The Agony and the Ecstasy V Ending


continued …. I guess you’re just supposed to put them on and pee but, I couldn’t help but wonder what was the standard volume limit?   

Volume of the Dam?

I looked all over for the table of contents or for some of those FAQ’s.  I found nothing about volume.  Would the damn burst after a second down pour? 

What do I do?  I didn’t want to “pee the car”! 

I felt those desperate feelings coming on but I said, “Screw it.  I’m living la vida loco!” and let ‘er rip.  

A Spot the Size of A Silver Dollar

Glancing down, I noticed a wet spot on my black jeans at the top of my right thigh about the size of a silver dollar..  

“Consarnit!”  I’m pissed.  This is not what I was hoping for.  Without thinking I curse my dilema.  I get so pissed I can’t stand it.  Soon after I regain my composure when chuckling to myself I remember my earlier thoughts of being pissed off and feeling pissed on.  And I thank my lucky stars that I have a good relationship with my inlaws instead of having to hang with my outlaws whoever they might be.  

Suddenly, my thoughts about being with my outlaws or being pissed off or even pissed ON become a moot point.  The diaper experience taught me just how strong I can be since nothing compares to being pissed ON AND pissed OFF at the same TIME!  

I’m being philosophical and open about the whole experience.  In fact I’ve already started pricing the ‘double wides’ but ONLY if Jodi tells me my ass looks basically the same.  

The Agony and the Ecstasy IV




continued; Boy howdy did that ring a bell with me!

I Got the Urge 

Next, I’ll tell you how all off these factors came together to form this super collision.  

The morning of my departure I ‘suited up’ for the trip.  The gray ones looked almost dressy in my estimation.  Nice and cushy up front with a little frilly gathering work around the leg slots.  Jodi reassured me my ass didn’t look any different than usual (which would have been a ‘deal breaker”).

We said our good byes and I hit the road.  An hour and a half or two hours after leaving Port Charlotte on I-75 north of Tampa I felt the first blush of an impending shower and the anxiety that usually comes with it.  

Then, with hardly realizing it I felt the warmth.  

Golly, my habitual frustration, anger and pain was no longer an issue.  I was in heaven.  I dropped the Mustang into 4th gear, dusted the slow poke in the left lane upped my speed to 85 punched in the cruise control and cruised, smiling.  

All That Time!

Whilst flowing, I thought about all the TIME I was saving by not having to stop to pee the old fashioned way.  

By the time it was time to get gas I was so relaxed, I didn’t even think about peeing.  When the Mustang was full,  I thanked my lucky stars, got in and was back on I-75 in slightly less time than it would have taken a pit crew from the Indy 500.  

Shortly after the gas up I felt the urge to go again while at the same time feeling a bit confused because of my lack of experience in certain matters. 

I wondered what the volume limit was on these things.  It didn’t say on the package in fact, there were no directions at all.  I guess you’re just supposed to put them on and pee but, I couldn’t help but wonder what was the standard volume limit?   

continued …

Flip the Bird

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Flip the Bird

I was driving south on U.S. 41 in the middle lane around five thirty, hungry as hell, anxious to get home but not looking forward to another microwave chicken pot pie (I hate to cook when i have to eat by myself) when I spotted my favorite Italian restaurant so I thought, why not have Italian tonight?

When I veered out of the middle lane a whole series of sights and sounds followed; the deafening blast of a diesel horn, the sight of rubber flapping behind four huge spinning tires, the blaring horn of a car growing louder as bright blue LED lights filled the passenger side window, followed by the sight of a boy riding a bicycle veering off the side of the road flashing me the bird while disappearing down a steep embankment.

As my tires dropped onto the gravel parking lot I glanced to the right just as the boy and his bicycle disappeared into the thick growth of cat tails at the bottom of the swale.

I looked up just in time to avoid side swiping a black Mustang. The owner, his body extended half way out of the car window his lip curled into a snear, his face not 18 inches from mine shouting, “Why don’t you learn how to drive you dumb fuck!” looked like he wanted to kick my ass.

