just piss in the sink....it's quiet.

Finally someone has had the courage to tackle this problem!! I thought I was the only one tormented in my own little piss hell. I for years have struggled with this issue and have employed a variety of angles and postures to attempt to silence the flow. What I have employed is the introduction of "white noise" during the elimination process. That is to turn on the faucet while "bleeding the weasal" or even flushing while at the same time relieving myself. The latter tactic requires multiple flushes however which upsets our more eco-friendly piddlers.
PS
I too found myself becoming aroused at the mention of your "bulging biceps and sculpted chest",.....but I digress.

I too have often struggled with this issue. To this end, why are bathrooms covered in TILE? I mean, moisture repellent properties notwithstanding, tile is not exactly the most acoustically absorbant surface available. It basically turns the room into an echo chamber. It's not that peeing is inherently loud, it's that any noise it makes is echoed, amplified and redirected by the tiles. As to the water repellent issue - do you really have to tile the WHOLE BATHROOM? Are people who do this afraid guests will miss and hit the wall two inches from the ceiling?

I'm not sure i understand the Michael Jackson theme.

girls can't really pee quietly on purpose. sometimes, it just comes out really cleanly and perpendicular to the water's surface and makes no sound. although, if there is already toilet paper in the toilet, and you pee on it, that muffles a lot of the sound. honestly, i never really found peeing noises embarrassing though.

oh no? then why did you submit that anonymously?

Pissing sound, mine or someone elses, never really bothers me. What does freak me out is hearing someone have a "BM from Hell" All that tile in public restrooms can make a simple fart sound like a shotgun blast.

i dont really see the problem with hearing people pee. hell i pee in front of my boyfriend it doesnt bother me! and sometimes if the tv is off i can hear him pee and i dont care, its just pee.

lmfao @ zeek, " All that tile in public restrooms can make a simple fart sound like a shotgun blast."

once I went to a friend's place for the first time and I so had to pee :P his place was pretty quiet and I couldn't pee until he turned on some music aahahaha... :P stage fright? ahaha

I knew a girl once who hated pissing around people cause it' loud. I want to contact gun manufacturers and have them come up with a "silencer" for the dong water cooled aluminum with 30db noise reduction, that would be nice, unless... silencers screw on, nevermind!

Oh yeah, michael Jackson??? Ok thats just wierd!

just do what we do in pakistan when we need to quietly pee-pee. sit down like a girly and aim your pecker just under the rim. no splash, no noise. sometimes you must watch out for a bit of a ricochet though.
long live allah pee pee!

Just piss while the sink water is running, and try not to fart when you pissing cause that makes it worse, also, what happens, when you really got to shit? thats really loud!

thanks to an MIT class called creative problem solving, i have learned to just sit down. This decreases the altitude and allows an easy porcelain angle. done deal.

Wheres joe???? his nuts are huge

I luv shit

Just peee in the sink. Its quiet and you should not have any problems missing unless your pecker is too small. Dont forget to run a little water afterwards, and dont leave any yellow droplets on the basin. I did it all the time when I was first dating my girlfriend.

Im sorry, I thought this was a poop site?

I like hearing my dates taking a piss. I figure that if he can pee with that much force he must be strong.

what the heck! go to a pee site and tell that story this is supposed to be about poop.

PEE SITTING DOWN YOU IDIOT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

PEE SITTIGN DOWN ISFOR GIRLS.

I pee sitting down!

u asshole

Hey! I'm a girl and I pee standing up!

I've also been accused of having "loud pee".

i've been peeing in sinks for a while now for the exact reason why this post/thread exists.. i'm pretty much addicted to peeing in the sink. it is such a habit, i did it at work and someone walked in. i had to pretend i was buttoning up in front of the mirror....!!!

I can't stand hearing people pee it just sounds so weird when its not you.

Just sit down if you dont want to make any noise. Why waste your time aiming and calculating your tregectory... its so much faster to sit down piss, and leave. When you get home then you can stand all you want.

