My friends, I am here to discuss with you a matter of grave importance.
For many of us here in the US, the weather is turning warmer. The sun is shining, the mercury is rising and soon our long pants will be traded in for shorts, allowing us to revel in the playfulness of summer.
But there is a hidden cost to our mirth, and I am asking for your help to end it.
Men, picture this story, or better yet, cast your memory back to when it last happened to you, for if I know you well, and I think I do, it wasn't long ago. You are out enjoying summer's warmth, the sun's rays tanning your bare legs. You feel the tug of a full bladder and retire to the nearest restroom to gain relief. You approach the urinal, make the necessary preparations and begin the act of relieving yourself. Then you feel it, first a few drops, then an all too powerful wave of your own fluids, painting your legs with a foul brew of human waste.
Yes, I speak of that classic summertime affliction, Piss Legs. Whether you call it The Pee's Knees, the Yellow Scourge or simply "Jesus Christ, I just pissed all over my fucking legs!" the danger is undeniable, the shame, irrevocable.
So what is Piss Legs, exactly? Well, simply put, the Yellow Scourge comes about when your stream of wee-wee strikes the back of the urinal and then disperses back towards you, coating your legs in an unfortunate car wash of lemonade. In colder months, our pants bear the brunt of this awful assault and our minds fade of showers gone by, to the point where we consider the problem solved. But solved it is not. No, it is nearly put aside until warmer times come. Warmer, and wetter times.
So, people of this great nation, I ask for you to come together so that we may come up with solutions to this most unfortunate of problems lest an entire gender be drowned in it's own juices.
What can I do to help, you ask? What we need is a mass replacement of urinals every where. To the landfills with the tall, strictly vertical models. These are the worst perpetrators of the Yellow Scourge, reflecting back nearly 90% of everything thrown at it. I have seen grown men cut off at the knees when using these horrendous devices after too many Pabst Blue Ribbons at ye old ball game. No, what men need is urinals with a pool at the bottom, a pool that can be safely peed in with minimal reflection. Oh sure, some may splash out and land on your feet, but that's what shoes are for. If you're wearing flip-flops, well that's what you get for wearing shoes for girls and 8 year olds. Put on some real shoes, and for God's sake, cut your toenails you frat boy reject.
But you say, can't you just use the stalls and pee sitting down? Why sure we could. Should we also wear dresses and bake up a bunch of cookies and prance around in our Easter bonnets? We're men, goddammit and peeing while standing is our birthright. Take away that and you take away the very essence of being a man, namely the complete and total disregard of what's socially proper when fulfilling one's bodily obligations. When a young boy first learns that he doesn't have to wait to find a toilet, that the whole world is his toilet, well, you can see his first steps towards manhood unfold as he takes his first, gleefully liberating outdoor wee-wee.
Ok, you say, then don't sit down, but stand up and use the stall. And deny a stall to those for which they are sorest in need? Let me ask you something. Say you decided to take advantage of the Two For One Taco Special at the Taco Hut and two hours later you're feeling them rocketing out of your digestive tract at alarming speeds. When that time comes and you rush into the bathroom, do you want to see that all stalls are full simply because someone doesn't want a little pee on their leg hairs? Hell no! You want, nay need and empty stall. Men know the rules and the rules state that the stalls are for two things and two things only: reading and surfing porn on your phone. Rules are the only thing that keep us from anarchy, people.
Sure, there are other options to keep you safe and dry. You can try the stand back approach where you hope that your bladder pressure is strong enough to allow you to stand back far enough to clear the offending backsplash, but that's not for everyone and no one wants to find that they aren't as young as they used to be and end up pissing all over the floor. You can also try aiming for the urinal next to you, however that can also be awkward to manage, especially if the other urinal is already taken.
No, my friends, the only thing that can save us from the Yellow Scourge is a systematic dismantling and replacement of the nation's entire urinal system. It will be expensive, and time consuming, but think of the cost if we do nothing. Pee soaked legs drying in the summer sun, a nation of men stinking like hobos and wino's. Picnics ruined as a trip to the little boy's room results in a shower of your own filth. To act is expensive, to not act, disastrous.
When we band together, we can do great things America. Let us come together now, in our collective hour of need and end the Yellow Scourge forever. The men in your lives, and their legs, will thank you for it.