From time to time, I feel it’s my duty as a citizen to alert the public to escalating health crises, big and small. I’m sorry if this makes some of you uncomfortable, but it must be said …
As I get older, my bladder seems to get smaller and smaller in an effort to achieve its lifetime goal of one day being the size of a grape. This means that I make increasingly frequent visits to public restrooms and am shocked at the piss-poor restroom etiquette of my fellow males of the species. Is it really so hard? American men pride themselves on holes-in-one, slam-dunks, touchdowns, bull’s eyes, home-runs, knockouts, and GOOOOOOAAAAAALs, yet they walk into public restrooms and pee like drunk circus monkeys, never once hitting the mark. Not that I’ve ever seen a drunk circus monkey pee, but I can’t imagine it ever goes the way you think it should.
Now look at this:
That is what I would look like as a zombie.
… Actually … that’s not that bad …
Anyway, I’m convinced that the zombie apocalypse will be a direct result of flesh eating bacteria currently breeding in men’s rooms everywhere. This is a matter of public health and national security. The CDC must get involved, and fast!
Now I’m nothing if not a problem solver, so I propose a law that requires all men’s room floors, walls, and ceilings to be equipped with urine sensors capable of registering the identity of the errant pisser through DNA. By law, those gentleman will be outfitted with a device, I’m thinking hose couplers and magnets spliced into their one-eyed wonder worm with an automated spigot that will not release until the coupler is locked firmly in place in the restroom receptacles that must be installed by say … next Tuesday. Think of those things they use to refuel airplanes in mid-air and you’ll have an idea of what I mean. And don’t worry — it’s not as lewd as it sounds … unless you’re into that sort of thing.
I realize some of these fellows make a habit of “holding it” and will probably explode in a cloud of urine, being relieved of their ability to duck behind trees, bushes, and children’s backyard playhouses, but these are acceptable losses. Let them be a warning to the others.
Oh, and we also need to enforce pubic hair nets. One could make a sweater out of derelict, men’s room pubes, if one were so inclined.