Pee outside in the bushes and no one can hear u there. Thats what I did and no one found out no even my friends. Plus I pee very loud!

hey i have a peeing addiction i drink alot just so i can pee.. i pee standing up coz it relaxes me (im a female) and no i dont need 1 of those silly things 2 make me pee standing up i only use myself.. i pee in the shower i pee on things.. i aim at things and piss everywhere if im home alone.. i search google for pictures of guys pissing it just tunrs me on.. IM ADDICTED TO PISS!

how do girls piss standing up?

Not only is it more quiet to pee while sitting down, men, it also serves the function of keeping the bathroom cleaner longer. Guys have this tendency to miss, and even when the aim is true, lots of micro-splashes ricochet out from the toilet and onto all adjacent surfaces. This leads to smelling and fouling things up... and the need to wash the floor more often. The only thing on the floor around the toilet should be dust. So, please, sit down.

I'm the Pee-Pee Ninja.
I'm mastered the art of silence peeing
It's like having a built-in laser aiming mechanism.
except when I'm drunk, I don't care a crap about it, and make as much noise as I can.... it's that, or splashing all around :)

Peeing sitting down has not helped me. It is still loud even when I am "peeing like a girl should". Since I have been accused of having loud pee I try to see how loud I can get it.

you know, sometimes i pee really loud (usually alcohol induced, or after holding it for longer than normal), and sometimes i can't hear it all, even though i know there's stuff coming out. and i know i don't do anything different, at least not on purpose. i wonder why that happens?

Now that I think about it, I've never really cared whether or not people heard me pee. I just go.
TSV, how the hell do you manage to pee standing up? Do you take your pants and panties completely off to stand over the toilet? I'm having a hard time figuring this out. Unless you're a guy... then I'm sorry for assuming you were female.

My enormous penis cant handle sitting down to pee.
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That picture is wrong.

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she is a girl, and i don't know what her technique is, but i've seen a picture of a girl peeing standing up in a porn mag. it looked like she was doing it by using her index and middle fingers to pull the outer skin of her vagina upward, directing the pee flow out instead of down. for some reason i've never tried it, but damn it, i'm going to now! well, not right now. i'll probably wait until my next shower.

Jeez, Dave, you missed a perfect opportunity to introduce your "sweetie" to the power of your ass! If anyone had actually felt the need to mention that they could hear me, aside from the old " turn off the damn firehose!" comments, I'd be sure to fart as loudly as possible the next time! "did you hear THAT, honey??"

Oh ,and TSV, thanks for the interesting visual!

Wonderpance, that sounds like too much trouble. We need to pull our pants down anyways, so we might as well sit and be comfy.
That's how I see it, anyways. :)

Your welcome, Stinky Pete.

Wonderpance and Fart Poopie, it is not that hard to do, and no, I don't take my pants completely off to pee standing up. I just lean my ass over the toilet and let go. Since I hurt my back I haven't been doing it that much recently, but when I'm in a hurry it saves a lot of time.

Besides, when my dad is here he leaves this gross sticky ass gel all over the toilet seat and I don't want to sit in it. Half the time by the time I get to the bathroom I don't want to take the time to wipe it off, so I just go this way. Once you master it, you to can have loud pee and you won't get droplets all over the toilet seat when you do it.

when i take a shit. my duck hits the water sometimes.

What, does your duck go diving in after your shit?

Once at a girl's house on a 2nd or 3rd date, I knelt down to pee in the toilet, hoping to go unheard. The little fella was terrified, thinking it was being laid out on a porcelain chopping block.

Awww, Logjam, your poor duck.

I find it rather creepy in the original story that Dave chose to nickname his girlfriend "Michael Jackson."

"When water falls on water,
It makes a sound that all can hear;
But when it's sprayed on porcelain,
It falls silent to the ear."

Dumpster, you put it exactly right.

As you can see from my 01.03.2006 unverified post above, this was the very first thing I ever read on this site. The funniest thing in this whole thread is donicker's first comment.

