Wednesday, November 25, 2009

Another collection of thoughts not long enough for their own blog post ... and then I peed on myself

This is obviously a little late because I wrote it five days ago, but I've been busy, and I still think it's safe to say I didn't miss the boat. HEY-YO!

Did anyone else notice that the only thing Good Morning America was covering last Friday morning was the tour of that new big ass cruise ship, the Oasis of the Seas? Aren't there people dying somewhere in the world we should know about? Famines? Flood? Civil unrest? Why is ABC devoting so much air time to a tour of a cruise ship that 85 percent of their viewers will never be able to afford to step foot on in their lives anyway? Oh wait, probably because Disney owns it. Just like your soul.

I love you, Sam Champion, but don't think I haven't caught on to all those innuendos about the girth of the ship and the number of really long dicks decks, when there are probably more important things that also have really big girths. Like your wiener Africa.

And anyway, the last time the media made this big of a deal out of a ship, I'm pretty sure it did NOT end well.

So basically, you couldn't PAY me to be on that maiden voyage right now. I hate to be the one to tell you this, cruisers, but you're all gonna die. And I don't think that really cool looking wave simulator or elevator bar or the twenty four pools or the floral shirted waiter who is bringing you fruity drinks with little umbrellas in them is going to save you.


On Monday night I had to drive to Massachusetts by myself. No big deal, I do it all the time. When I drive, I desperately want to avoid going through New York City via the George Washington Bridge, because, depending on the time of day, the traffic will make you want to slam your head on the steering wheel until the pain goes away.

The best way to avoid this is by driving around New York City and crossing over the Tappan Zee Bridge. But our GPS system, otherwise known as Cynthia, refuses to acknowledge that as a legitimate route to Massachusetts, meaning, in order to get there, I usually set the destination as the little town right before the bridge, and cross from there. Once on the Tappan Zee, I switch the destination to B's town in Massachusetts. Works like a charm every time. Until Monday night.

Because this time, Cynthia is an asshole and decided to take me across the George Washington Bridge. YOU SCREWED ME, CYNTHIA. And when I realized that was happening, I popped off the nearest exit to re-evaluate. Only by the time I got off the highway, I realized I had to go to the bathroom so badly that if I didn't find a bathroom within the next five minutes, it was highly probable I would pee my pants.

Only I was in bumbletown New Jersey, surrounded by industrial parks and power plants, without a rest stop to be seen with Cynthia screaming "RECALCULATING. RECALCULATING. RECALCULATING." And you know what's the WORST word to hear when you're driving and you think you might pee your pants? RECALCULATING. So I did what any self respecting girl with a weak bladder would do: I pulled to the side of the road and popped a squat.

But remember that little marathon I just ran on Sunday? My quads were so sore on Monday night, that when I dropped my pants, I realized there was no way I could bend my legs enough to get to an optimal squatting position. But those flood gates were already opened and that pee was coming. So I bent my knees as far as I could, held on to the car door for support, and peed all over my pants leg.

And then I drove four and a half more hours to Massachusetts.


Jen A. Miller said...

I popped a squat with five other chicks in front of two cops BEFORE the marathon started. Yeah, they need more port-a-potties next year.

Deidre said...

Oh, Bridget - seriously, popping a squat is tricky business.

Bellacantare said...

I popped a squat in Italy, alongside an empty bus (well, empty except for my three friends) while the driver went on break. I couldn't wait for him to get back and we were in the middle of no where, so I just did it. No shame, I say. Except, my BFF was keeping watch for the driver and standing a little close and "APPARENTLY" my pee splattered onto her leg. Whatev. I said keep a look-out, not stand and hover over me. Sheesh. Of course if she's reading're the best!

BFOX said...

at those times I am really glad I am a male and gatorade has wide mouth bottles that easily double as a pee bottle

Anonymous said...
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Louise | said...

Women really have it bad when it comes to peeing. If you were a man, the pee-over-the-pants-leg would never happen. Not fair, huh?

I don't want to know how that Oasis of the Seas would end up. x_x

kateyleigh said...

Um, you're amazing. I love that you blogged about that.
The last time I popped a squat was in between some parked cars... it was necessary. And of course I used to do it all the time during my youth. Because we were always drinking in the woods or something. Crazy kids.


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