Dribble Cock

Man-O-Man am I getting old.

I used to be able to strike a “Superman” pose while at the urinal. My hands on my hips, cape fluttering in the breeze while taking a whiz. All proud of the good deed I was performing. I was like a Bluetooth headset, completely “hands free”. But as the years rolled on, Supes had to start holding onto Little Elvis because that fire-hose was completely out of control. He would spray with completely different pressure settings all within one standing session. Elvis was an out of control water dragon. I would have to incorporate “tapping” the little guy to get out any liquid stragglers left behind or it would look like Mush Mouth was drooling on my trousers.

As time passed “The King” became like a young child I had to molly coddle for a decent performance. He would squirt wherever he pleased, sometimes with two streams at once (how can one man control both?!?) getting my slacks soaked if I wasn’t paying close attention. This trouser snake was really getting me upset sometimes.

My WeeWee was so cruel that he started sending me phantom urgings. I would feel the need to expel, but by the time I would unzip the urge would disappear. It was like my penis became my own little gremlin, always taunting me. Pointing his nubby finger at me and cackling (that bastard).

But here is the kicker, my urination technique has boiled down to this: while at the urinal, I finish and I don’t JUST tap…. I have to SHAKE that motherf***ing thing like a mad stew bum scolding the world. Were I to be shaking an infant with the same furiousness with which I shake that Lil Man, the result would be nothing short of SBS. My penis’ brain is completely scrambled at this point waiting for the dribbles to come out.

Man-O-Man it sucks getting old.

Tipping my dribbling hat goodbye

“Dribble Cock” originally appeared on the GunderBlog on October 25th, 2006.