Why, I was staring at “Return of the Prodigal Son” in late June on a visit to St. Petersburg, when out of nowhere, a stream of high velocity piss splattered on the painting. Damn near got me wet. I was wondering where that came from.
One of life’s little mysteries solved.
Oh, and good aim Sofa King. Your detrussor muscles must be able to bend steel.
You might be able to pee farther (further?) than I, but I am the one that will have the last laugh when you have to sit on the piss dribbles I’ve left on the toilet seat!
Well, I didn’t want to admit this, but the truth of the matter is that I had special pee-enhancing modifications made to my urinary system.
All those horror stories of swelling, loss of mobility, dissolveable sutures that didn’t goddamned motherfucking dissolve like they were fucking supposed to, and utterly mind-wrenching pain were in actuality just a cover story to confuse those of you at the SDMB who would consider competing with my piss-prowess. Now that I am the Overlord of Urine, I can reveal the truth without fear of reprisal.
Sure, I won’t be winning any gold medals at the Olympics, but that is a small price to pay for the ability to pee far and wide across the land.