They say not to piss where you eat. Well I don’t eat outta the sink, in fact, I make a concerted effort to avoid it, but sometimes I can’t help myself. I love pissing there, right in the kitchen. It’s the perfect height, lighting’s nice, and I kinda have to stretch my dick to make it over the edge. Plus, it takes a lot less water to flush. Might even rinse a dirty plate or two. Think about it economically. Toilets oughtta only be for shitting, 'cause shit's gotta go somewhere, and it needs a little help getting there. All piss needs, on the other hand, is a drain. Gravity takes care of the rest.
The kitchen sees a lot of action, mostly knifework, but also a fair amount of spooning, usually after forking. Sex and violence. It's where it all starts, where the food and drink that becomes piss and shit is either procured or made, not to mention the meals that lead to lovemaking. Or fucking. It's a place where creation and destruction marry for the sake of ingestion. Why not bring it all full circle, show that we appreciate what it does for us? And no, brushing your teeth doesn't count. What an insult, washing away all the kitchen's given you, all its gastronomical gifts, right there inside it. If you enjoy successful dinners, keep your toothbrush out of stove's sight, for one drop of Colgate can cost you a pot of chili, batch of pasta, pot roast, or all three.
Instead, piss. Going back as far as primitive man, we've pissed in honor of water. The completed consumption of liquids is a right inherent to all of us, but men have a special responsibility. Being that our dick bends as we see fit, hanging aim-ready, it's our duty to direct our piss to its best destination, to disgrace or bless the surface upon which we place our stream. And where better than somewhere it says thank you, rinses dishes, clears the drain of roaches, and requires a little calisthenics of the cock?
Damn, all this talk of pissing's made me have to go. Probably fix a sandwich while I'm at it. Should I make two?
Piss first appeared in Having A Whiskey Coke With You, Vol. 1 Iss. 2, August 2011
Download a copy here: http://havingawhiskeycokewithyou.tumblr.com/
The kitchen sees a lot of action, mostly knifework, but also a fair amount of spooning, usually after forking. Sex and violence. It's where it all starts, where the food and drink that becomes piss and shit is either procured or made, not to mention the meals that lead to lovemaking. Or fucking. It's a place where creation and destruction marry for the sake of ingestion. Why not bring it all full circle, show that we appreciate what it does for us? And no, brushing your teeth doesn't count. What an insult, washing away all the kitchen's given you, all its gastronomical gifts, right there inside it. If you enjoy successful dinners, keep your toothbrush out of stove's sight, for one drop of Colgate can cost you a pot of chili, batch of pasta, pot roast, or all three.
Instead, piss. Going back as far as primitive man, we've pissed in honor of water. The completed consumption of liquids is a right inherent to all of us, but men have a special responsibility. Being that our dick bends as we see fit, hanging aim-ready, it's our duty to direct our piss to its best destination, to disgrace or bless the surface upon which we place our stream. And where better than somewhere it says thank you, rinses dishes, clears the drain of roaches, and requires a little calisthenics of the cock?
Damn, all this talk of pissing's made me have to go. Probably fix a sandwich while I'm at it. Should I make two?
Piss first appeared in Having A Whiskey Coke With You, Vol. 1 Iss. 2, August 2011
Download a copy here: http://havingawhiskeycokewithyou.tumblr.com/
