I get pissing anxiety, and not just in public places. I have to create games for myself in order for my urination to be successful. Now what do I mean by successful. My urine will not need a post-doctorate degree or come to grips with a mutual fund that garners some immediate income but is really geared towards capital accumulation. I often tell myself that if I destroy enough bubbles in toilet water by the efforts of my pissing, let’s say over 100,000 bubbles before my death, that I will receive a gift certificate for a higher end after-life spa, that kind that scoffs at our earthly ideas of ambient music, and applies rust inhibitor on our halos without ever implying a tip is necessary. I’m at war with the car wash cashier in the town of Little Neck…Queens. She accused me of using a dry shoe type polish sponge that was for sale in her shop. I was simply curious about how the shoe shine resulted from the light circular buffeting of the product. I hardly shined enough for the toe region of one shoe to shine, but it was enough for the woman to excoriate me as just another shoe fucking user polish man. In my war with the toilet bubbles; I am allowed ten nuclear options…use your imagination if you care to. I understand the the head of the FCC now reads my blog, well happy plane pee quick wand.
