peeing. its one thing we all do yet men seem to have all the fun with it.
and there are so many topics involved.
every guy knows all the tricks about hiding “dribbles”:
when washing your hands make sure you flick a little water over the area and surrounds. then don’t wipe your wet hands on a towel, use your pants and make sure you leave a visible handprint so that people can see that you didn’t pee on yourself but that you used your pants as a towel. a truly manly thing to do!
men don’t pee on themselves or use towels!
and then there’s urinal fun:
every guy knows the 2 supreme pleasures of the urinal.
1) “the shivers.” you know what i’m talking about. you’re standing at the urinal doing your business when that little godess of hidden pleasures runs gracefully up your spine resulting in a euphoric quiver often accompanied by half-shut eyelids and sighing.
2) ice! for some reason they put ice cubes in urinals. they probably claim something about cleanliness or some such gumph. the reality is this:
it is fun to melt ice cubes with pee :) really it is.
but with the pleasure comes the danger:
often the ice cubes are cup shaped (probably easier to manufacture in large quantities) and a careless or amatuer ice-pee’er will often hit the cup at the wrong angle and score an “own goal” if you get my drift…
then they’ve got to use their pants as a towel.
ah yes… urinals.
every man knows the unspoken code.
its kind of like a gentleman’s club. i may be hunted down and killed for revealing the secrets of the mens’ room, but it must be done (don’t ask why).
- a man shalt never make eye contact with another man while urinal use is in progress.
- a man shalt never make, erm, eye contact with another man’s, erm, soldier while urinal use is in progress.
- unless the men are good friend a man shalt not distrurb the tranquility of another man by talking to him while urinal use is in progress (exceptions: the annoying guy at work and drunks).
- a man shalt respect another man’s privacy and always use the urinal that is furthest from all other men (while urinal use is in progress).
- a man shalt never be caught unawares and thus must he always choose a urinal farthest from the door unless this infringes on the privacy of another man (detailed in previous rule) while urinal use is in progress.
- a man shalt not show weakness and shalt flush only about 1 in 10 times when using a urinal (exceptions: the boss is in the room [probably talking to you while you pee and while he’s using his pants as a towel] or a member of cleaning staff is watching you pee).
these are the rules we are born with. these are the rules we live and die by.
its probably why transsexuals aren’t fully accepted by society. some keep trying to adhere to the urinal rules when there are no more urinals in their life, others were never born with the rules and are now thrust into a complex society of porcelain and urine.
and since chittychittybangbang told us his story, i guess it only fair to reciprocate and tell my very own “gotta go” story. it is not as funny as his. my tale is a real life and death struggle. it was back in the days when men were men and peeing was important.
there i was. a new recruit… (to the local wargaming club at the local library.)
a fresh young soldier ready to take life by the balls… (and play a few games of warhammer 40k.)
i was young and foolish and reckless back then. i believed i was imortal… (i didn’t go to the bathroom before leaving the house.)
it was common amongst us to drink like real men… (we were throwing back the cokes.)
late one afternoon it was just me and the sarge left, all the others were no more… (because we were the only ones to pitch up to play that day.)
we were seriously short of equipment… (schpat had given us the keys to get in but forgot to give us the bathroom keys.)
and then it happened. i had my calling and knew my duties… (my bladder was full and i really had to go.)
but the usual route was insurmountable and i had to find an alternate… (the bathroom was locked and the only other room we could get into was a kitchen.)
there i was, stranded and alone, looking death in the eyes knowing that the enemy could be watching me from anywhere… (standing in the kitchen i realised i could just use the sink, except for the large window that opened out over a public road.)
i needed some form of transport… (i needed some way to get the pee from me to the sink without “direct access”.)
and then i laid my eyes upon it. like mana from heaven the answer stood there glistening in the afternoon sun… (i found some empty coffee jars.)
taking my life in my hands i did what i had to do, no matter how i felt… (i peed into the jars, awkward having to hold the item you’re peeing into.)
i was running out of resources and needed to reload which seemed to drag out into infinity… (i filled a jar and had to “interrupt the flow” to switch to another jar.)
finally i could deliver the goods… (i dumped the pee down the drain.)
and then i melted back into the shadows as if i’d never been there… (i rinsed out the jars and sink and put everything back where i found it.)
with the mission complete i returned to base camp… (to finish the game.)
and vowed never to be caught so unawares again… (making sure the bathroom keys were always available.)
ah yes… i love the smell of pee in the morning (or something).
and on another topic entirely:
n-philes reports that another castlevania game for the nintendo ds is on its way. konami has released a list of up-and-coming and castlevania: portrait of ruin is on the list. if its anything like the last one it’ll be a keeper!
and for those interested in abandonwares: the abandonware blog.
quoted purpose of the site:
“I have hundred of ideas right now but the main thing I’ll be trying to do is write reviews and post abandonware-scene-related articles.“if my posts continue in this vein i’m going to lose all my readers… well, all the girly ones anyway.
remember: you’re not a man if you pee on yourself, use a towel, or if you don’t read this blog… and women: read this blog to ensure you know what your man is really doing in the bathroom when he walks out looking like he’s been wrestling an octopuss in the bathtub.