Getting in cabs, going to work, taking a shower… These routine activities were a lot harder to do when I had a catheter in my Little Richard. Why? Well, I tore two muscles in my beloved rooster and severed my urethra having casual sex. This is the funny/not-so-funny story of the accident, the recovery, and all the blood, pain, love, and philosophy in between. A score of people helped me pee, including my mother, as I shuffled around New York City tethered to a urination tube for a month. It’s a story about perspective through anecdotes like cross-dressing Halloween costumes, a teenage dowry, and a copious amount of phallic references. I guess it could always be worse. We might as well laugh while we cry, masturbate until it hurts, and realize the truth is ridiculous if we’re brave enough to claim it. Hopefully you want more than this short description but, like my sex life, I’ve finished before you even started.
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