Also, I'm hoping that by next time I come back here (if I do), the perv who posted right above this will have been flushed.

Dave, I, too have a bulging chest. Mine just bulges a little further down.

I DIDN'T MEAN YOU, KOC!!!

The PR moderators are so on the ball that the perv comment I referred to earlier was gone by the time I was able to reboot this post. So, that leaves it looking like I'm calling my good friend and fellow lyricist KOC a perv.

Let the word go forth from this time and place: I do not think KOC is a perv. He may not have all four wheels on the ground sometimes, but he is basically your regular shitulatory guy.

No, I can attest to the fact that I deleted a comment. I must confess that I approved it earlier. I think I'm getting desensitized to crappy posts. Someone smack me.

Dave, just real out a bit more of your python. When the head dips in the water, nobody will hear you peeing.

Loud piss? Just sit and pee. No noise.

sink all the way..
'LMAO' to some of the posts..(y)

So the origional issue was never resolved???

I don't know which is more disturbing. The topic, or the chosen name of Dave's fantasy girl...

Not sure why some are getting wound up about a thread on peeing. It may not be to do with poop, but its to do with toilets, so its at least connected.

Neither can I see why peeing noise is an issue. Why do we go to the toilet? To pee and shit. Sometimes it makes a noise! So what? We all do it. Big deal!

How do girls pee standing up?I've tried it and I had to take my underwear and trousers AND my shoes off.I pee really loud and it makes a sound you can hear 2 rooms away.

Dave, I'm a little creeped out. When you pulled up to your girlfriends house, were there some "Hotwheels" parked in it?

You named your girl Michael Jackson? Was it her nose? Her blanched white skin? Did she sing like him? Hmmmmm interesting name.
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The Thunderous Crapper 63 Enjoying home toilet advantage since 2004!

have you ever tried to overcome the issue of loud pee by ust thinking, ok ill pee really really fast and it will all be over, hereby avoiding the long drawn out pee sound?

dont do it!! my friend and i were sharing on this, and we realised via personal experiance, if u do that, you put so much effort into peeing quickly that in the force and rush you will most likely let out a little fart at the end... not a silent one, but one that has alot of force behind it.

or the opposite

or, have you tried to pee slowly... and you end up stopping and starting and anyone whos listening thinks youve got a urinal infection? all these things run through your mind, peein is so complicated. why dont we just all wear tena lady and do it like the old people do?!

So much to think about ineed.... I will not know what to do next time I head to the restroom (or the opposite). I'm especially worried about my urinal getting infected.

Urinal infections are the worst....no mere penicillin for that shit...gotta go with the heavy duty anti-biotics, and bleach, lots of bleach...

But what do you do, Bidge, to bring its fever down? Last time the poor thing was just burning up. I'd spend about an hour in the fridge and then go pee on it, but that didn't seem to help much.

What has worked for me, in these situations, is to swallow several dry ice cubes, and iced tea...as many glasses as possible, and then try to hose down the urinal. Follow that immediately with ice packs near the valve area, and down around the trap. Freezing urinal cakes and tossing them in will help a little, as well.

OK, that sounds like a plan. I should admit, though, that it was kind of nice standing in front of the warm urinal; no shock either when, like always, I rested my dick on the bottom rim. But I do realize that this was irresponsible -- that I was taking advantage of it and that if daphne ever found out, she'd of given me the what for again.

Again? she's given what for before? Gosh, you're lucky, she has never given me what for before.

Yes. And when she did it, she whispered "please don't let the cat out of the bag." She says and does a lot of things that I just don't understand. But I figure, why ask questions?

She gave you what for and talked about cats and bags?!?!? I am so green with envy...and at the same time so happy for you, it couldn't happen to nicer fella.

I'm glad you guys are on top of things as usual. Searching for alternative cures for urinal infections seems sound to me. The alternative is tough. Those penicillin needles are always hard to administer.

....outside the Jam residence.....

BANG BANG BANG

"Yes?"

