Water On The Brain

The tendency to make rash or hasty decisions because of the need to pee is one with which I can particularly relate.  I think I may have the smallest bladder in the cartoon industry, with the possible exception of my friend Greg.  He and I will occasionally sneak off to see matinee performances of Manly Films (defined as films wherein most of the actors exchange their relationship views via rocket-propelled grenade.)

Neither one of us can sit through an entire theatrical feature without bursting, so we have developed a technique where one of us will choose a boring moment in the movie (say, one of those scenes where the actors have their weapons holstered) and make a dash for the restroom.  When that person returns, the other will tell him if he missed anything important.

Naturally, we always lie.  (“Dude!  Shower scene with the ninja chick and you MISSED it!”)

But it’s not just movies.  I’ve exceeded the speed limit on highways, blown through stop signs, and agreed to financially unsound proposals during business meetings.  All due to a pressing need for the potty overwhelming what little good judgement and common sense might be found in someone whose hobby is setting toys on fire.  This is always detrimental in the long run, and quite often in the short one as well.  I cannot believe how much time some cops take to write a ticket.

By the time I get home I’ve got yellow teeth and I’ve been clenching my dick muscles so hard that I’ve developed a charley horse in my urethra, necessitating a procedure wherein I scream, grab the urinal pipe in both fists, and bang my forehead against the wall just so I can loosen up enough to download the torrent.

Oh, did you catch that?  That’s right, I said urinal.  Yes.  I actually have a real, working urinal installed in my office.  I’ll admit it was one of those whims at the time, but it has frankly turned out to be one of the most awesome things ever in the whole world.  Ever.  When you’re on a roll writingwise, even just stepping into the hallway can disrupt your train of thought, so better to remain ensconced in your office.  And it is absolutely the bomb for conference calls.

And before I get any Helpful Letters, my blood sugar’s fine.  I just drink a lot of seltzer when I’m working, and I’m generally not incentivized  to develop long-term bladder control.  Because I have a urinal in my office.

So, anyway, I can totally identify with Wisnowski here.  Now if you’ll excuse me, I gotta tinkle.

Bob out.

Artist’s Notes:  Ah, pee jokes, the height of comedy.  The car in the last frame looks a little distorted to me now… but maybe the Chevy Corsica really was that ugly.  You can look it up yourself.  I used a lot of photo references for the vehicles but no tracing.  You know what’s hard to draw, is the spacial relationship of the passengers in the cabin of a car.  The more realistic you try to draw it, the less forgiving it is. – Max