I'm 44, in case anyone didn't know yet, so most of my stories are basically about old-man issues.

Sorry.

TODAY: THE PROSTATE

So, while flying home from São Paulo after a week of filming, I held it for way too long. Twice.

You know. Didn't go pe*.

I drank everything left in the rented flat so I wouldn't have to throw it away, left the apartment, spent about 40 minutes getting to the airport, somehow decided I also needed coffee, then got distracted writing a huge Instagram post in a café (it came out great, by the way; go look at it), then figured I'd better clear security first.

By the time I finally reached a restroom, I spent what felt like three minutes producing a very thin stream. The prostate was not cooperating.

Then the flight got delayed by about 40 minutes, and they kept us trapped in a bus the whole time. During the flight I had my favorite gummy candies from that airline and some cashew juice.

The outer part of the cashew nut is actually a juicy fruit, and they make juice from it. Did you know that? I didn't, before moving to Brazil.

Anyway, the whole performance repeated itself after landing.

Normally everything is fine. No issues when I'm not sitting for hours and filling myself with random beverages.

But ignoring warning signs is a bad habit.

So I thought: right, it's time to drill my hole.

Picked a quiet moment, cleaned up, grabbed a glass rod (basically a tiny glass dildo), and started applying pressure to the prostate.

And... it was more painful than pleasurable.

Some fluid came out, though. Clear, clean, textbook-perfect.

If anything had looked suspicious or the pain had been unbearable, that would've meant a doctor's appointment. I could still go, of course, but on this subject I'm a fairly traditional Russian conservative male: thunder has to strike before the peasant crosses himself.

So I'm sitting there thinking:

How is this possible?

Back in May I'd already arranged to shoot flip-flop videos with three large, muscular verses who were all generously endowed.

Not all at once. One at a time.

I'd spent more than a month training my anatomy for the occasion. Silicone dildo suction-cupped to the shower glass, and go ahead. At some point I wasn't just tolerating it anymore, I was actually enjoying it.

Surely the prostate got some attention during all that?

Apparently not.

I checked.

Tried again with that dildo and realized I wasn't getting any signals from dedicated area whatsoever.

Switched back to the glass rod. This time it wasn't nearly as painful. Almost pleasantly painful, if that makes sense. Still intense, though.

Finished the massage.

And then, I climaxed afterward.

By the way, all three of those guys bailed. Absolute prsttutes.

Literally, esc*rt guys.

They're very attractive of course, and someone booked them. One got flown to London, another to the United States to watch football live, and so on.

CONCLUSION

The preventive benefits of anal sex for prostate health have been wildly oversold.

It doesn't seem to do much of anything.

So now I'll be adding prostate massage to my routine.

Ideally it would look like the version in that video.

Realistically, it'll be me and the glass rod 😔