get some conversation going on the HT.

of couse i'm a big meanie: it's part of the job description for big brothers! :D

[chuckles, but dances out of reach]

[holds bi back by placing hand on her forehead.]

:D

ed
 
the first son of a bitch to tickle me is gettin' pissed on! :nana:
 
*tickles EJ*

And you won't pee of me, 'cause if you do, I'll kick you in the nuts. :p
 
bisexplicit said:
*tickles EJ*

And you won't pee of me, 'cause if you do, I'll kick you in the nuts. :p

you're in canada. if i wanted to piss on you i'd need a passport for my cock head... and it doesn't photograph well.
 
EJFan said:
you're in canada. if i wanted to piss on you i'd need a passport for my cock head... and it doesn't photograph well.
Probably suffers from motion sickness. *knowing nod*
 
Urinal Etiquette

Are you up to the task?
Answer supplied at a later date.


The following is the urinal configuration in a sample men's room.
An X above the number will indicate "in use."

(Sample):

|....|....| x |.. .|....| x | (Indicates that urinals 3 and 6
| 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | are occupied.)
-------------------------

You are to identify correctly, based on urinal etiquette, at
which stall you are to correctly stand. Good luck!

Easy Section

1.)

| . .| x | ...| x |.. .|....| (Urinals 2 and 4 occupied.)
| 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 |
-------------------------



Your choice: ___

-----------------------------------------------------------------


===============================================

2.)

| x |... |... |... |... |... | (Urinal 1 occupied.)
| 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 |
-------------------------

Your choice: ___

-----------------------------------------------------------------



===============================================

Kind of tricky Section:

3.)



| .. | .. |... |... |... |... | (empty)
| 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 |
--------------------------

Your choice: __

-----------------------------------------------------------------


===============================================

4.)

|... | x | ... | x |... | x | (2, 4 and 6 occupied)
| 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 |
-------------------------



Your choice: ___

-----------------------------------------------------------------



===============================================


Subtle, tricky, but important to know Section

5.)



|... | x |... |... | x | x | (2, 5 and 6 occupied)
| 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 |
-------------------------

Your choice: __

-----------------------------------------------------------------



===============================================

VERY tricky indeed Section

6.)

| x | x | ... | .. | x | x | (1, 2, 5 and 6 occupied)
| 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 |
-------------------------


-------------------------



Your choice: ___

-----------------------------------------------------------------


===============================================

Other parts of the Unwritten Code of the Urinals:

-- NO Talking, unless it's a good friend... but even then, keep
it terse and unemotional. This ain't no clubhouse.
-- I don't think I need to tell you, absolutely NO touching of
anyone other than yourself. A touch of another's elbow is of
the highest offense.
-- NO Singing. Period.
-- Glances are for purposes of acknowledgment only..."Yeah, I see
you there. I will not look again".
 
Last edited:
I've seen that before, except with little pictures and you click where to put yourself - its amusing.

I, for one, am glad that women get to go into a stall and close the door to pee.
 
bisexplicit said:
I've seen that before, except with little pictures and you click where to put yourself - its amusing.

I, for one, am glad that women get to go into a stall and close the door to pee.

I've posted this before, but in the interest of fair play and trying to leave no neurosis unturned.

The Real Restroom Story.

Only a woman will TRULY relate to the
following, but it's a "hoot" for all!


My mother was a fanatic about public toilets.

When I was a little girl, she'd take me into the stall, teach me to
wad up toilet paper and wipe the seat. Then, she'd carefully lay strips of toilet paper to cover the seat.
Finally, she'd instruct, "Never, NEVER sit on a public toilet seat.

Then she'd demonstrate "The Stance," which consisted of balancing
over the toilet in a sitting position without actually letting any of your flesh make contact with the toilet seat. By this time, I'd have wet down my leg and we'd have to go home to change my clothes.

That was a long time ago. Even now, in my more "mature years, "The
Stance" is excruciatingly difficult to maintain, especially when one's
bladder is full.

When you have to "go" in a public restroom, you usually find a line
of women that makes you think there's a half-price sale on Bond's
underwear in there. So, you wait and smile politely at all the other ladies, who are also crossing their legs and smiling politely. You get closer and check for feet under the stall doors.
Every one is occupied. Finally, a door opens and you dash in, nearly knocking down the woman leaving the stall.
You get in to find the door won't latch. It doesn't matter. The dispenser for the new fangled "seat covers" (invented by someone's Mum, no doubt) is handy, but empty.
You would hang your purse on the door hook if there was one - but
there isn't - so you carefully but quickly hang it around your neck (mum would turn over in her grave if you put it on the FLOOR!), yank down your pants, and assume
"The Stance."
Ahhhh, relief. More relief.
But then your thighs begin to shake. You'd love to sit down but you
certainly hadn't taken time to wipe the seat or lay toilet paper on
it, so you hold "The Stance" as your thighs experience a quake that
would register an eight on the Richter scale. To take your mind off of
your trembling thighs, you reach for what you discover to be the empty toilet paper dispenser.
In your mind, you can hear your mother's voice saying, "Honey, if you
would have tried to clean the seat, you would have KNOWN there was no toilet paper!"