"Sir, please sign here."

"What's this? It's from Washington state? I didn't order anything from Washington state. Why is this package growling?"

"It's content description is right there.....look......no, that's my thumb. Yes. It's a WhatFor. And a good one, too. It's the XP edition. It comes with its own YouKnowWhat supplemental add-ons."

"Oh, I see! Yes. Where do I sign again?"

"Here, under the stain. I think it's icing."

"Yeah, that's daphne alright."

"Thanks. Have a nice day. Don't open that thing unless you're in a locked room, the federal restrictions and all."

"Yesyes, federal restrictions. What kind of fool do you take me for?"

.....door shuts

_______
.....hugging bunnies since 1969
www.daphneszoo.com

LJ set the package just inside the door and ran back up the stairs to the full toilet he had abandoned. Dropping his pants, he finished wiping himself and flushed. Then it was through the house with the shitrag to wipe all the doorknobs between the bathroom and the front door. Keeping a clean house was something he’d learned from his mother.

The package had been a surprise. Daphne had not returned a call or answered a letter ever since the incident with the flashlight and pesto. Perhaps she’d put that behind her once her hair had grown back, just as LJ had promised it would.

Though the package said that it contained a what-for, he couldn’t be certain; daphne was known for her little deceptions and mind games. And the icing somehow looked atypical, forced. To be safe, he took it out to the garage and put it in the large meat locker. Then it was off to the kitchen to make up a new batch of pesto while he thought things over. Life had certainly gotten complicated since he’d steamed the wallpaper off the dining room walls.

The dripping from the sink faucet echoed through the house. "Drip, drip, drip, hehehehehe." If one looked close enough at the pile of newspapers in the corner, the outline of a tremendously sticky, fat woman was evident. Icing dripped from her nose.

"Drip, drip, drip."

In what was left of her mind, daphne decided that Logjam must have gotten her package by then. She mused about the WhatFor while twisting burnt, broken strands of hair around her right middle finger. It was now almost long enough to go around once - she was only bald in two or three major spots.

Candles flickered dimly on the kitchen counter; she was unable to bring herself to use real lights ever since the Flashlight Incident. Pool and pools of old wax ran over the edge in cicles that were now close to reaching the stained carpet on the floor. She was going to have to do something about that soon.....

Shadows created by the candles bounced off the pile of human bones in the opposite corner of the dining room. The WhatFor had fed well during its infancy and had made sure to leave the furry costumes of its victims intact and unchewed. It would surely have an appetite after hatching from its chrysalis.

All there was left to do was wait.

_______
.....hugging bunnies since 1969
www.daphneszoo.com

The package had scared him, yes, but also got him to missing daphne, at least the daphne he had met in what seemed now a different lifetime.

Alone in his den, he turned to the first page of their photo album. It had been a tough day at work, and his feet were only now starting to relax, bathing as they were in the fresh pot of pesto. Hopefully, it would still be warm when he got around to dinner.

This was his favorite picture of them, together in Fiji where they first met. Young, both of them, each with a bottle in hand, raising it high overhead. They had both been collectors as children. He’d gone through a typical male progression of stamps, rocks, baseball cards, Nazi war paraphernalia, and pornography; and she’d followed a typical female trajectory: stamps, coins (pennies really) commemorative spoons, Barbies, Starsky and Hutch posters.

So it seemed like destiny that they would happen upon one another in Fiji. He was walking down a back road, both arms laced around a shovel he was wearing like a yoke, when he saw her. Waist deep in the hole she’d dug, muddy sweat dripping down her face and off the end of her nose. He’d never seen anything more beautiful. So they dug together for awhile, sharing their knowledge of antique bottles. A passing stranger agreed to take this photo of them, holding aloft samples from that day’s booty.

They decided to join forces, traveling together through another six counties, searching out abandoned dumps and digging them out for the treasures they contained. By the end, they had planned out the house they would build together, entirely out of bottles they had dug.

