April 2, 2014

Dear Darren,

I have a shy bladder. My friends make fun of me constantly about it. I can’t stand pissing in public and the lengths I go to avoid it are embarrassing. Buccos games, tailgates, parties. I’m constantly stressing out about it. My girlfriend acts like I’m such a pussy because I can’t just go on command like most dudes, but I can’t seem to get over it. What do I do?

Pete, Friendship


Dear Pete,

Sorry about your weird problem. That’s no way to live. I bet it’s a brainpenis connection disruption, probably somewhere in the torso. Lucky for you, I’m profoundly “in-the-know” on this subject, so if you take my advice word for word, by tomorrow night I’ll have you peeing like an Australian: outside.

You see, bladder control is the cousin of sexual discipline. Once you’ve mastered pee and poop, taming your cum is like a walk in the park. So, here are a few ways to get your public pissing fears under wraps:

1. Hold it indefinitely.

2. Tell everybody you have diarrhea and just stick to stalls. You’ll have to sit down to sell it and farting also helps.

3. You only get one of these, but in a pinch, just go in your pants and play it off as a funny gag or an impression of someone you know who pees their pants.

4. Hold it until pee is literally dripping from your penis, then run to the nearest acceptable location and let it rip. More on that later.

5. Tuck your genitals back like Buffalo Bill. It works.

6. Suck it up and just pee on the fence with your friends like a normal person. If one of your friends makes fun of your probably small penis, just call him a “gaywad.”

*If you’re also having problems pooping in public, most of these suggestions still apply. 

If those don’t work for you, here’s a deep cut from my sexual past that might help you out.

A few years back, I was on a date with a vivacious Asian named Bethany. She was an absolute dime, as well as vivacious. Things had been going hotly all night, we were vibing on each other like ecstasy and viagra. Sex was on the menu that night and we had ordered a big platter for two. She was super into it.

But on the way back to her place, I began to notice that I had to pee really bad. Before long, I felt an ocean of urine starting to erupt in my loins. Gallons of Yeungling had made their way through my digestive system and now, they wanted out. In an effort to reverse the impending stream, I started mashing my penis inward, kind of stuffing it back into my body to relieve the pressure. Eventually Bethany noticed, so I played it off like I was jerking off.

“Just getting myself ready,” I shouted.

But I couldn’t hide it much longer. Every bump in the road was like an earthquake in my bladder and I knew the subsequent tsunami couldn’t be far behind. I asked Bethany to please pull over so I could take a piss and she said “oh, we’re like five minutes from my house.”

I stewed a moment. On one hand, this urinary urgency might ring feminine to her and she might decide she doesn’t want the biracial sex platter after all. On the other hand, I might piss my pants in her car. I couldn’t risk it. So I asked again that she pull over. She laughed and said “we’re here, I’m just looking for street parking.”

“I’ll just get out here,” I said.

“Chill out,” Bethany laughed. “It’s two seconds.”

“Damn you to hell!” I shouted.

I leapt out of the vehicle and ran for the nearest tree, unbelting and unzipping as I ran. As soon as my penis felt air on its face, it began furiously spouting urine indiscriminately. On my feet, on my shorts. I hadn’t even reached the tree yet, I was just a running, peeing man. But I didn’t care, it felt amazing. To this day, that sensation remains the single greatest orgasm of my life and it wasn’t even an orgasm. I must have peed for five full minutes once I reached the tree. By the time I was done, my flip flops were soaked and I was panting like a fat dog. I felt like a new man.

So I ran back to Bethany and apologized for damning her. To my surprise, she was un-repulsed and still super into it. We went upstairs, I changed out of my wet clothes and we embarked on a nightful of erotic canoodling. Compared to the divine ecstasy of my epic urination earlier, the orgasms were sort of by-the-books, but I was happy to learn a new trick nonetheless.

You see Pete, my bathroom emergency had actually turned Bethany on. It may not be sexy on the top layer, but genital passion is genital passion, it doesn’t matter which function is passionate. Having to pee a lot is basically the cousin of virility. Semen may be traded at a higher value than pee, but they’re both the currency of manliness. So own your digestive system, own it up Pete. Take pride in your pee, because no one else will.

Love, Darren