Latest Entry
My Music
Email me
Help Justin

the HTs
Eating Hair
War On Moths
Free HT pics!
Taco Bell
Video Giveaway
Twin Towers Necklace
Pee Cannon Video
Big Cock Bible

Older Entries

2003-02-22 10:51 a.m.

The range of human urine is between 5.0 and 8.0. 7.0 is neutral. Below 7 is acid and above 7 is considered alkaline or basic. The pH of my urine has been especially high today—an average of 6.2! Normally my urine falls in the 5.0-5.3 range, so I am happy to be moving up in the alkaline direction.

I get an almost twisted sexual pleasure from carrying the pH meter in my pocket and testing anything I can get my hands on—especially my urine. I wonder if people notice that I carry a cup with me when I walk into the stall or up to the urinal in public restrooms.

A few days ago I started to feel guilty about using a new cup each time. I didn't want to be wasteful and fill our landfills with used cups. So, I got one white styrofoam cup which I have been keeping with me on my desk at work—I reuse it. I wrote "pH testing" on the side with a marker. That way I can differentiate between my special cup and the white styrofoam cups that many employees at my job are using at any given moment to drink out of. I guess it might be a little awkward if I were to piss in one of their cups. Unless it was while they were holding it—just about to take a sip of coffee or lemonade—in which case it would be hilarious.

I can see it now, a bunch of serious work people all sitting around a conference table, drinking from their white cups and chatting about how software and network gaming and stock reports give them raging boners. They wouldn't even notice me standing on the table with my pants and underwear crumpled around my ankles.

I would start to pee, turning around in circles faster and faster as the flow of my urine stream got stronger and stronger. Once centrifugal force had taken the wheel and I no longer need my hands to aim, I would alternate between pounding my chest like Tarzan and sticking my fists up into the air, pretending to fly like Superman. Soon I would be spinning around like a whirling dervish—my penis shooting forth hot frothy pee like a garden weasel run wild until all their cups were filled.

Ah, what a refreshing daydream.

At one point today I had a bit of an accident during some of my stupid restroom piss science. I was at work and needed to pee—not strange considering that I drink over a gallon of iced tea each day. So I saddled on up to the urinal. As always, I had the trusty pH meter with me in my pants pocket, like a gun in a saddle, ready for quick–draw measurements. But, I forgot my styrofoam cup.

I didn't want to miss the chance to measure this pee. But, there was no way I could hold it in long enough to walk back to my office. Then I remembered that the little black cover from the pH meter also serves as a sort of container—albeit a small and very awkward one.

So, I tried to get a midstream sample into the little black plastic cap. Looking back at the moment I clearly see this whole endeavor required having a few more hands than I actually had: I needed to hold my penis, maneuver the little plastic cap, put the cup down after filling it, keep my pants from falling down, and keep from urinating on myself.

Ah, but damn not having a piss science assistant! Damn not being an octopus! This time my meager two hands were clearly not enough. Certain steps got executed as planned. For example, I successfully retrieved a urine sample and sat it on top of the porcelain urinal—I would test it once I was done peeing. And I kept my pants from falling down.

But, some steps didn't really get taken care of. Basically I neglected all the pertinent fluid dynamics involved in not pissing myself. I had careleslly sprayed about a cup of piss all over my left leg and foot. My left shoe and lower left pant leg were soaked.

Now, this was the most I had ever accidentally urinated on my clothes, so I was surprised at how much I wasn't even worried about it. I found myself unfazed thinking, oh well. But, there probably was not any reason to get worked up anyway.

I mean, what is the worst thing that would have happened? Someone would have thought I was inept, unable to operate my own penis and therefore had pissed on myself. What's the harm in that? I mean, they would have been right, after all! That didn't seem so bad. The pants were black, so I doubt anyone would have even noticed anyway. In a way, it felt kind of cool and funny in an indulgent way—like having a vibrating lube–filled codpiece on under your business suit or wearing a butt–plug to church. I felt like an undercover piss spy!

In the future I think they key to remember is to only get urine specimens while sitting. As funny as it is, taking samples while standing at a urinal is too precarious and risky. Sure, pissing on myself from time to time is hilarious (or at least I think so). But, if it starts to happen every day I think it will be a problem and may even develop into a dangerous habit. Plus, I don't want to have to wash my clothes any more than I already do.