For the past two years, I’ve battled a violent and horribly painful, physical affliction. This bastard of a sickness is commonly referred to as, kidney stones. Kidney Stones are basically tiny pellets of death that form in your kidney and then make their way towards your bladder. While traveling through your ureter, they cause your body a very distinct and unpleasant sensation. This feeling is comparable to being eaten alive by a pack of lions while simultaneously being doused in human shit. Since I kept getting these little faggot rocks, my doctor decided that the time had come to end this streak of unfathomable pain. In order to determine the cause of my kidney stones, my urologist prescribed a 48-hour urine test. This meant I had to piss into two large, orange jugs for 2 straight days. This is a story about my piss buckets.
I was all for putting an end to my frequent visits to the emergency room, but following through with this piss test would leave me confined to my apartment for an entire weekend. The entire notion of it all was balls, but I had no choice in the matter. Resigning to defeat I began pissing in my jugs like a little doctor abiding asshole. Every fifteen minutes or so, I was forced to extract my tiny meat kebob and carefully milk it into my Piss Buckets. As my stream of urine echoed off of the deep plastic walls of the container, a profound sense of humiliation set in. I was a fool. A freak, caged by his own bodily fluids.
Then suddenly it hit me. I was going to overcome this seemingly inescapable house arrest. I dashed to my front door and began lacing up my shoes, when my girlfriend interrupted. “Where are you going?” she asked. With an overly confident smirk that probably resembled Tom Cruise’s mysterious gaze in ‘Risky Business,’ I said, “Going skating.” Appearing shocked and almost appalled, she responded, “With who….?” But before she could finish her inquiry, I sharply declared, “Piss! I’m going skating with my Piss Buckets!” With my two piss-filled containers in hand, I pushed down the street. I felt proud, realizing that in my hands were not only legitimate scientific specimens, they were now my two loyal skate companions.
I was beginning to doubt my skate mission on account of the sub-zero wind-chill. Then my friend called. He invited me to a private indoor park behind the KC/DC skateshop in Brooklyn. Needless to say, it was on. But before I hopped on the subway, I had to take a leak. I pressed against a buildings side and unleashed my stinky juice into the less heavy of the two jugs. I could feel the weight of my piss move from side to side as I tried to steady the container. I could tell they that my piss was eager to shred. Before I continued, I knelt down and gently spoke to my boys. “Easy fellas. We’ll be ripping that park in no time,” I said like a sympathetic foster father. I think my Piss Buckets understood.
When I arrived to the park, there was nobody there. With the entire spot to ourselves, my Piss Buckets and I got down to business. I set one jug under a knee-high box and the other below a flatbar. I wanted my piss to be closer to my joy as I skated with it. My experience that followed was glorious. After landing a bunch of tricks, I swear I that could hear my two boy’s holler’in for me. I responded by giving them each pounds, followed by traditional thug-hugs. Then, to celebrate our awesome time together, I picked up both jugs and skated them around the park. I felt like a champion figure skater, high on my co-performers companionship. Carefully I hoisted my two jugs of piss high above my head. I was certain that only angels could have felt this sort of exhilaration. After our whirl around the course, I found a corner and urinated a little into both jugs as to say, “I love you both incredibly.”
Soon the front door opened. I immediately was concerned about how outsiders might take to my containers. The last thing I was about to have go down was any sort of playa hating on my piss. But to my surprise, we all skated together, minus any sort of vibing. My friend Billy Rohan approached me and politely asked if he could take my Piss Buckets for a spin. I was flattered until Billy began doing tricks that were far better and smoother than anything I had ever landed in my life. I quickly became jealous. What if my urine realized that Billy was a pro skater and began to like skating with him better? I couple other guys took turns doing some tricks over my piss when I decided that enough was enough. You can hijack my thunder, you can punch me in the nuts, but I’ll goddamned if you think you can fuck with my Piss Buckets!
I exited the park slightly upset and headed home. When I walked into my front door, I was greeted by my girlfriend. “How was skating with your pee?” I locked eyes with her and indifferently spoke, “Alright.” I rushed to the bathroom and tinkled equally into both jugs. When I finished I picked them both up by their handles and whispered, “Don’t worry guys, I’m not mad at you.” I tenderly kissed each jug, smiled and said, “Good night my sweet piss.”