I cut the wheel avoiding the back panel by about six inches, kept my eye on the rear view mirror to see if the guy would get out of his car while at the same time wondering if I had enough room to hang a U turn and get the hell out of there when I remembered a GT emblem on the front of his car and realized it would be impossible to outrun the guy.

When I heard the rumble of the GT’s 425 horses I looked back just in time to see a cloud of rocks, pebbles and stones shot like grapeshot from beneath the Mustang’s spinning tires against the passenger side and back window of the Aztec.

The guy fish tailed out of the parking lot, hit the concrete, squealed his tires for about 100 yards, his middle finger visible above the roof line before veering into the maze of traffic.

Safely inside the restaurant I was finally able to place my order but decided to ‘take out’ since i was pretty shook up.

Back home I flipped on Orphan Black, sat down to eat then got so freeking pissed off I completely lost my appetite!

Dammit!  This was the second time in a year they forgot to put extra pepperoni on my Domino’s Pizza!

Until the Next Time: The Kathy and Derek Chronological … The End

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I turned and walked toward the open door of the Mustang while re-running a little video inside my brain of what happened during the last 10 or 15 minutes.

I saw Scooter Guy dazed and confused,  tangled up in the wreckage of his scooter wondering how in the world he went from jamming a yard sale sign into the ground to looking at the sky with a human face staring down at him.  

But most of the scenes in my video were of Kathy and Derek.

There’s Kathy half way out of the car window chiding me about the spelling of ‘Yeard’, making me aware of the penis, knowing that I’d take the bait, wondering what crazy shit would ensue. Her teeth her smile her eyes reflecting sunlight; the light of good humor, her body a metronome inside of some internal clock, bouncing up and down in time with the music that is always there but not always felt or heard or seen. Music that the world brings to us when somehow,  the rigors of every day life fall away and true life is exposed.

I saw Derek coming at me like a soft human tank growing larger his lips stretched back his white teeth gleaming in the sun, ”getting’ the joke,  happy to be part of it, unafraid to show his affection. The last thing I remember, sight of him laughing, double visions of his face bouncing to the music of HIS internal laugh clock.

I pulled the car door shut, put the Mustang into first gear, looked both ways and slowly let out on the clutch.  A split second before moving through the intersection  I glanced into the rear view mirror.

Kathy’s head was still outside of her window. She still had that shit eating grin on her face her head bobbing up and down and up and down and up and down just like the bobble headed hula girl that my grandparents displayed on the open shelving unit that separated their tiny little living room from their tiny little kitchen.

The End …..

The Kathy and Derek Chronicle Part I: It Was So Much Fun the First Time, Why Not?

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I hadn’t seen Kathy and Derek for a long time.

I like them because they are the kind of people who like me,  think ”stupid is funny.”

In other words, they don’t mind letting … or even making … everyday experiences become ridiculous.  Life can be pretty entertaining when stupid stuff happens all the time.

This story is a perfect example of how a seemingly innocuous experience can evolve into something that is so ridiculous that it becomes hilariously funny.

Here’s what happened.

I was sitting in my car at a stop sign that day, the second car in line, when I realized a commotion was taking place on the corner to my left, between two people; the driver of the car in front of me and another man I’ll call Scooter Guy, who sat on one of those three wheeled scooters that elderly people drive all over town.

At first I thought the driver was a friend of Scooter Guy since it appeared that he was helping Scooter Guy put a flappy little sign into the ground advertising a giant yard sale.

I thought they might have been having one of those joint yard sales, until the driver turned, walked away from Scooter Guy shaking his head, got into his car and drove away.

I sensed cars backing up behind me so I moved the Mustang closer to the stop sign but I couldn’t take my eyes off of Scooter Guy who, sitting on the scooter, was attempting to pound the stick attached to the sign into the ground with his left arm when, the combination of his weight shifting to the left and the back wheel dropping off the black top into a 12 inch rut, caused the scooter to flip onto its side pinning half of Scooter Guy’s body beneath it.

More …