I’m not entirely sure that if that is your name. In fact I don’t know your real name because we never exchanged details such as names, birth dates or favourite Sherlock Holmes mystery…so I have given you one.
First of all I would like to compliment the shirt you were wearing today. I really liked it and felt that it did a lot for you. In fact I can see all sorts of lovely people coming up to and engaging you in conversation based on your choice in shirt. The colour was slimming and really highlighted your eyes. So good work on the shirt choice there buddy.
Unfortunately your aim is not as a good as your wardrobe.
Now I understand that it’s a serious time of year right now at our mutual place of study. Things are building towards a grand academic climax and that brings with it all sorts of anxieties and strange behaviours. And maybe as a result of this change in mood you’ve been pulling some serious study shifts. Shifts that include the consumption of large cartons of Russian coffee, the kind of coffee that causes the drinker to suffer an effect very similar to a Religious seizure, and maybe a little bit of meth.
Just a little.
Maybe that’s what’s going in your life Andrew. And maybe it’s causing you to suffer a little bit, but whatever the reason I seriously think you need to be careful what you’re ingesting as it seems to have turned your penis into a Wacky Weasel garden hose attachment.
You know the sort I mean. It behaves like every other garden hose, only it has an attachment that causes jets of water to spurt every which way while the hose wiggles crazily out of control.
I can only imagine that this is what happened when you decided to take a pee in the cubicle before me, as there is no other logical explanation for what happened in there. It was almost as if you were deliberately aiming for everywhere else but the toilet bowl, but I feel like I know you well enough, Andrew, to know that you wouldn’t do something like that. Which is why I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt here.
Now I can understand why you opted for a cubicle over the urinal today. There was an influx of students travelling between classes and I can see the logic behind your thought process, but perhaps the meth and coffee has also melted your brain a little bit too. As that is the only way I can understand why you chose to urinate with the seat down, especially considering the (assumed) unpredictable nature of your genital’s movements.
I understand that there is a sense of pride instilled in men who believe themselves capable of peeing with the seat down and thus displaying their superior aiming prowess, but let me just say to everyone and not just you, dearest Andrew, THAT IS NOT A THING.
I’m sorry, pride be damned. Whatever Freudian theory you have for doing it, it’s stupid and pointless and the only thing you’re proving to anyone is that your ability to piss on a seat is first class. Just shelve your insecurities for a half a second and lift the lid up.
So I do hope that wasn’t the motivating factor for your scattershot approach, Andrew, because that would definitely sully my view of you as a general all-round nice guy who just made some bad life choices…
Basically what I am trying to say, Andrew ol’ pal, is that in future it would be in your best interests to perhaps lift that seat up to give you a much larger surface area to cover (especially if you’re going to continue consuming that study boosting cocktail of coffee and amphetamines). It’s nothing personal, just a little advice. That’s all.
No hard feelings of course.
However if I happen to catch you out again and find myself standing in front of a toilet seat dripping with piss as you swan out of the restroom in your stupid shirt, I may have to take some drastic action in the form of buying a second-hand catheter on eBay and coming after you in your sleep to ensure that you never have the trouble of worrying about your aim again.
All my best and good luck with your study.