Hearing something outside, LJ put the album aside and walked to the back door. The trail of pesto prints he’d have to deal with later.

The door to the meat locker was ajar, which wasn’t that unusual. A neighborhood furry gang conducted frequent raids, making off with pawfuls of Daphne beef jerky. (LJ called it “Daphne jerky” because the special marinade he used was made entirely with organically-grown vegetable products.)

He eased the door open. Like jigsaw pieces dumped from the box, the scene was a jumble requiring effort to mentally piece together. Daphne’s package lay ripped apart on the floor. Beside it was a still-expanding pool of blood at the center of which stood a pair of laced-up Nikes. Off to the other side, a limp and befouled chipmunk suit. And plastered on one wall was 30 kilos of shit. “God,” he thought when he finally understood. “I hope it wasn’t that little Kintner boy.”

Sensing that the what-for had fled the locker, LJ yanked the door shut and engaged the deadbolt. The stench of shit mixed with the raw essence of frozen meat and blood hit him with a thud. Knees weak, he leaned back against a side of beef and began talking to himself, rehearsing all he knew about what-fors.

It had been six years since he encountered his last one. Part moth, part piranha, Daphne had raised them in their house of bottles. At peak production, each bottle had been home to half a dozen little what-fors. A remarkable creation, they went through male human flesh like a chain saw, spewing out a rooster-tail of feces behind them. They could transform a grown man into a pile of shit in seconds, which is why Daphne had been drawn to them. The only thing that would keep them off male flesh? Pesto. For the moment, LJ’s feet up to his ankles were safe.

He dug his cell out of his pocket and scrolled to her number. His thumb hovered for several seconds, till finally he reasoned that he had little to loose.

Ring. Ring. Click.

“Hello? . . . Daphne?”

.....ring ring ring ring

"Drip drip. Hehehehehe."

Logjam slowly hung up the phone. It had happened. The crazy bitch had finally lost her marbles, every last one. He had feared it would happen, but not at this oh-so-crucial time.

From the beginning, she had taught the little WhatFors to listen to 4 or 5 basic, various commands. Every one of them could tie a square knot, uncork a bottle of champagne, figure out the WHIP of any major league pitcher, make crumpets, and last, but not least, clip their own toenails (everyone knows that WhatFors don't like their feet being touched). However, during their last summer together, she had also started dabbling with the "off" command. He smiled wanly - the image of small children running errantly, screaming in terror because Zibblet, her favorite WhatFor, had mistaken their Elmo pinata for a light snack, bounced before his closed eyelids.

It wasn't easy to keep a straight face when he had to explain to the village that they had narrowly escaped a slow and painful death (Daphne had left the cage door open after yet another night of marinating herself in expensive bourbon and cheap suits - she loved harassing the local missionaries). He had found her passed out under the hut they shared cradling a half-empty bottle of Elijah Craig and a recently-soiled and sullied Jehovah's Witness that suspiciously resembled Carrot Top just in time.

"Get up you cankered sow!" He screamed in fear as the WhatFor ate the last piece of candy and eyed him up.

"Huh, wuzzat?"

"Daphne, the command, THE COMMAND! TELL ZIBBLET TO BACK OFF!"

"Oh." burp "Right." She steadied herself while rubbing her eyes and muttered, "Popcornfarts."

The WhatFor came over and sat down on its tail, covered in colored sugar.

Only, now Logjam could not remember the correct command. Sweat slowly made its way down his temples. He licked his lips in frustration, canvassing the room with his eyes, looking for any movement at all, hoping for time to remember what she had said on that one, warm, Saturday afternoon.

Paper crinkled behind him.

_______
.....hugging bunnies since 1969
www.daphneszoo.com

As he turned toward the sure sound of death that issued from behind the fat vats, LJ thought to himself, “Big help that Daphne was. Looks like I’m going to have to handle this myself.” And during the flashbacks that surely marked these as his last breaths, it dawned on him that that was the way most evenings together with Daphne had worked out. With a new-found sense of resignment and closure, he walked with Bushesque determination around the towering tubs of lard to face his destiny.

