(Written to a woman who accidently walked into a men's restroom...)
>
> Please don't feel bad, lady. It wasn't you entering the men's washroom
> that caused that guy to pee on the guy next to him. Hell, we do that all
> the
> time. It's rare for us guys to ever hit what were aiming for. Sometimes
> I go into
> the washroom, start to pee, and then just start spinning around; just so
> I'll
> make sure I hit something.
>
> You see, something you ladies should understand by now is that men's
> penises have a mind of their own. A guy can go into a bathroom stall
> because all
> the urinals are being used, take perfect aim at the toilet, and his
> ***** will
> still manage to **** all over the roll of toilet paper, down his left
> pant leg,
> and onto his shoe. I'm telling 'ya those little buggers can't be
> trusted.
>
> After being married 28 years my wife has me trained. I'm no longer
> allowed
> to pee like a man - standing up. I am required to sit down and pee. She
> has convinced me that this is a small price to pay. Otherwise if she had
> gone to
> the toilet one more time at night and either sat on a pee soaked toilet
> seat, or
> fell right into the toilet because I forgot to put the seat down, she
> was going to kill me in my sleep.
>
> Now another thing us guys don't usually like to talk about, but because
> you and I have become such good friends and you think I'm a classy guy,
> I might
> as well be candid with you because it's a real problem, and you ladies
> need to
> be understanding. It's the dreaded "morning wood".
>
> Most mornings us guys wake up with two things. A tremendous desire to
> pee,
> and a ***** so hard you could cut diamonds with it. Well, no matter how
> hard you try, you can't get that thing to bend, and if it don't bend you
> can't aim,
> well hell, if you can't aim you have no choice but to **** all over the
> wallpaper and that damn fuzzy toilet seat cover you women insist on
> putting on the
> toilet.
>
> And by the way, when you use those damn fuzzy toilet seat covers, the
> friggin' toilet seat won't stay up by itself.
>
> So that means we have to use one
> hand to hold up the toilet seat and the other hand to try to control
> ourselves
> for that perfect aim.
>
> Now sometimes, when you're newly married, (and I know the guys in here
> will back me up on this) you think you can get the toilet seat with that
> damn
> fuzzy thing to stay up. You jam it back and compress that fuzzy thing
> until the
> seat stays there. OK, so you start to pee, but then that compressed
> fuzzy starts to decompress and without warning that damn toilet seat
> comes flying down
> and tries to whack off your weenie.
>
> So us guys will not lift a toilet seat with a fuzzy, it's just not safe.
> I
> tried to delicately explain this morning situation to my wife. I told
> her...
> look, it won't bend. She said, "sit down like I told you to do all the
> rest of
> the time." OK. I tried sitting down on the toilet with "morning wood".
>
> Well it's is very hard to get it bent under the toilet seat, and before
> I
> could manage it, I had pissed all over the bath towels hanging on the
> wall across the room. Now, even if you are sitting down and you can get
> it forced down
> under the toilet seat, when you start to pee the pee shoots out from the
> crack between the bottom of the toilet seat and the top of the bowl. You
> **** all
> over the back of your knees and it runs down the back of our legs on to
> that
> damn matching fuzzy horseshoe rug you keep putting on the floor in front
> of the
> toilet.
>
> I have found the only effective maneuver to deal with this morning
> urinary
> dilemma is to assume the flying superman position laying over the toilet
> seat.
>
> This takes a great deal of practice, perfect balance, and split time
> precision but it's the only sure way to get all the pee in the bowl
> during the
> first morning pee.
>
> So you ladies have to understand that us men are not totally to blame.
> We
> are sensitive to your concerns about hygiene and bathroom cleanliness,
> but there are times when things just get beyond our control.
>
> It's not our fault, it's just Mother Nature.
>
> Now, if it was Father Nature,... there wouldn't have been a problem!
> ~Author Unknown~
:YEAH :YEAH :YEAH

 

that was funny as ****....i think i peed myself again

 

