C
Chemical Evolution
Guest
Sachet said:*blushes*
Maybe you just need to let someone practice with it a lil
He he he,... ya think?
New Device Allows Gals To Pee Like Guys
- Thread starter Munkeee de Sade
- Start date
He he he,... ya think?
kristylynn
Banana
Ummm, that is really gross - why in the hell would we wanna pee like men...yuck, sounds messy!!! If public restrooms gross you out, hover or don't go - lol
LA_Hardbody
New member
WHAT!
The Big Cheese
New member
WTF!
B
Badgermoon
Guest
Sachet said:
I had a gf that used to like to aim it when I took a leak. For some reason she found it facinating
*Claire*
New member
first: icky.
2: they have paper ass gaskets for a reason.
C: as for practicing at home, I share a bathroom with two boys. they piss in the sink, the shower and every once in a while they aim for the toilet. operative word here is AIM, there's enough mess as it is, why would i want to add to that?
2: they have paper ass gaskets for a reason.
C: as for practicing at home, I share a bathroom with two boys. they piss in the sink, the shower and every once in a while they aim for the toilet. operative word here is AIM, there's enough mess as it is, why would i want to add to that?
Sachet
New member
Badgermoon said:
Gotta luv those playful types!
For the rest of the gang who are apposed to this..
Why is it soOo *icky* for a woman to stand & not a man?
Most often we hafta crouch over the toilet in public restrooms because we fear what we may catch anyway.
I hate having to do that.. especially when I'm wearing panties that are snug & they're holding my thighs close together.
Crouching also makes me afraid dribble is going to stream onto my pants that are clinging to my knees or I'm going to accidently let go of my skirt during the process & have that get hit.
I dunno.. but, this certainly could revolutionize the fashion industry.. zippers would be positioned between our legs
Most of my pants zipper in the back, but if you think about it.. the zipper on our jeans were put there as a convenience for men to go wee wee.
hmm.. we'd see a rise in crotchless panty sales too..
When I was younger, my parents would bring a plastic container with a lid along in the car.
I never had a problem standing outside the car holding that container when I didn't give enough notice for them to stop & a puddle was about to happen in the back seat.
In fact, it was a hell of alot easier than squatting..
B
Badgermoon
Guest
Hey, I'm all for it. It'd be a lot more comfortable to have a woman at the urinal ext to you than a guy, especially if your neighbor is peeking.
mailboxkillR
New member
I just had to add this little E-mail I got froma friend it just fits perfect here
For all the men who wonder what goes on in the woman's public washrooms.
>
>
> My mother was a fanatic about public toilets. As a little girl, she'd
> bring
> me in the stall, show me how 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."
>
> 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 go home. That was a long
> time ago. Even now, in our more mature years, "The Stance" is
> excruciatingly difficult to maintain when one's bladder is especially
> full.
>
> When you have to "go" in a public bathroom, you find a line of women
> that makes you think there's a half-price sale on Michae l Jordan's
> underwear in there. So, you wait and smile politely at all the other
> ladies, also crossing their legs and smiling politely.
>
> You finally get closer. You check for feet under the stall doors.
>
> Every one is occupied. Finally, a stall door opens and you dash, nearly
> knocking down the woman leaving the stall. You get in to find the door
> won't latch. It doesn't matter.
>
> You hang your purse on the door hook, yank down your pants and assume
> "The Stance." Relief. More relief. 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 it, you reach for the toilet paper. The toilet
> paper dispenser is empty. Your thighs shake some more. Then you remember
> the tiny tissue that you blew your nose on. It's in your purse
> e. It will have to do.
>
> You smooth it out, as best you can, then make it as puffy as possible.
> It is still smaller than your thumbnail!
>
> Someone pushes open your stall door, because the latch doesn't work, and
> your purse whams you in the head. "Occupied!" you scream, as you reach
> out for the door, dropping your tissue in a puddle and falling backward,
> directly onto the toilet seat.
>
> You get up quickly, but it's too late. Your bare bottom has made contact
> with all the germs and life forms on the bare seat, because YOU never
> laid down toilet paper, not that there was any, even if you had had
> enough time. And your mother would be utterly ashamed of you if she
> knew.
>
> HER bare bottom never touched a public toilet seat, because frankly,
> "You 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 . Then it suddenly sucks everything down, with such force, that
> you grab onto the toilet paper dispenser for fear of being dragged to
> China.
>
> At that point, you give up. You're soaked by the splashing water. You're
> exhausted. You try to wipe yourself, with a Chicklet wrapper you found
> in your pocket, then slink out inconspicuously to the sinks. You can't
> figure out how to operate the sinks, 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 unable to smile politely at this
> point.
>
> 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
> Mississippi River! You yank the paper from your shoe, plunk it in the
> woman's hand and say warmly, "Here. You're gonna need this."
