Oh, hubris
In its modern usage, hubris denotes overconfident pride and arrogance; it is often associated with a lack of knowledge, interest in, and exploration of history, combined with a lack of humility. An accusation of hubris often implies that suffering or punishment will follow, and the proverb "pride goes before a fall" is thought to sum up the modern definition of hubris.
Last night at Logans (the pub, not the house in which Mike Logan lives) I decided it was time to micturate, as I am prone to do whilst drinking. As I announced my plans to make my way towards the WC, Emily, generous soul that she is, offered to hold my beer for me, but, lo, due to my extreme arrogance and pride I declared that certainly I could handle simultaneously voiding my bladder and gripping a pint, and off I skipped to the loo. Little did I realise how I would soon regret those words spoken in haste. Upon entering the Gents lavatory I set my beverage atop the urinal, waited 5-10 seconds to ensure it did not succumb to gravity's never-relenting pull, then proceeded to unzip. No sooner than I had pulled out my John Thomas and was about to unleash my Vespasian Gold, the beer took a tumble earthwards. In a moment of more reflex than thought, I grabbed the vessel (that now contained a fraction of the beer it had seconds prior) to halt it's descent, the continuation of the path along which my hands traveled before connecting with my now empty beer led straight into the side of the commode, where the structural integrity of the the aforementioned glass was significantly compromised. The now-weakened glass proceeded to shatter in the palm of my hand, resulting in several lacerations. And so unfolded the hamartia of Jeremy.
Last night at Logans (the pub, not the house in which Mike Logan lives) I decided it was time to micturate, as I am prone to do whilst drinking. As I announced my plans to make my way towards the WC, Emily, generous soul that she is, offered to hold my beer for me, but, lo, due to my extreme arrogance and pride I declared that certainly I could handle simultaneously voiding my bladder and gripping a pint, and off I skipped to the loo. Little did I realise how I would soon regret those words spoken in haste. Upon entering the Gents lavatory I set my beverage atop the urinal, waited 5-10 seconds to ensure it did not succumb to gravity's never-relenting pull, then proceeded to unzip. No sooner than I had pulled out my John Thomas and was about to unleash my Vespasian Gold, the beer took a tumble earthwards. In a moment of more reflex than thought, I grabbed the vessel (that now contained a fraction of the beer it had seconds prior) to halt it's descent, the continuation of the path along which my hands traveled before connecting with my now empty beer led straight into the side of the commode, where the structural integrity of the the aforementioned glass was significantly compromised. The now-weakened glass proceeded to shatter in the palm of my hand, resulting in several lacerations. And so unfolded the hamartia of Jeremy.