Davezilla: Clean Humor, Filthy Comments

I recently had my full physical examination from the doctor. All is well, although one comment from the nurse threw me a little. “We need a urine sample. Take this cup to the bathroom and hold it under the urine stream.” Had she used ‘your’ in place of ‘the’, I might not had noticed.

As a result, while I peed, I imagined being under the urine stream as a happy place, a fairytale land with dew-lit butterflies and gamboling elves. Perhaps even a poem. Under the Urine Stream, by Walt Whitman. Rime of the Ancient Uriner, by Coleridge.

And why must it be a stream? What if you had a raging urine river? Here’s some other titles I thought up as I held my cup under the urine stream.

1. The Babbling Urine Brook
2. Noah’s Ark and the Urine Flood
3. A Tribute to the Urine Tributary
4. The Quiet Urine Creek
5. The Urine Well
6. Sailing the Urine Seas
7. The Fountain of Urine
8. Ten Days Alone: Yellow-Water Rafting in Colorado
9. And I cannot resist, On Golden Pond
10. What titles can you come up with?

I ate sushi at Katana in Royal Oak last night. Katana used to be a very trendy spot—almost pickup joint—with beautiful people and even more beautiful waitresses. Granted, I have not eaten there in six months and things seemed to have changed.

At first I thought I was in a Sopranos episode. Every table save mine seemed to be populated by enormous, neckless Italian men with gold chains, striped shirts and ill-fitting jeans. Accompanying each brutish fellow was an over made-up woman with, shall we say, junk in the trunk?

None of this was particularly interesting to me until Lizz pointed out that the men seemed stunned by the knowledge that they would be called upon to use chopsticks. In front of their peers. From our vantage point alone, we observed the following methods for eating sushi:

1. Chopsticks held like drumsticks, one stick in each hand, the sushi roll bounced about as if between Devil Sticks
2. Stabbed like a Shish Kebab
3. Fingers
4. With a fork
5. Stabbed with a steak knife
6. Stolen off the pregnant wife’s plate
7. How have you seen sushi eaten?

C.C.: [Points out car window] “Oh look! An eagle! OMG, it’s totally an eagle!”
Me: “Um, that’s not an eagle. That’s just a crow with a piece of bread in its mouth.”
C.C.: “Uh, huh. You’re right. OK. This does not leave this car.”
Me: “The hell it doesn’t.”
T.T.: “And to think, we get to see it eating its natural prey—bread.”
C.C.: “All right. Enough.”
Me: “You know, eagles developed their keen vision so they could spot wild herds of bread from a mile in the air. Then they swoop down and snatch one before it escapes.”
C.C.: “Enough!”
T.T.: “Bread can be quite wily, I hear.”
Me: “Indeed. Very wily.”
C.C.: “Fuckers.”