Bad habits.

We all got ‘em. No one is exempt. Maybe you chew your nails. Maybe you pick your nose. Maybe you breathe through your nose. Maybe you breathe through your nose while you’re picking it. Whatever. We’re human, imperfect beings in God’s eyes. I’m sure He understands, and we ought to understand one another’s habits, too. But I have a habit that is really beginning to concern me. I’m sad to say it consumes my thoughts night and day. Now some might say I share too much on this blog… y’know, about my pantlessness and all… but I really gotta write about this.

I aim for urinal cakes when using public restrooms.

I can’t help it! It’s just there, begging to be saturated. Those oversized pink breath mints are just waiting out in the open, hoping to fulfill their purpose by absorbing a steady stream of wee-wee, keeping the urinal that houses it nice and clean. Well y’know what? I just want to see to it that these courageous li’l suckers get to realize that dream!

Does that make me a bad person? I mean, am I really a horrible human being just because I envision a bullseye whilst relieving myself? Am I a poor individual because I revel in watching the little pink nuggets break off from the mother cake and dissipate as they flow down the drain? And for the record, I don’t go for distance, so should you ever happen to come across me in a public restroom, rest assured I won’t be five feet away from the urinal playing firefighter. I will be in the standard “against the wall” position. The only difference is I’ll be trying to have a little fun while I’m doing my business.

Y’know, say what you will, but this so-called “public restroom etiquette” is overrated to begin with. Guys, why do we feel obligated to look straight ahead at the wall when another guy takes the urinal next to us? Are we that sensitive about the size of our hwangs? Just deal with it, OK? And if you catch a glimpse of some other guy’s hwang, big deal. It’s not like you offered to help him. It’s not like you tried to get in on his urinal and cross the streams. And unless you get a semi, there’s no shame. It’s called peripheral vision, it happens.

We need to loosen up a little! Dare I say, we need to have fun in the restroom. In fact, now that I think about it, there really should be more to do in public restrooms. For guys, anyway. I mean, it’s already a major social scene for girls, why can’t it be the same way for guys?

I wanna see full amenities. I’m talking beyond just condom machines or trendy Muzak stations. There oughta be a dartboard in some of these things. What if you’re in one of these fancy hotels or restaurants, the kind where there’s a “restroom caddy” that sits in there and keeps the towels fresh and the breathmints coming. What if all you have to tip him is a twenty and he can’t break it? Solution: ATM machine that dolls out singles. Better yet, a change machine. You’ll need some quarters for the pinball machine. Or the jukebox. Or the built-in video games on the inside of the stall doors. What more beautiful thing is there than playing three rounds of Soul Caliber II before wiping? And since we’re in the midst of the Triple Crown hunt, there should be an Off Track Betting outlet in all public restrooms. Not all of us can drive to Mohegan to plunk down some change on Funny Cide. And I’ll tell ya, if there were OTBs in restrooms, I’d have won $1,400 on Sarava during Belmont Downs last year. Besides fellas, you’ll need the money that fine horse earned you for the roulette wheel. See? Public restrooms can be fun after all.

Just don’t cross the streams. Aim for your own urinal cake.

Goodnight, and have a pleasant tomorrow.