Urinal Cakes and Modern Technology

Glenda was about to open the door and put an end to the matter, so I ignored him, that is, until my grade six class picture appeared in my mind like it sometimes did when I found myself in the presence of a camera. I was eleven years old, sticking my tongue out at the photographer’s flashbulb because of a dare. A second picture was not taken, so either the photographer didn’t see it happen, or he let it go. Perhaps he was a bit of a madcap himself and he appreciated my efforts. Or maybe he thought he would teach me a lesson. If that was the case, then he didn’t read the room, as it were, because my stuck-out tongue and my wide maniacal eyes (preserved for all posterity) afforded me a positive valence that translated into cool kid status. Overnight, I became an object of infatuation, mostly for the gay boys, the majority of whom didn’t yet know they were gay, except for Warren Silver, who followed me into the bathroom not long after the picture was taken. While standing shoulder to shoulder facing the tiled wall, he asked me if I wanted to watch him masturbate. He was going through puberty and was now able to “cum,” he said. I didn’t know what the hell cumming was, so I agreed to watch him, and thirty seconds later the urinal cake was glazed in white icing. Then he wanted to watch me do it, but I hadn’t hit puberty, nor was I willing to show him my uncircumcised penis, which embarrassed me to no end, for what reason I don’t remember. However, I’ll always remember my stuck-out tongue and my wide maniacal eyes as being the face of a persona that was wonderfully liberating while it lasted. For example, I wasn’t known to participate in classroom discussions, yet there I was living up to my new reputation as a fearless challenger of the status-quo—raising my hand and voice, asking tough questions, speaking truth to power. In history class, I asked the teacher if the red on the Canadian flag was symbolic of Indian blood. In math class, after learning about Pythagoras, I questioned if it was wise to use modern technology as proof that modern humans are smarter than their progenitors. Unfortunately, a few months after delivering my grade eight valedictorian speech, I entered the savage crucible of high school, and slid back into my constrained ways.

3 thoughts on “Urinal Cakes and Modern Technology

  1. Hi A.,

    The great thing about THs is you learn from almost every post. For example, I never knew that waxy thing was called the urinal puck. Wait, is this just a Canadian thing or is it universal? Google will tell me (that platform of insecurity) and there are so many choices: colors of urinal cakes,can you apply a urinal block deodorizer to your arm pits, should you eat urinal blocks, should you pee on a urinal puck, who came up with the name for a urinal cake, what happens in your stomach if you eat a urinal cake … who the fuck knew there was this twisting world of urinal puck issues? I didn’t, so thanks A. for your post, not to mention it was otherwise interesting with all the jack-off talk and cumming into the urinal and the description of what happens to cum when it hits the porcelain. Growing up is one long masturbational lesson for both sexes … oh youth, pass the bottle. Thanks. Duke

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I made use of the cake metaphor. Thanks.

    Joni made the transition into jazz during the seventies and started hanging out with Pat Metheny, and some of the other jazz fusion originators. It’s good stuff, albeit dated sounding due to production choices mostly. Not many artists have the balls to risk alienating their fan base like that. Of course, her fans were loyal.

    Liked by 1 person

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