Well, nothing says traditional Republican values like kicking the girls out and going back to the days when troops were run by red blooded American pedophiles
I’m surprised they aren’t attempting to rename the Piestewa Freeway. Clean up that bit of “wokeness” that slipped through.
They should choose this little bit (6th street, red pin center of image). It’s about half a block long, between two parking lots, where no one ever goes. Because Phoenix doesn’t seem to have a rendering plant, or convenient raw sewage dump, that would be a better street to name after him.
A remarkably high number of women also piss on the seat, judging my experience with public toilets over the years.
We’ll get that just after we convince the hovering women to actually sit their asses down on the seats. Because if everyone did then no one would be pissing on the seats and they wouldn’t be “dirty”
(Note that if you happen to be a hovering woman who is capable of getting everything in the hole and none on the seat I don’t care what you do. I just care that the person ahead of me didn’t leave a mess.)
I’ve been married twice and have two daughters, and I can assure you this is the case.
Actually, since I am the only one who raises the seat to urinate, I’m the one least likely to urinate on the seat in my house. (And yes, I put it back down after, I have been trained well.)
Well, I guess the dog is less likely than me, she goes outside or on a pad.
Here’s a secret: No man can aim. Sometimes, no matter where you point the main stream, there’s a side stream that’s, like, 45º off of it. The difference between men isn’t between those who can aim and those who can’t; it’s between those of us who clean up after ourselves and those who don’t.
Though, of course, “those who don’t clean up after themselves” is a pretty apt description of Republicans.
As I am reasonably anonymous, I can relate the story:
My friends and I were on a medium length hike and the last night was in a mountain hut with a fire pit.
We finished off the booze, and my girlfriend was jealous of us guys ability to piss on the fire (we had a lot of booze to finish).
So she hovered over the fire (just embers at that point) and let rip. She did not expect the smoke and urine-steam that inevitably exploded beneath her. This is how embarrassing legends happen.
ETA… She’s not Republican, so I guess wrong thread
I was once on a canoe trip and upon breaking camp one morning we realized we had packed all of the pots but the fire was still burning. We cleverly decided that all of the guys would piss on the remaining embers to extinguish them.. That is not an odor I ever want experience again.
Use your hand, you have skin to protect you (I’ll make exceptions for gaping open wounds I suppose). Grab a piece of toilet paper as a shield if you must. Then, when you’re done, WASH YOUR GODDAMN HANDS.