Fine, fine, fine.... Since we are all sharing embarrassing stories, I guess it is my turn. A few years ago on Black Friday, we were shopping after lunch. We had just left one store and were headed to the next when the need to pee started. I just figured it would be fine until we got to the next store. Then we got stuck in traffic, for an hour. I was still doing okay, nothing to panic about, until we got in the shop and the bathrooms were locked for repair. Apparently there had been a bit too much use during the "morning rush" sales, and two of the toilets overflowed, and then the last one gave up and refused to flush. So I am getting desperate, but slowly. We found the stuff we wanted and got in the long check-out line. By now I knew it was not going to make it. I left the other ladies and said I needed an emergency pit stop. I headed to the back just check the bathroom one last time, as expected, no change, no chance. I was already in the access hallway, so I walked a bit further down and ducked into the storage room. No one was around, stacks of boxes to the ceiling, and plenty of places to hide. I immediately ducked by some pallets and got my pants down. I pissed like a hose; loud, fast, excessive, and for very long. There was a lake of pee before I was half done. I finally finished and realized to some horror, I had nothing to use to wipe. In my euphoric state, I stretched the sleeve of my sweater over my hand and used it to dry myself. I hurried back to the line, just as the girls were getting to the door. On of them asked me about the wet spot, without hesitations, "I must have spilled some of my tea." I then inserted the sleeve in my mouth and sucked my piss out of it.   So there you go. Urinated in store and then swallowed some of my pee to cover up the situation.

While doing a documentary on wine production in France, we were given access to a very exclusive high-end winery. We learned a lot of their secrets simply by observing the process involved. As a result, we were only allowed to talk about certain things to maintain the privacy of the vineyard. Since the allotted time has passed on the Non-Disclosure, I can now talk about what I observed. During the fall when the harvest was the heaviest, they would crush the grapes from morning to night constantly. This was still a classic procedure and done by the women with their feet. We watched them prepare and sanitize their appendages for days before getting into the press bucket. Once there, they were stuck until everything was finished so that it did contaminate the batch. This meant they had no bathroom breaks, we watched as the ladies took turns relieving themselves from within the mash. They would lower their trousers and with great skill and force pee on the ground. It was common to sit on the edge of the wooden structure and shoot directly downward. Occasionally one would remain standing and the wife of the owner, never stopped stomping her feet while she went. Of course, as you would expect, when the streams subsided much of the effluence went directly into the grapes below or in the case of the wife, would splash in and around with her movements. When questioned the owner said it was not restricted by French law, as this was natural and common in the traditional preparation method. We saw three women urinate at least ten times each during the day and the later it got, the less effort was used to keep it out of the mix. We were sent a bottle of wine specifically from the batch we watched be made after it had fermented and was ready for sale. My girlfriend was apprehensive to try it, but I convinced her. It was actually really enjoyable. We tried some of the others from the various places we studied and they were not as good.... so maybe there is something to this after all.

Ah.  Not funny unless you recognise the cultural reference,  so it probably won't be funny when I explain it - but I will have a go. The picture is from an old American sitcom called "Leave it to Beaver."   The woman in the picture is named June and the two boys at the right are her sons.   The younger son with the freshly shaved head is the protagonist of the show and his nickname is "Beaver." Hopefully that should do the trick. 😉

Just what I need in real life. Beautifully written.

I know it is not the right season yet, but I want to tell you about our family secret for fire roasted yams. We set the leaves, get everything going, the embers have to be just right. Now the key to that special flavor that everyone loves is simple, when the yams are almost ready, right after they split open, you are going to pee on them. The liquid will get absorbed into the center and enhance the taste with just the right amount of saltiness. It also helps to put out the fire!