Next time you see a little dribble of piss on the seat you need to take a step back before you start going at your man's throat.
Ladies, this no easy task.
Yeah, I know it's soooooo hard being a woman. Your little Burger King hands hurt after a long day of dishwashing and sandwich making. Sitting on the couch, watching melodramatic telenovelas with lovely brown chiseled men and eating bonbons looks just brutal.
Oh, and you have to watch the kids all day while us men are out breaking rocks with our bare hands for tiny amounts of money. That sounds tough. It takes almost an entire minute to fire up that 12-hour loop of "Baby shark," and stocking the kids' table full of cheddar cheese crackers.
The struggle is real, or at least you think it is.
Let me tell you about real struggle, something from a man's perspective you just wouldn't understand without a little mansplaining.
Have you ever used a penis to piss?
Didn't think so.
I know, I know. You've been practicing with your "She-wee" all week. You've unloaded that slow babbling brook in between your legs into what is essentially a funnel and you can 360 no scope a toilet from across the map.
Cool story.
The real deal is not so easy.
After we get off of our twenty-hour shifts at the quarry, with bludgeoned hands, and listen to how tough your day was, we try to sleep.
BUT NOOOOO.
We can't sleep because someone has gotten all sexed up after watching Hector's twin surgeon brother flex his 18 pack of shimmering abs on today's soap opera marathon.
I try to tell you I have a headache and all you can reply with is, "MY LIFE IS SO SO SO SO TOUGH. YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND. NOW HAVE SEXUAL INTERCOURSE WITH ME OR ELSE."
So like any other man with a sense of duty, I comply with your demands and fall asleep.
And that's where the problem starts.
The alarm clock for the rock quarry comes early.
"Fuck it's 4:45 am I need to get out the door."
It's not that easy though. I have to take the morning piss, and it's a fucking monster. On the way to the bathroom, I manage to step on 683 legos that weren't mapped out the day before.
I guess you didn't have time to vacuum.
I can barely get my pants down in time then, ready, aim, fire.
Captain there seems to be something in the pipes causing a malfunction. We're unloading on the tile you just grouted last weekend.
Fuck man. I maxed my Home Depot card out on that shit. Navigate 14 degrees to the left and commence the piss.
Captain, it seems as though there has been a shift in the stream and it's now flowing out at a 140-degree angle out of your penis and somehow into the shower.
Be advised, I'm considering a secret mission to continue pissing into the tub, but we need more power for the stream to make it into the drain, as of right now we're only damaging that awful floral print shower curtain.
Captain, we're at full capacity. We haven't had that kind of stream for about ten years now. The equipment has been in rapid decline since your early twenties.
Fuck man, If we don't fix this, I'm going to get bitched at for pissing on the seat. The one that I didn't lift up because I didn't want flak for another instance of the lady "falling in.
Before the troops can respond the stream subsides, the battle is already lost, and you're forty-seven minutes late for work because the morning piss is the longest piss recognized in the civilized world.
On your way out the door, after letting the dogs out, you kiss the children on their foreheads. Just before stepping out the door you hear, "DID YOU PISS ON THE FUCKING SEAT AGAIN?"
We all know what that means. More forced sexual intercourse.
The cycle repeats.
It's hard to be a man. In the comment section below, tell me about your struggles with manhood in a completely accurate fashion as I have done in the depiction above.
