I have to pee. I have to pee. But the episode on this DVD is almost over. Then I will pee.
To pee or not to pee… that is a problem…
Whether ‘tis better in the pants to suffer the slings and arrows of soaking undies,
Or to take leave of present task and pee a sea of withheld urine,
And by relieving stressed bladder, to faint, to sleep in sloppy puddle,
No more; and by a sleep I imply face down, as though drunk,
The Bladder-ache, and thousand almost drips that this swollen bladder is heir to!
This shall be an explosion, Devoutly not to be wish for.
To Pee to sleep, to perchance not sleep in one’s own urine, Aye maybe you’ll make it to the tub.
For in that gallon or so of pee, what embarrassment may come?
Perchance to make it to the potted fern or fluffy’s litter box, and hope the carpet not to soil,
We must not give pause, there can only be haste
So only this calamity of so long held urine not spill upon the floor,
For who will bear the whips and scorns of shame and not bear false witness on thy canine?
This pressure so wrong, this proud man’s impending incontinence?
The insolence of peeing in the office, the neighbors couch or all over sleeping felines beside you!
This patient bladder and the unworthy pressure it takes,
Where you yourself so risk a huge mess to make,
With bare bodkin? What’s a bodkin?
Is it the same as a butt or bum? No matter- Who would Fardels bear…
What is a Fardels bear? Oh, cruel hallucinations…
You grunt and sweat under heavy,weary bladder,
But that dread of something after this small death,
The undiscovered country, from who’s shame no traveller returns,
Puzzles the will, strains the bladder to see this through,
and makes us rather bear these chills we now have.
Than to fly to other areas we might not make it to, the places to rightly spew forth pee,
Thus the threat of incontinence makes cowards of us all,
And thus the native hue of long stored urine, its sickly dark yellow, with the pale cast of shame,
This enterprise can no longer bear pitch or movement, with this regard all has gone awry…
Now you have lost the name of action, softly the tinkle flows… a rise… a gush…
The fair fluffy… feline on the sofa… forgive me…
Now forever this sin be remembered.
Damn… that was hard to do.
Hope you made it.