Your thighs shake more. You remember the tiny tissue that you blew
your nose on yesterday - the one that's still in your purse. That
would have to do. You crumple it in the puffiest way possible. It is still smaller than your thumbnail. Someone pushes open your stall door because the latch doesn't work.
The door hits your purse, which is hanging around your neck in front of your chest, and you and your purse topple backward against the tank of the toilet.

"Occupied!" you scream, as you reach for the door, dropping your
precious, tiny, crumpled tissue in a puddle, and sliding down, directly onto the insidious toilet seat. You bolt up quickly, knowing all too well that it's too late.
Your bare bottom has made contact with every imaginable germ
and life form on the uncovered seat because YOU never laid down toilet
paper - not that there was any, even if you had taken time to try. You know that your mother would be utterly ashamed of you if she knew, because you're certain that her bare bottom never touched a public toilet seat because, frankly, dear,
"You just don't KNOW what kind of diseases you could get."
By this time, the automatic sensor on the back of the toilet is so
confused that it flushes, sending up a stream of water akin to a
fountain that suddenly sucks everything down with such force that you grab onto the toilet paper dispenser for fear of being dragged off to China.

At that point, you give up. You're soaked by the splashing water.
You're exhausted. You try to wipe with a gum wrapper you found in your
pocket, then slink out inconspicuously to the sinks. You can't figure out how to operate the taps with the automatic sensors, so you wipe your hands with spit and a dry paper towel and walk past a line of women, still waiting, cross-legged and, at this point, no longer able to smile politely.

One kind soul at the very end of the line points out that you are
trailing a piece of toilet paper on your shoe as long as the Murray
River! (Where was it when you NEEDED it??) You yank the paper from your shoe, plunk it in the woman's hand and tell her warmly, "Here, you just might need this."

As you exit, you spot your hubby, who has since entered, used and exited the men's restroom and read a copy of War and Peace while
waiting for you. Annoyed, he asks, "What took you so long, and why is your purse hanging around your neck?"

This is dedicated to women everywhere who have ever had to deal with
a public restroom (rest??? you've got to be kidding!!). It finally
explains to the men what really does take us so long.
It also answers their other commonly asked question about why women go to the restroom in pairs.
It's so the other woman can hold the door and hand you Kleenex under the door.
 
Scalywag said:
I hate public bathrooms with a passion, especially the ones without automatic faucets. I'll use a paper towel to turn the faucet off. I'll flush the toilet using my foot.

If the door to the bathroom swings into the bathroom, I'll use a paper towel to grab the handle. If its a paperless bathroom (with hand dryers) I've been known to wait at the door until someone opens it so I don't have to touch the handle.

Did I say I HATE public bathrooms?

So that's why you can't stand EJ.
 
Scalywag said:
Well, actually EJ is OK, although I think I do tend to pick on him a bit. He might even think I am stalking him. I have been assuming his av picture was taken in his home. :rolleyes:
Oh I see, no not quite in his home.
Hang on, I have a blow up of his av somewhere, that might explain things a bit better.
 
quoll said:
Oh I see, no not quite in his home.
Hang on, I have a blow up of his av somewhere, that might explain things a bit better.

hahahahahaha. :D

Poor EJ, we're all so mean to him.
 
Scalywag said:
Hi Bi, so, how was your second day of school?

My second day was good - had both my anthro classes that day, and anthro is the love of my life, hehe.

Yesterday, I had stats, and I hated it. The first lecture he taught us how to fine the median, the mean, make bar graphs...things I thought were simple in fifth grade! Ugh. All my other U of T classes have been extremely difficult ('cause its all famous and stuff), so I'm assuming this is gonna get harder too - but yesterday it was mind numbingly boring.
 
bisexplicit said:
Yesterday, I had stats, and I hated it. The first lecture he taught us how to fine the median, the mean, make bar graphs...things I thought were simple in fifth grade! Ugh. All my other U of T classes have been extremely difficult ('cause its all famous and stuff), so I'm assuming this is gonna get harder too - but yesterday it was mind numbingly boring.
I don't know that it'll get more difficult. Complicated, perhaps, but not difficult. Lots of plugging numbers into formulas, IIRC (I took stats in 1992).

But, hey, don't listen to me. Once I came to Lit, I discovered that I didn't know shit about "elementery" statistics. :cool:
 
Eilan said:
I don't know that it'll get more difficult. Complicated, perhaps, but not difficult. Lots of plugging numbers into formulas, IIRC (I took stats in 1992).

But, hey, don't listen to me. Once I came to Lit, I discovered that I don't know shit about "elementery" statistics. :cool:

Yeah, I guess just having taken a calculus course last year I was expecting a little bit more.

Maybe this will be my easy class.
 
bisexplicit said:
Yeah, I guess just having taken a calculus course last year I was expecting a little bit more.

Maybe this will be my easy class.
If you've taken calculus, you shouldn't have any trouble with stats. I took stats and Calc III the same quarter, and I was glad that the stats course was easy because I spent most of my time stressing about calculus.
 
Back
Top