Quickly after adding an earing to my ***** (which truely does have a mind of it's own) I learned that I need to pay close attention when I'm taking a ****. Otherwise what I refer to as the sprinkler effect takes over. This isn't just two streams, one of which seems to rapidly chance direction dependent on the currunt flow of eureathra pressure, there's also a mist and spray. So grant it there is an enormous amount of control required, especially when drunk, or when I really gotta race like a **** horse.
My first lesson was a learning experience. I was at the urinal at work. Not paying too much attention. The bathroom was a bit crowded, and I didn't want to be staring intensly at my *****, cause dude, that's a little strange. So I wrap things up, and the autoflush kicks when I back up a bit to up the zipper. You got it right. I had pissed all over my left leg. Now I've had drip spots before while wearing kahki's I've also learned now I have to give an extra couple shakes due to the fact that commando is the only way I rock out. But this my friends was no drip spot. This was a ****ing puddle of **** down my leg. And I'm talking down past the knee. So luckily as I'm able to turn to my right where there's a wall, and everyone else in the bathroom is to the left of me. I hide myself like I got Harry Potter's clock of invisability, walk close to the wall, cocked to the side a little so there's little chance everyone will see the mess I've created. I get to the sink, lightly sweating now, because I know it's going to be tough to get back to my office without getting caught, and begin to kinda wash my hands a little. I've got **** all over myself, and I'm worried about washing my hands. Well when I take the towels to dry my hands I take a whole lot extra. When I see my chance I take it. Darting out of the bathroom with the towels hidden. It's a challenge but I get back to my desk undiscovered, in the mission impossible mannor. Now that I think back I should have hummed the theme music, but I guess I just wasn't in the mood. Well I dried that off the best I could and spent a whole lot of time on the message board that day waiting for that dark moist section to slowly dry away. Since this time I've learned to stare intensily at my ***** while relieving, or just sit down and take the lazy man's way out.
Well a great amount of time goes by and I'm out at a bar with a friend, probably about a month ago. We're pounding down shot's and G n' T's like it's our job and definitly getting pretty roudy. We both head to the bathroom, I'm pissing and he starts talking to me about something. I don't know what, It doesn't really matter , but at the time it's enough to make me turn my head to make eye contact over this intense subject. I finish pissing and turn to up the zipper, you guessed it, all down my ****ing leg, again. Now we're with some pretty attractive girls, and I'm not gonna be getting any kind of action if I walk out with **** all over myself, and there are no paper towels. I try the hand dryer for a minute but no luck. Oh well, **** it, it's a dark bar. I head back to the table using my friend as a sheild luckily the girls are up at the bar getting the next round of drinks (that's right, bitches buy us drinks), get in the corner seat and wait this thing out. Eventually I wait it out. The girls get every round and eventually I dry off. But at this point my teeth are floating again. I head back to the bathroom and I'm pretty proud, I mean I've pissed myself and these chicks don't know **** and are still impressed with my charm. Well I ****, and I pay special attention this time and I don't get a drop on me. I go over wash my hands and I'm using the dryer thing. Well some ****ing weirdo comes to the sink as I'm using the dryer and is shoulder to shoulder with me. And I mean firmly shoulders pressed against eachother. He starts washing his hands and as I turn to see what this guys problem is, and maybe if I can take him. He throws two hands full of water on my crotch. What the ****? It's my ****ing friend being out of line like we often are. Now we're pretty drunk so we both laugh, and at least now I can tell these chicks I didn't **** myself, it was just Mike being a ****er. Well let me re-iterate, we're laughing our asses off, he goes to walk out of the bathroom in front of me, and I decide it's baseball time. I take my cane by the bottom, wind up like Bo ****ing jackson and plant the handle across his right *** cheek. He leaves the bathroom screaming and limping almost as bad as me all the way back to the table. The girls don't think it's as funny as we do, but who gives a ****, Mike and I were entertained and they came home with us anyways. And that story or series of just wasted about enough time for me to take off from work. see ya

 

wow! you have a story for everyhting!

 

 

The day I sit down to pee is the same day I put a .45GAP slug into my frontal lobe..... from behind.

Which will probably be as soon as I can get my hands on a new G37

 

This is hilarious

 

I did the super man this mornig , it worked