(written 17 September 2009)
This Thursday night is the first mist. Clare drove us up the hill this evening after work. Something comforting about sitting in the passenger seat, listening to Beyonce, watching the mists slowly seep down into the traffic. Clare also listens to this other song called “Damn you’s a Sexy Bitch” which is about a guy who is trying to express how he feels about this girl that he’s met, except on the radio, they have made it “Damn you’s a sexy bmnnngn” which is just fucking stupid because the lyrics before that have nothing to do with trying to express how he feels about this girl that he’s just met while his mouth is full of broccoli. Clare and I also worked out that the radio station had recently spent R75000 on a new satellite dish that is tracking when I get into the car with Clare and she turns on the radio. The dish then notifies the producer for the show that he should cue Nickelback’s song about being a pussy mother fucker (actually the song is about how it might be prudent to consider each day as your last and therefore live it more fully – but it amounts to the same thing). And they spent R750000 on that? That’s just crazy.
I’m listening to Arab Strap. Check out these lyrics: “I pulled the ex last night / And it felt weird / To feel her up again / Knickers down and bra cast / As if the past / Had no past”. You’re either into Arab Strap, or you’re not into Arab Strap.
Things you didn’t know #1: Why you have never seen anyone weeing with a hard-on:
Weeing with a hard-on is tricky business. If you’re a girl you don’t know this because you’ve never seen a dude peeing with a hard-on because he closed the door, and no wonder: First, you have to stand about 3 feet away from the bowl, so straight away if someone was watching you they’d be “Why the hell are you standing so far away from the bowl?” so you can see already why this is something that you have never seen. If you stand right up at the bowl, you’re going to wee on the wall because of the angle that is set up right?, and that’s not good for anyone (example: Leith took a pee the other day, and Caitlin told a joke, and so Leith laughed and his wee went over the toilet and it went all over Darren’s EMPIRE magazine –weeing outside the bowl is not great). So you stand back 3 feet, and you have to stand on tip-toes and kind of try to angle it more downwards so that the wee has a chance of getting in. Next you have to hope that the wee jets out rather than does any of the many sideways/false starts things that wee does as it comes out… Anyhow. So let’s say now you’ve got the wee arcing gracefully through 3 feet of open space and splashing down perfectly into the bowl – what happens now is that your hard-on starts to subside, which, if this is the first morning wee, is kind of what you were hoping for, except that now you are standing 3 feet away from the toilet bowl and the initial force of the wee is starting to wane, so now you need to move closer. A normal walking action will result in a swivel, which is not what you want because, well, think of the basic physics of the relationship between the central point (being your hips) and the perimeter (being the end of the stream of wee) where any movement at the centre is exponentially exaggerated at the perimeter – maybe there is a simple all-in term for this… so you need to sort of moonwalk forward, using just your feet to get you closer to the bowl. And you need to move forward at a similar rate to that of the drop in curve of the wee – it’s kind of the equivalent of how your mind can do complicate trigonometry in a split second when you are moving to the right position to catch a ball (weird that they usually use the ball-catching as the example of the brain’s innate brilliance, rather than the wee-curve example). But once you are right up at the bowl and your penis is back in “relaxed” mode, it’s plain sailing and a huge physical relief, but that is another discussion for another time.
So there: Now you know why you haven’t seen anyone weeing with a hard-on.
So the Friday poem has been somewhat erratic, like a Geiger Meter listening to Marie Curie yodel “Johnny B. Goode”. In reparation, a poem, about threatening the chickens and other family activities:
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The rhinos came again last night
And crowded in the bed with me
The dogs are barking at the monkeys
Swinging in the willow tree
If that chicken doesn’t lay
1 big egg each every day
Gonna wrap her up
And sing her sweet
“down at the end
of lonely street”
The kids have 15 giant teeth
They grin and scratch out “smacks & tea?”
The avocados in the kitchen
Took my wife away from me
If that chicken doesn’t lay
1 big egg each every day
Gonna dig a hole
There in the dirt
Tie her up
And sell my shirt
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We've gone on holiday by mistake. We're in this cottage here. Are you the farmer?,
Tom
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