Dear McDonald's

Dear McDonald's,, I owe you an apology.

All I can say is, I had no idea a man could store that much urine. Trying to hold my cock was like hanging on to a raging fire hose. I couldn't keep it straight.

I doused the walls,, the floor,, the door,, the sink,, all of it. After like 10 minutes I'm still pissing strong as before. Stronger actually. I'm panicking.

People are knocking on the door. My phone is ringing. My stomach hurts.

10 more minutes and I'm still going. Can't stop. It's like 4 inches deep on the floor and flooding into the lobby. It was like a warm, yellow Katrina. My new shoes are ruined. My vision is blurry. i hear helicopters overhead.

10 more minutes. Make it stop. My dick is so red and inflamed but it just keeps coming. It's like a broken dam. I can hear babies crying. Gun shots. Is that the news? Oh god who called the news? This has to be a bad dream.

10 more minutes. It's almost up to my knees. Yup,, I'm going blind. I'm getting weaker and weaker as it continues.

10 more minutes. I'm praying to every single God I can think of that they just make this stop.

I'd never been so relieved to hear the sound of the jaws of life. Someone had to break the door down and carry me out like a bride on her wedding day.

There were,boos, there were cheers. In that moment I was no longer a man, but a freakshow for the onlookers to gawk at.

Sorry, I'm getting sidetracked.

Anyway, yeah. My bad.