Moon-Madness
Sometimes I get a little lazy and go into my back yard for a piss. I would strongly recommend it, even if you don'y have a back yard, use someone else's. Even if you're a girl. You might even dare to use a stranger's, but I didn't tell you that. Especially if you end up talking to a nice policeman in a holding cell while pee floods around your ankles every time he bellows "you sick bastard" at you, and your face droops like a blood-hound in permanent fear.
Anyhoo, the thing about taking a piss in the back yard is how honed your senses become to the task at hand. Because it's usually pitch-black, cold and secure, you feel like you could piss anywhere and no-one would notice. A bit like an ASBO with a can of spray-paint.
The other night was different however. It was not pitch black. The back-yard door was glowing with silver illuminescence. And as I pissed, perplexed puppy-dog expression on my face, I wondered how this could be. Everything else was black, except this eerie-looking door. I froze for several moments post-siphon, then approached the object of mystical hue. It was the moon. Almost directly above, masked by the house rooftop until I was standing at the magical door. Why do I feel the urge to tell you this? Because it isn't something you see every other night.
Think about it. There's this big ball of shite orbiting our planet and the sun's rays bounce off it in the dead of night, reminding us that it's still there, even when it appears otherwise. Like Big Brother. Just to remind us, it's still exposing us to the very intimate detail of everything we do.
And that's why, Your Honour, our genitals our the only part of our bodies that remain covered at all times in public. The sun is watching.
Anyhoo, the thing about taking a piss in the back yard is how honed your senses become to the task at hand. Because it's usually pitch-black, cold and secure, you feel like you could piss anywhere and no-one would notice. A bit like an ASBO with a can of spray-paint.
The other night was different however. It was not pitch black. The back-yard door was glowing with silver illuminescence. And as I pissed, perplexed puppy-dog expression on my face, I wondered how this could be. Everything else was black, except this eerie-looking door. I froze for several moments post-siphon, then approached the object of mystical hue. It was the moon. Almost directly above, masked by the house rooftop until I was standing at the magical door. Why do I feel the urge to tell you this? Because it isn't something you see every other night.
Think about it. There's this big ball of shite orbiting our planet and the sun's rays bounce off it in the dead of night, reminding us that it's still there, even when it appears otherwise. Like Big Brother. Just to remind us, it's still exposing us to the very intimate detail of everything we do.
And that's why, Your Honour, our genitals our the only part of our bodies that remain covered at all times in public. The sun is watching.