Freudian? << home >> anticipatory toes
Of late, my life seems to have been punctuated by men urinating publicly.
Oh no, you’ve turned into a full-bladder magnet! Perhaps there’s some sort of job waiting for you in the medical field.
“Yarrr, empty bladders, come an get em!”
I don’t know, there doesn’t seem to be much of a market in it.
So you won’t be changing jobs? I’m relieved.
Et tu, Keith?
At least when you’re relieved, I can’t see it.
However, I can imagine it and I’m not sure that’s a whole lot better.
I’d like to imagine along with you, if you don’t mind. Which train station am I at? I do so hope I’m not late for a very important date.
Oh, no this time you’re at my neighbour’s side fence. I don’t realise that you’re urinating, but do notice that you’re acting suspiciously and seem guilty when I look at you. It’s only when the police turn up to check on ‘the suspicous man’ that you tell them you were ‘just taking a leak’.
Or something like that. Who can say.
Oh if I only had a nickel for everytime I acted suspicious . . .
The poor guy, if he’d only said “uh, sorry Mrs, I woz just taking a leak” I would have ignored him. But, no, he skulks around the side of my neighbour’s house and ...
Oh, yeah. You bet the cop laughed. I think I made his day.
Curiously, however, the guy is a friend of my neighbour and was urinating in his yard. My friends never do this. How boring.