarious woman who loves gay men, cocktails, and knowingly pushes the envelope rather than either dogmatic religious zealots who think gay sex and drinking will send me to hell or left-wing comediennes who no longer make me laugh.

Coulter Culture [NY Observer]