hip priest wrote:Crap.

I have a shy willy.

Too bad it's not a Free Willy

Although gregarious by nature, I don't care for urinal talk. If my dick's in my hand, it ain't men I wanna be talking to. That said . . .

Once I entered a men's room to find an old man basically slumped over the urinal--his forearm was against the wall in front of him, his head resting on his forearm. As I finished up next to him, he said to the wall, "I was here before you, and I'll be here long after you. Enjoy it while you can, young fella."

Another time I walked into the bathroom at a bar in Bloomington to discover those old school vertical urinals that go all the way to the floor. A wave of nostalgia washed over me, and I exclaimed, more to myself than anyone else, "Ah! My favorite kind of urinal."

"Yeah," said the bathroom's only other occupant, "the kind you pee in."

Brett Eugene Ralph wrote:Once I entered a men's room to find an old man basically slumped over the urinal--his forearm was against the wall in front of him, his head resting on his forearm. As I finished up next to him, he said to the wall, "I was here before you, and I'll be here long after you. Enjoy it while you can, young fella."

There's a decent likelihood that he was barely aware of your presence and instead talking to a monolithic kidney stone which he had just, unsuccessfully, tried to pass.

Brett Eugene Ralph wrote: old school vertical urinals that go all the way to the floor.

In England 50% of pub urinals are like this. Some porcelein, some metal. I had no idea anyone would consider them old school.

It's only just occurred to me that thanks to the stupid cocking smoking ban I'll never again have the pleasure of playing "piss the nub" with a friend.

it only bothers me if I happen to be taking a dump in the urinal at the time

Rotten Tanx wrote:It's only just occurred to me that thanks to the stupid cocking smoking ban I'll never again have the pleasure of playing "piss the nub" with a friend.

Can you find no pub that ignores Cigarette Prohibition?

I've heard that there are bars around Chicago that fully intend to ignore the ban.

After the Foie Gras "ban", I doubt anyone is particularly scared of any kind of ban in Chicago.

Bradley R. Weissenberger wrote:I've heard that there are bars around Chicago that fully intend to ignore the ban.

And then some are starting early. On Friday night they came over and told me after our set that I wasn't supposed to be smoking cigarettes in the bar. I had smoked like 12 durning our set, which is really the only time I smoke...when playing, and then I chain smoke.
This whole thing is gonna fuck me up for awhile as far as playing shows goes, I'll have to chew on a straw or something I guess.

Brett Eugene Ralph wrote: I don't care for urinal talk.

I prefer to piss in privacy, or, at least, practical privacy. That said...

I was at a show in San Francisco years ago and I bumped into an old high school friend on the way to the bathroom. As we approached the urinals I asked him what he'd been up to. He said, "Well, I got a botched vasectomy." We're old friends, and I was curious, so I said, "What does botched mean?" He asked me if I wanted to see the scar. I did. He pulled his wank out and lifted it up. I'm 6'5", and he's like 5'2", so I had to squat real low to see under his dong.

There I was, squatting on the floor, face-to-dick, when this other guy walks into the bathroom... "WHOA! Hey! Uhhh, I'll leave you guys alone!"

My friend and I laughed in that ha-ha-we're-totally-gay way.



In 1992 my best friend went away to college in Long Beach. He drove his mom's car 300 miles to check out the campus (maybe it was orientation week? I don't remember), and I accompanied him. With absolutely no plan, we ended up getting to Long Beach in the middle of the night and sleeping in the car. The next morning we got kinda lost and ended up at a Chevron in Compton. My friend went in to ask directions and I went to use the bathroom. I'm there, minding my own business, and this big fucking guy comes walking in. He pulls up next to me and just stares over the little dividing wall between the two urinals. Weird! I kinda froze, not sure what to do. He leans back and yells, "Yo n*gga, come check this out, this dude here got an earring in his dick!" (I had an ampallang, long story.)

So this other guy comes into the bathroom and looks at my dick. The whole time I am frozen, sort of pretending to pee, minding my own business. This was shortly after Boyz in the Hood, so my mind started to wander, thinking to myself, I'm about to get smoked?, Jesus, what a dreadfully embarassing way to die...

All of a sudden they laugh, tell me, "you crazy, fool", and leave.

I zipped up and got Straight Outta Compton.

I used to work in this book warehouse. It was one of those places that removed the doors from the bathroom stalls I guess to keep people from smoking weed? Anyway, I went in to the bathroom one hot summer day to take a leak and this really fat guy was taking a shit - quite out in the open. So I do my best to not notice him, take my leak, and am washing my hands when I hear him say - "whew - sure is a hot one, eh?". I look up in the mirror to see this guy sitting there on the throne - looking my way. "Sure is" I said, dried my hands and left.

It was shortly after that I found out there was a private bathroom in the front of the building.