Doesn’t Ozzy Osbourne, pissing on the Alamo while three sheets to the wind and wearing his wife’s dress kind of own this title?
In my wanton youth I had a cyber-date fly down to visit me from Canada while my parents were away and was so exhausted that I peed the bed in my sleep. Lukilly I was able to clean myself up before he woke and when I woke him up I managed to get him out of bed and close up the fold out couch before he noticed! :smack: I don’t think I’ve peed anywhere particularly interesting on purpose tho.
My ex-boyfriend peed on Khruschev.
(He was a baby at the time - apparently his parents were walking him in his stroller, naked, while checking out the new ring road that was then being built around Moscow. A huge Volga limo pulled up, and Khruschev, bodyguards in tow, steps out. Apparently he was a big baby-kisser, so my ex’s parents, dumbstruck, handed him the baby, who promptly peed all over him. The parents were terrified that he would drop the baby or send him to the gulag or something, but apparently he just wiped himself of, laughed “Kids!” and got back into the limo.)
I’ve peed under a palm tree in the middle of the Erg Chebbi sand dunes in Morocco, an hour by camel from the nearest other facilities.
I just got back from Reunion, where I peed at the edge of the crater at the very top of the island’s active volcano (right after getting engaged - hey, I’m classy, at least I waited!)
I have a tale that is both disturbing, and hilarious. Thankfully it was not me. I cannot say I have not done worse but if I have I think I would require a huge amount of alcohol to reawaken the state dependent memory of it happening.
I used to attend a small college in Headington, Oxford where I had a friend whose name I can’t remember now but was always referred to by my Turkish friend Kerim as ‘that racist bastard that pissed all over my door’. However that is not the topic of the story. You see this friend of ours, or perhaps mine as Kerim did not seem fond of him, had a habit of drinking huge amounts and then not having a clue where he was or what he was doing. I know he did not do the things he did on purpose through bloody mindedness as often I was surprised that he survived some of them.
Anyway, we had friends down in the Oxford University. Our college was not part of the University; I have been told that originally it was but the University made the very wise decision to cut us loose. In Oxford University they are very civilised and in some of the colleges they have meals around big wooden tables with waiter service and beer and wine provided in pitchers. One of these colleges was unfortunate enough that a student had invited my friend one night. I am pretty certain it was a college that specialised in theology which makes the story slightly funnier in my opinion.
Of course if you are a leery pisshead such as this chap, whose name I have just recalled but will withhold to protect the guilty, then if someone is going to provide you with pitchers of beer then you are going to take advantage of their hospitality. Towards the end of the meal he decided that his bladder was as full as it could be and so he went off in search of a bathroom. I mean ‘decided’ in its loosest possible sense as I do not believe that my friend was capable of thought at this stage and was acting purely on instinct. So off he went.
Now a lot of Oxford University college’s are beautiful buildings of great age that contain furnishings that may be as old as some of the world’s greatest nations. They have wooden panelling and wooden staircases which are impressive in their grandeur. This particular, rather small, college had a stair case that went up four or five floors and unless I miss my guess was probably made of oak that may have been diverted from possible alternate existence as the timber for ancient warships that have lain at the bottom of the channel for centuries. The stair case was clothed in an equally beautiful carpet of lesser antiquity.
My friend made his way up the staircase looking for the toilet. I am certain that there must have been one on at least one of the landings so it is surprising that he seemed to make it all the way to the top floor without discovering one. Having reached the top floor without finding the correct room he evidently felt the most discreet way to deal with his sense of pressing urgency was to open his fly and take aim directly down the centre, between either side of steps delivering a stream of urine down the several storeys of the theological college no doubt hitting the balustrade of every landing on the way down.
Thankfully I had not attended this particular meal or any since because I am certain that as embarrassing as it must have been to be this particular chap I can’t imagine it could be anything near as embarrassing as the experience for the friends who accompanied him as they stood on the landing several floors below discussing current affairs and other serious subjects with the tutors of the college, religious men I believe, and suddenly a cascade of urine fountained past them which given the filling the well practised bladder had had that night was probably not a brief moment.
I’ve peed on the continental divide!
I peed in four different states with the same stream.
Just read zombie thread, better drink my own piss.
That’s appropriate.
mmm
I was once peed on by a lion.
Good pee story - Once I arrived in the twilight of the evening at a dinosaur footprint site and let go. Turned on my headlamp and I was perfectly filling up a pretty good size three-toed foot print from who-knows-when planted there in the smooth flat stone.
Bad pee story -1970s road trip story - After getting hassled by “the Man” for an hour in the middle of the night coming into the US on the ND border, I had to pee really badly. This at about 3am, and the guard told me to just go around back the building and piss on the wall. So I did, except his squad car was sitting right there. Window down. Bright moon. Opportunity knocking.
Yep, I wailed away all over the interior of that car. Casually got in my Volkswagen and toodled away. Didn’t dare tell my pal until later the next day, and he freaked right out.
I’ve always wondered what that guy went through.
Why?
On a long car journey with my family, it was around lunchtime and I was already desperate to pee - so we pulled into a roadside fast food place - I had already made it really clear that I was desperate, but everyone else was dawdling and dithering to get out of the car (finishing text conversations, looking for handbags, putting on shoes, etc). I couldn’t wait to lock the car, so I threw the keys at my wife and ran to the restaurant, burst through the door, into the toilets and straight into the only vacant stall.
As I was relieving myself, I realised I hadn’t noticed any urinals on the way in. I looked to my side and there was a little sanitary disposal bin. I could hear female voices.
What the hell should I do? It’s the wrong toilets. I’m in the ladies toilets.
I waited inside the cubicle with the door closed, waited for what seemed an age, until I could hear no voices, no activity, and crept out, to find…
… It was only silent because there was a queue of women waiting.
As a young and very reluctant altar boy, if me and my buddy got called on to assist baptismal services on a sunny-should-have-been-soccer-Saturday morning and had to prepare the baptismal font instead…
Eventually well busted for that one I can tell you!
Curious what kind of google search would lead someone to this zombie.
I once got peed on by a fellow patient in a psych Ward. He believed he was a dog
I like you. 