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Wednesday, April 21, 2004
This morning I lowered myself down about… oh, I’d say a good ten points on the decency scale. And that’s saying something, as I think I tend to border on the “ye with no morals and possessing total lack of interest in societal niceties” side of life. Or, to phrase it more simply, as some of my “closer” friends fondly refer to me: “Stupid Dawei: Odious Beeyotch, Possessor of White-Man ‘Fro”.

Unfortunately it wasn’t a deficit of sexual scruples which has caused my dilemma. Don't worry, it’s not as if I went into a public bathroom and licked the cum off the dank ‘n’ sticky tiles… or the porcelain of the urinal. Or are most urinals made of like, metal these days? I hate urinals. Like, why do I have to stand on a grill thing, which is probably covered in faecal matter, and wave my dick around and piss onto a fucking wall with a whole lot of strangers? Why would someone invent such an infernal practice? This is why I like the toilets at Family: full door, full wall, automatic handwash-y stuff so I don’t have to touch anything. Good times. And the girl’s toilets have, like, a couch! So that’s pretty cool too. Oh, I’m getting sidetracked.

Nah, I suppose it could have been a lot worse (although if it was sex-related, at least I would have gotten an orgasm out of it, which is always a good thing, non?). And it’s not like I was far off with the whole public toilet example. For some reason, when I was driving home from uni, I had the inescapable urge to piss. Normally I could hold it until I got home, by mentally tying a knot in my urethra, but my bladder was suffering from some serious water bulge-age. So anyway, I pull over in a park by the river, almost crying in urine-related pain, quickly check out the people-situation, whip out my urinating device (aka Dawei’s penis, hehehehehe), and promptly fill an empty 600ml bottle of Coke I luckily had rolling around the floor of my shitty car. I urinated in a bottle, in my car, in a park, people!!! How mortifying. Have I let myself go that far? And then, feeling about five thousand times better, I look around the park, and see some little kiddies playing with their mums about twenty metres away. I got my dick out in a public park while children were in close proximity. Ugh. I’m totally, like, Michael Jackson or Gary Glitter! I even have that aforementioned weird-arse white-skin-bouffant-afro combination thing going on.

On the plus side, I was pretty impressed with myself. I mean, the hole of a Coke bottle is pretty small (NOT an opportunity to make “hilarious” comments about my manliness), so I’m pretty stoked with my accuracy. There weren’t even any splashback drops or anything! That is pure pelvic control, people, allowing a smooth and accurate jet of liquid. Envy me.

In a more Brisbane-related piece of news, I am saddened to find that one of my favourite shops in the Valley, UltraSuite, has totally become a chain and opened up a shop in a… *shudder* MALL. The Indooroopilly Shopping Centre to be exact. How COMMON. Where am I to find my ridiculously overpriced denim and t-shirts now? I make it a point never to buy articles of clothing from chain shops, so anything in those big-arse shopping centres are immediately cut from my possible purchase list (underwear and socks are exempt from this rule, as I’m not flying to fucking London to buy Bonds in a boutique).

Although now that I’ve pissed in broad daylight in my own car, am I finally slipping down the short slippery slope into mediocrity? Should I just get it all over with now and buy some jeans from (gulp) JeansWest, or a t-shirt from industrie? I guess it would be a lot easier being part of the hoi polloi. You should have seen me trolling the streets for a suitable place to get my hair cut today. I walked away empty handed. Sigh. The only thing cheering me up is the image of some bum picking up my bottle, thinking it’s water, and gulping down some of my sweet pee. That’s the good thing about being incredibly well-hydrated: practical jokes are made a lot easier.