>
> At this time you see your spouse, who has entered, used, exited his
> bathroom, read a copy of War and Peace, while waiting for you. "What
> took you so long?" he asks, annoyed.
>
> This is when you smile sweetly, kick him sharply in the shins and go
> home.
>
>
> This is dedicated to all women everywhere who have ever had to
> deal with a public toilet (which is pretty much all of us, isn't it?).
> And it should finally explain to all you men "what takes us so long!"
For all the men who wonder what goes on in the woman's public washrooms.
>
>
> My mother was a fanatic about public toilets. As a little girl, she'd
> bring
> me in the stall, show me how 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."
>
> 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 go home. That was a long
> time ago. Even now, in our more mature years, "The Stance" is
> excruciatingly difficult to maintain when one's bladder is especially
> full.
>
> When you have to "go" in a public bathroom, you find a line of women
> that makes you think there's a half-price sale on Michae l Jordan's
> underwear in there. So, you wait and smile politely at all the other
> ladies, also crossing their legs and smiling politely.
>
> You finally get closer. You check for feet under the stall doors.
>
> Every one is occupied. Finally, a stall door opens and you dash, nearly
> knocking down the woman leaving the stall. You get in to find the door
> won't latch. It doesn't matter.
>
> You hang your purse on the door hook, yank down your pants and assume
> "The Stance." Relief. More relief. 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 it, you reach for the toilet paper. The toilet
> paper dispenser is empty. Your thighs shake some more. Then you remember
> the tiny tissue that you blew your nose on. It's in your purse
> e. It will have to do.
>
> You smooth it out, as best you can, then make it as puffy as possible.
> It is still smaller than your thumbnail!
>
> Someone pushes open your stall door, because the latch doesn't work, and
> your purse whams you in the head. "Occupied!" you scream, as you reach
> out for the door, dropping your tissue in a puddle and falling backward,
> directly onto the toilet seat.
>
> You get up quickly, but it's too late. Your bare bottom has made contact
> with all the germs and life forms on the bare seat, because YOU never
> laid down toilet paper, not that there was any, even if you had had
> enough time. And your mother would be utterly ashamed of you if she
> knew.
>
> HER bare bottom never touched a public toilet seat, because frankly,
> "You 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 . Then it suddenly sucks everything down, with such force, that
> you grab onto the toilet paper dispenser for fear of being dragged to
> China.
>
> At that point, you give up. You're soaked by the splashing water. You're
> exhausted. You try to wipe yourself, with a Chicklet wrapper you found
> in your pocket, then slink out inconspicuously to the sinks. You can't
> figure out how to operate the sinks, 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 unable to smile politely at this
> point.
>
> 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
> Mississippi River! You yank the paper from your shoe, plunk it in the
> woman's hand and say warmly, "Here. You're gonna need this."
>
> At this time you see your spouse, who has entered, used, exited his
> bathroom, read a copy of War and Peace, while waiting for you. "What
> took you so long?" he asks, annoyed.
>
> This is when you smile sweetly, kick him sharply in the shins and go
> home.
>
>
> This is dedicated to all women everywhere who have ever had to
> deal with a public toilet (which is pretty much all of us, isn't it?).
> And it should finally explain to all you men "what takes us so long!"
chelle
New member
it's even harder going pee in Japan. The toilets are on the floor.
One must squat over it paying particular attention to pull your clothing up and over out of stream way. Sqaut, ready, set, pee....
Now, I managed just fine. My young daughter never quite caught on. Mom (me) would have to straddle over the toilet with her holding her up, helping her making sure she didn't fall in or pee on her clothes. She would end up peeing on my shoes though! :angry:
One must squat over it paying particular attention to pull your clothing up and over out of stream way. Sqaut, ready, set, pee....
Now, I managed just fine. My young daughter never quite caught on. Mom (me) would have to straddle over the toilet with her holding her up, helping her making sure she didn't fall in or pee on her clothes. She would end up peeing on my shoes though! :angry:
learner202
Banana
WTF would a women want to stand and pee. Shit I like sitting to pee. Wait......... OK I guess I'm ready... Let me have it.
mailboxkillR
New member
learner202 said:
Squatter
jaywooly
Guru
learner202 said:
I agree with Learner on this one. When it's in the middle of the night after a heavy drinking binge the last thing you want to do is turn the light on a hurt your eyes. So I just cleverly sit on the toilet to piss. That way I don't have to try and aim and then piss all over the floor, or myself for that matter. Or sometimes if I have morning wood I just open the shower door and piss in there. Hey, when you're drinking heavily your piss really clear. The person that wakes up first has no idea of what they're bathing in. Bwahahahaha!
Does anyone feel me on that? Harvey, Presser, Rugbythug, and everyone else with a lady that views the boards....C'mon, you know you do!!!!!!!!!!!!!1