Up All Night

Thursday. 4:21 a.m.

Oof. What I drink last night? My bladder runneth over.

I roll out of bed.

What is…? Oh gawd. Did I emit nocturnally? I hope that was pee on the tip — pre-pee.

I park in front on my toilet and squirt out a spoonful of urine.

This would be easier if I wasn't somewhat turgid.

I squirt out another spoonful.

Come on, already! Wilt, motherfucker! Open the floodgates! I'm exhausted! I was up until 2:00 writing about fuckin' magic!

Dammit, I said "wilt," not "stiffen"! I'm not in the mood!

Thursday. 4:28 a.m.

I stand half-asleep in front of my toilet with a thunderous erection.

The boner cannot win…


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"The reason Kristi Yamaguchi obliterated Paul Pierce in a race of speedboat-drawn inner tubes? One player knew how to make her avoid mines."

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