Summoning muscles that are very poor at restraining fluids, I attempt the impossible, using my underwear to prevent dribbling. It's difficult. Damage is minimal--thank fuck. I end up working my way from the urinal to the light-switch feeling only a little warmer. But, Christ, this could have been bad. That guy should really pay better attention to other people in the bathroom. He doesn't have to be so afraid. People get hurt in a world of fear.
The biggest thing is hydro as a natural resource. Is it more or less important than us pissing all over ourselves like animals. I hate the mall, and the public washroom. Now that I have a child, the washroom is the only place for peace and tranquillity. I'm thinking of getting fish and a Zen garden for beside the shitter. The public washroom is like a bastardization of what is supposed to be a peaceful place. It's like removing a classic stereo from a vintage mopar car and adding a retarded disco lighting led mp3 rig, so that you can listen to endless pitbull tracks like a peice of shit vagabond. It's what I believe to be hell on earth, and it's how I know there is no God on the throne of heaven.
ReplyDeleteI seek out private bathroom stalls whenever possible.
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