The WhatFor now stood 7 feet tall, a hairy mountain of muscles and horns. Its fangs were the size of Doritos; it had a tattoo of Morton Downey Jr. on its buttocks.

Never a cowardly man, Logam decided to go out as he had lived, with no apologies. He approached the WhatFor with a purpose. They regarded each other, snacker and snack. Time stood still.

The WhatFor extended its right arm, reaching towards Logjam's face. As it did so, Logjam closed his eyes and awaited the death blow, but it never came.

plink.

Something had lightly tapped him on the nose. When Logjam opened his eyes, he was mere centimeters away from the largest pointer finger that he'd ever seen.

Then, the WhatFor growled 5 words, barely recognizable but unmistakable nonetheless.

"Tag. You're It. April Fool's"

At this point, Logjam crapped his pants in relief. That fucking Daphne.

_______
.....hugging bunnies since 1969
www.daphneszoo.com

That would have been a great ending to this story. In LJ’s dreams, Daphne was always the playful imp he first met in Fiji.

But as from his dreams, Logjam returned to consciousness this day to the world as it was before he “dozed off,” dozed off thanks to a crack in the head from a shovel administered by one of the terrified accomplices of the Kintner boy.

Fearing the what-for was still in the locker, LJ coaxed the two furries outside and stood guard while they scurried for safety, heads tucked under their arms and little tails fluttering to and fro.

Just as they dissappeared over the hill, LJ heard the what-for’s distinctive squeal. He turned to spot the little hellion as it started its nose-dive from about 200 feet above the house. Logjam began hollering phrases, searching among Daphne’s numerous pet sayings for the one that would abort the attack.

“EAT BETTY’S ICING … uh, uh, GROPE CAROT TOP’S BOTTOM … um, um, DRINK ELIJAH CRAIG … oh fuck, WHIP ROGER CLEMENS.”

At hearing the last phrase, the what-for pulled back into a hover just 4 feet above LJ’s head. It was clearly concentrating on the computation of Roger’s ratio, and pleased to be of help, when LJ walloped it with the shovel he’d been holding at the ready. Blood, teeth, and bones arced upwards like the Challenger explosion, parts large and small following unique, but ultimately determined, paths as gravity took over where life had left off.

Exhausted, LJ was nearly at the back door when he heard another sound coming up from behind him, the blood-chilling screech growing louder with alarming speed. He didn’t even bother turning around -- just shook his head. Of course there would be another one, he thought. Daphne would never leave an animal without company.

The what-for dove down LJ’s shirt through the neck, and circled his abdomen two or three times before getting down to business. Like the mark of a carving ski on snow, the initial gouge was executed with patience and artistry such that in one second, LJ experienced every sensation between gentle tickle and excruciating pain. He now finally could perceive them as a continuum of the same sensation.

Had there been someone there to observe the happenings of the next 5 seconds, the events would have been incomprehensible. Nothing seems magical about an oak tree being fed into a large chipper and coming out the other end as sawdust: one big thing can quickly become numerous small things. But our minds cannot grasp that same simple principle when applied to ourselves.

However, an observer would have been even more clueless about what LJ actually experienced in those last moments. Because no sooner had his nerves registered the pain, than the pain fell away entirely. And with the pain, any sense of horror or of time.

The night sky was clear, and the stars particularly bright. As he looked up towards the Milky Way, he marveled at the idea of his own consciousness. Somehow, the universe had brought forth a special configuration that could gain enough distance and independence to finally observe and reflect on itself. The stars were looking at themselves! How could that even be? And from that realization, LJ saw all the events and people of his life as of a piece, with no particular purpose and, for that very reason, profoundly beautiful.

These were his thoughts as the universe took its tail in its mouth and transformed Logjam into a pile of shit. A beautiful pile of shit.

This may have been my favorite comment thread ever. Well done, Mr. Jam.

_______
.....hugging bunnies since 1969
www.daphneszoo.com