I’ve been noticing recently that men are starting to get dumb when it comes to basic life skills. Sure, you may have great skills like nunchuck skills, bowhunting skills, and computer hacking skills, but when it comes down to the basic level of being human – the virtues of being a self-aware upright-walking human with some semblance of a conscience – you playas have got it all wrong.

So I’m going back to the basics. I’ll be devoting time to you fuckers in my new “Life Skills for a Playa” lecture series. I seriously don’t know how you animals can survive without me, sometimes. Perhaps the most flagrant offenses these classless men are committing these days occur right at what may be the most important visit of the day: the public restroom. So here’s a Life Skills module devoted to the public restrooms and mass urinals.

The Piss.

First things first: don’t dilly dally around, fool. The urinal is a precision machine made to do one job well: flush your piss. Don’t desecrate this great invention by drawing imaginary circles with your precision stream or what have you. The guys next to you will no doubt zip up early and split if they have any doubt “about you". If y’all naw mean.

When you’re at a urinal, make sure you completely avoid the “piss mint", as the chances of it splashing back on you increase tenfold. I think they’re even purposely manufactured this way. “Piss on me and I’ll piss back, sucka!” would be a catchy slogan for the next brand of piss mints. If you’re in line or out of luck and can’t find an available urinal, DON’T feel bad and DO proceed to your nearest stall, choosing the correct stall by applying the “I Can’t Wait No More” rule for optimum and efficient bladder displacement.

The rule goes like this: Go to a urinal if there is one available. If there’s not, don’t hesitate to use an empty stall. If there’s no empty stall ANDthe ONLY thing left is the handicap stall, AND there’s NO handicapped people in the establishment, only then can will it be okay to use it.

If you’re lucky enough to get a stall, feel free to participate in a game I like to call “Big Poppa". The game starts as soon as your piss hits the toilet water. Take out all the biggest bubbles that surface in the fastest manner possible, all while trying to suppress giggling like a little bitch. Seriously, it’s that fun. Note: this game is not applicable to a urinal. Especially a community “trench-style” urinal. Real playas don’t run up and down and around other guys trying to take out their opponents’ biggest bubbles. You’ll definitely get beaten and pissed on.

One last tip. I call it “Maneuver Numero Uno". Make sure that after you’ve pinched that last little clincher outta there, you give yourself the reach-around (sorta), and push against your taint. The little bit left in there waiting for you to zip up and walk away will jump down your pants and leave a nice little surprise for those lucky enough to be behind you when you get up out of your chair. So go ahead. Squeeze every last droplet outta that taint of yours. You’ll thank me later.

The Deuce.

First off, don’t deuce unless absolutely fucking necessary. Once you get an urge, don’t go. Act smooth, finish that last little sip of water or biscuit, and go on with whatever you’re doing. Last thing we need is somebody getting the deer-in-the-headlights look next time the bowels make a Beethoven-sized movement. If you go prematurely, all the poop might not come out (camera shy, I’m guessing), making you waste another trip to the restroom and giving your woman the impression you’ve got a bad case of explosive diarrhea. Once you’ve waited until the last possible minute (read: gopher-holin’ it), make your way smoothly and calmly into the nearest restroom, be sure to skip the handicap stall, and plant your ass firmly onto the john. Don’t worry about using the sanitary seat liner paper, as most public restrooms across the country nowadays are perfectly sanitary as they are.

Ha! Just kidding. Slap two of those bitches on there. Double check on the available supply of “hygiene paper” (that’s TP for you ill-versed illiterates), and let the rockets fly. Or drop. Deuces in the hole! Enjoy your moment of zen. Don’t waste your “me-time” by picking up a newspaper or magazine. Nothing should stop you from an enlightening poop (I’ll stop on the puns, folks).

No doubt you’ll have to release a few choice farts as you’re doing your business. So, do it proudly. It gives the guy in the next stall comfort you’re not doing anything else except dropping a good old-fashioned deuce. If you’ve ingested too many prunes and fiber, you might feel a little “runny". Let that shit fly, man. It’s gonna stink, it’s gonna sound stanky-assed, but it’ll definitely make you the most popular guy in the bathroom. You keep that gurgling and bubbling going nice and loud with a few choice and well-timed grunts of satisfaction, and you’ll get a quiet reveration as you leave from those sharing that restroom with you. Best of all, you’ll have a calm sense of peace knowing you left your fellow neighbor a little taste of what you’re all about.

Wipe from the back, not the front, little bitch. Make sure your member is all-clear from the seat, as that thing is crawling with more foreign organisms than Britney getting inseminated. The seat, silly.
Pinch off the last bit of urine, and turn around and perform Maneuver Numero Uno again to get that last little bitta piss outta your taint. Trust me. If you’ve ever walked one foot back out of the restroom and surprise-pissed yourself to make Miles Davis envious, you’ll know how important this is and you’ll thank me on this one. Those last few drops will come back to haunt you, my brotha.

Finally, and maybe the subject I must stress the most because of the seemingly flagrant disregard for common courtesy, FLUSH the fucking thing. Jesus H. Christ, asswipes. I can appreciate yo’ flava, and can even get down with the rhythmic pounding of your farts and happy groans, but for God’s sake don’t just leave it there! As much as leaving your 14.7″ corn-peppered monster coiled at the bottom of the toilet for the next hapless victim makes your i-penis feel bigger, it’s just not cool, mang.

The Hand Wash.

Washing hands ain’t no sissy job, sucka. You’ve heard it before and you’ll hear it again: wash your hands for thirty seconds with vigorous (and that’s the only time you’ll hear me mention “vigorous” aside from another obvious act) scrubbing with soap, then rinse thoroughly. Trust me. Your intellectual penis (read: i-penis) gets bigger with each second you outwash all the other men in there. Really. Women count the seconds you spend in the bathroom, so if you’re an in-an’-outter within 20 seconds, women assume either 1) you pissed like a bazooka and ran outta there with some kidney residue on your digits, or 2) you went into the bathroom solely to ogle yourself in the mirror, both of which do you no good.
If possible, use the paper towel to open the bathroom door, because, like I said, there’s in-an’-outters who “don’t need to” sanitize their hands.

And please don’t take a eight-foot-long roll of paper towel to dry your hands. You look like an asshat while doing it, and you’re wasting good paper that could be used to help cut down textbook costs for kids around the globe.

I’ve taught you The Piss, I’ve taught you The Deuce, and I imparted the proper procedure for washing your hands. Hopefully you’ll be able to apply this new-found knowledge with expertise and good judgment. What more could you ask for? Well, there is one thing I didn’t mention, that might as well save your life:

Don’t peek.

Your i-penis shrinks drastically, and worse yet, you might even get a wink back in surprise.

By Robert Shagwell | Oct 16, 2004 | Permalink |