As much as I would like to believe that the sexual danger, posed to young Canadian girls, has diminished by a few, mediocre inches, I do not think, for one moment, that Yaniv has undergone the fairytale transition from morbidly obese bullfrog, to healthy-at-any-size Disney princess.
For one thing, I find it hard to give credence to the possibility that he would pass even the most offhand psychological screening. Like a child begging their parents for a puppy, Yaniv might claim that he will take care of his pseudo vagina, and wash it everyday. However, if past behaviour is any indicator, whatever he ends up with down there is going to resemble one of the rivers in London that were once used as open sewers and repositories for dead dogs.
Even the worst kind of butcher surgeon, who gives absolutely no fucks, would surely cast a wary eye at Yaniv's litany of litigation and consider the likelihood that he will end up on the wrong end of a lawsuit.
On a personal note, I still have trouble believing that Yaniv is genuinely trans. He combines the aggression of an elephant in musth with the sexual naivety of someone who learned everything they know about sex from reading Enid Blyton books. I believe that he still wants to stick his penis into an unwilling victim, though maybe he is insane and desperate enough to think that the only thing holding him back sexually is the absence of a vagina. I strongly maintain that his best hope of hooking up with someone even remotely human, would be to give Russell Greer a bell.
Until I stare into the unfathomable, Lovecraftian horror that is Yaniv's vagina (full frontal; none of this penis tucked between the legs nonsense) I am going to call this latest flight to the clinic a consultation; a prelude to more guileless maneuvering, where he can claim female status, as he is slowly inserted, like a human tampon, into the Canadian penal system.