And: “Strange religious urinals shaped like nuns. These unusual accessories in a church washroom are very different toilet fixtures for holy men urinating.”
As well as an ideal setting for Tracy and Sister Smackdown.
Would this encourage better aim? At “my” local bookstore, the floor below the urinal is as hideous as any gas station restroom. Are bookish men sloppier than non-bookish men?
Hoo boy. I was so fascinated by the base in the form of a panda-print collar or ruff that I didn’t even notice the teeth. Bet I would if I used urinals.
Kathy, surely you underestimate your aiming capabilities. I’m thinking maybe we could organize us a non-competitive girls-only pissing contest for clusterflockstock..
My capacity ain’t what it used to be. Was a time I could hold an entire six-pack of imported beer and spell out my favorite verses in narrow lines of pale hues. Thanks to the blessed event (Andrew’s birth), the best I’ve been able to muster is “dammit Andrew”, and that was years ago. His pre-school made me stop. He’s 17 now so I’m way out of practice. If I limit writing to short phrases, I could compete. I’m only 5′3″, so distance competition will have to be bracketed for fairness.
Well, if we do it at all, I envision a non-competitive girly competition, which probably works only when participants are good and drunk and liking one another. But that shouldn’t be hard to arrange.
. . . and blow me down. You’re a little squirt, too, eh? The things a person learns. See, I’d imagined CIndy as a pipsqueak (till I learned otherwise) and you as an Amazon. Couldn’t begin to tell you why.
Sign me up. I think we could bend the rules so the boys could wear proper punctuation shoes, as needed. Let’s agree that a pointy-toed stiletto is hard to beat for exclamation marks.
Thigh-high stiletto boots could be considered “safety gear” depending on what we’re drinking. But Texas isn’t one of those safety-crazy states, is it? Everyone carries a gun from what I hear. Boots won’t help for shit in a gunfight. But, who would pull a gun in a pissing contest? Okay… thinking out loud here [ since we seem to have the Internet all to ourselves tonight ], since there are some punctuation Nazis in the group (no names), we should allow stilettos, bowling shoes, Cuban heels, mules, kitten heels, Mary Janes, ballerina flats, and Espadrilles. Thoughts?
Now I know why girls, in pairs or groups, take so long when they go to the restroom.
I always thought they were in there, you know, bragging about their man, talking him up.
“My guy, he’s the best at everything, and he actually likes to rub my feet and fix stuff around the house so back the fuck off! That sort of thing. Girl talk.
And it’s really just a pee potty deathmatch. Awesome.
“A strange toilet picture and unusual washroom urinal with an open mouth clown in this funny restaurant lavatory and weird potty pic to laugh at.”
And: “Strange religious urinals shaped like nuns. These unusual accessories in a church washroom are very different toilet fixtures for holy men urinating.”
As well as an ideal setting for Tracy and Sister Smackdown.
Would this encourage better aim? At “my” local bookstore, the floor below the urinal is as hideous as any gas station restroom. Are bookish men sloppier than non-bookish men?
Are holy men sloppier than unholy men? (See my earlier comment.)
Teeth? Why would they give it teeth?!
Hoo boy. I was so fascinated by the base in the form of a panda-print collar or ruff that I didn’t even notice the teeth. Bet I would if I used urinals.
If I could pee standing up [with moderate aiming capabilities, which I lack] I’d shoot for a nostril.
Kathy, surely you underestimate your aiming capabilities. I’m thinking maybe we could organize us a non-competitive girls-only pissing contest for clusterflockstock..
My capacity ain’t what it used to be. Was a time I could hold an entire six-pack of imported beer and spell out my favorite verses in narrow lines of pale hues. Thanks to the blessed event (Andrew’s birth), the best I’ve been able to muster is “dammit Andrew”, and that was years ago. His pre-school made me stop. He’s 17 now so I’m way out of practice. If I limit writing to short phrases, I could compete. I’m only 5′3″, so distance competition will have to be bracketed for fairness.
Well, if we do it at all, I envision a non-competitive girly competition, which probably works only when participants are good and drunk and liking one another. But that shouldn’t be hard to arrange.
. . . and blow me down. You’re a little squirt, too, eh? The things a person learns. See, I’d imagined CIndy as a pipsqueak (till I learned otherwise) and you as an Amazon. Couldn’t begin to tell you why.
I am one of the Little People.
Oh . . . Kathy? What are some of your favorite verses?
…to memorialize in pee? First one off the top of my head:
In Heaven there is no beer
(No beer?!)
That’s why we drink it here
And when we’re all gone from here
Our friends will be drinking all the beer.
In Heaven there is no wine
(No wine?!)
So we drink till we feel fine
And when we leave this all behind
Our friends will be drinking all the wine.
In Heaven there is no fear
(No fear)
So we worry too much here
And we drink ourselves full of beer
To help us when we deal with the fear.
In Heaven there are no drugs
That’s why we hang with thugs
And when the Lord pulls the plug
All the thugs will still be selling drugs, yeah.
Thugs and drugs
Beer…
In Heaven there is no sex
(Oh no!)
So let’s do that next
And when our muscles no longer flex
Someone else will be having sex.
In Heaven there are no wars
Or cars, or movie stars
And when we no longer are
The world will probably still be having wars.
What the heck! Yeah!
Sex and war,
Bars and cars.
Drugs, thugs,
And delicious food.
clusterflockstock collective project: piss-inscription of “In Heaven There Is No Beer”.
With proper hip action, wearing a skirt and practical shoes, the girls can easily handle all the lines in parenthesis.
Hip action is the key. That’s what I’m teaching at the girls’ pissing workshop session.
Sign me up. I think we could bend the rules so the boys could wear proper punctuation shoes, as needed. Let’s agree that a pointy-toed stiletto is hard to beat for exclamation marks.
Maybe we could allow the boys to wear Cuban heels — so long as they didn’t get all sloppy with their punctuation.
Thigh-high stiletto boots could be considered “safety gear” depending on what we’re drinking. But Texas isn’t one of those safety-crazy states, is it? Everyone carries a gun from what I hear. Boots won’t help for shit in a gunfight. But, who would pull a gun in a pissing contest? Okay… thinking out loud here [ since we seem to have the Internet all to ourselves tonight ], since there are some punctuation Nazis in the group (no names), we should allow stilettos, bowling shoes, Cuban heels, mules, kitten heels, Mary Janes, ballerina flats, and Espadrilles. Thoughts?
I own all of the above, so I say: Yes.
Now I know why girls, in pairs or groups, take so long when they go to the restroom.
I always thought they were in there, you know, bragging about their man, talking him up.
“My guy, he’s the best at everything, and he actually likes to rub my feet and fix stuff around the house so back the fuck off! That sort of thing. Girl talk.
And it’s really just a pee potty deathmatch. Awesome.
More like a collaborative artistic venture.