The Poetry of the Bladder

As recent events committed by certain, highly esteemed members of Scandinavian society have shown, urination can be a great form of revenge. By urinating on somebody and/or his or her possessions, you are effectively saying:

“Hey you! Get the fuck over here you fucking asshole! I fucking hate you and everything about you. I wish to choke your hopes and dreams on my smelly urine and then defecate all over your bedding with several gallons of the foulest, bloodiest diarrhea excretable, you godforsaken cock mongrel.” Alternatively, you might be saying, “Hahahaha, whooooooooooeeeeeee! Fuckkkkkk….beer’s SO good. Shake the snake. Shake the snake! Aawwwww the snake’s wet.” [sniffle]

Either way, this is a stark contrast to today’s standard form of retribution, which basically says: “You hurt my feelings because I’m a little baby. Also, I think I can make some money off of you. I’ve got this lawyer here to help me because there are too many lawyers in the world and he couldn’t get a job doing anything actually worthwhile.”

Now, nearly everyone must realize that urination is not exactly the most Viking form of revenge. Vikings were known for killing each other to get even, but that system of retribution ran the adverse risk of escalating into a full-blown family feud with the mass murdering of entire families at stake, if not successfully settled by the Althing (Njal’s Saga, anyone?). Not one of the many aspects of medieval Norse society that I would condone if brought back to the present day. But urination is an effective way to degrade your enemies and only runs the risk of a fine and possibly getting beat up if you piss on the stuff of someone who is bigger than you. And the modern Vikings would approve.

Take Björn Svensson, for example. That guy became renowned during the Modern Viking Movement for the extravagance with which he pissed upon his enemies. Never before had the insulting gesture of public urination been referred to as “the poetry of the bladder, timeless and evocative…an enduring testament to the spirit of human waste.” (Svenska Nya Tidning). Such genius as Svensson’s should be an inspiration to us all.

While I could never hope to live up to the artistic standards set forth by Svensson, I’d still like to try my hand at whipping it out and going nuts down at the office because offices are soulless places deserving of urinary degradation. I’d streak down the hallways splashing my yellow juice on the walls, the crappy cubicle fabric soaking it right up. Then I’d stop at the printers and saturate their electronic components so thoroughly that no repairman would ever be able to salvage them, no matter how many times per week he visits. In fact, I’d probably still be standing there, trying to squirt the last few drops of pee out onto the printer’s ink cartridge when I’d finally get accosted and escorted out of the building and denied my last paycheck. But at least I’d have gone down in a blaze of glory, and that would help my injured pride.

Here are some other things that I think would make good urination targets:

—The license plates of asshole drivers. Better yet, the driver’s seat and steering wheel if the asshole leaves the car unlocked. Or pump his/her gas tank with some very low octane, 100% organic biofuel.

—The ghost-written bile released under the names Paris Hilton, Nicole Richie, Britney Spears, etc.

—Anywhere on the ground, if you’re on the roof of a building.

—Anyone who works, has ever worked, or ever will work in human resources.

And now, last but not least, a special note for the ladies: I’ve heard that funnels with hoses work wonders.*


*For an alternative female technique, watch The Full Monty. I don’t have the slightest idea of how that works, but it’s damn impressive.


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