a gripping story
So I’m in the Men’s Room when I look down and get to considering my grip. Funny how years and years pass and you never actually look at how you hold your penis when you pee. I mean, it’s not like you’re analyzing the way you hold your club just before trying to sink an important putt. It just sort of happens.
For those of you who simply have to know… my right hand scissors it between my first 2 fingers while my left hand adds the pointer finger for stability. As I stood there I had to consider the possibility that 3 fingers might be a bit of overkill. Perhaps if I was taking a leak during a 6.1 earthquake and didn’t want to splash or if I was target shooting that much control might be necessary but looking down and drinking in the scene it appeared I was ‘overhandling’ the goods. Or good. Not sure a plural is compulsory given I only have 1 penis. Before you laugh at the idea of target shooting I ask that you remember when there were actually little floaty battleships you could put in the toilet and try to sink with your urine stream. Potty Shots I believe they were called. They came in different sizes and were worth different points should you be lucky enough to sink one. Perhaps that was when my grip went from casual to dead-eye. I don’t recall even actually facing anyone in a competition though so I guess the demand for the product just sort of fizzled. This was before ESPN2 and ESPNU needed so many sports so maybe it was just bad timing on the part of the creator of the game.
I actually see guys just unzip and pee while both hands rest on their hips in a devil-may-care fashion that always has me envious. Sometimes they lean back and whistle as they do it.
Not me. Both hands are hard at work directing my flow as if the slightest miscalculation will send piss cascading all over the other bathroom occupants. I can even sneeze and not have so much as a drop leave the intended flight path.
So to put this obvious ‘overhandling’ to better use I went out today and replaced the porcelain sides to my toilet with a steel drum. Now every time I take a leak it’s like I’m in the islands. With my grip I’ve actually been able to quickly learn Jane Says and I’m well into the bridge of Girl From Ipanema.
This actually isn’t the first time I’ve replaced my toilet. Back when I was a bit more insecure I replaced it with a kettle drum in order to make my dick sound bigger. Really. I was under the impression that girls would listen in when you were peeing to hear the size of the splash you were making to gauge the size of your equipment and, as regular readers know, my flow leaves a bit to be desired so I created a toilet that made it sound like I had a hog. Every time I took a leek there would be a rumble coming from the john and when I exited I looked upon many an impressed face.
The charade ended when one of my friends, who apparently was the owner of a hog, used the facility and when he started to piss it made the fucking plaster fall down from the ceiling. Obviously he left my apartment that night with a girl on each arm.
I would continue to fill you in on the details of my urinating history but I feel the need for a little Tropical Surprise.