Turning those Golden Showers into Big, Big Dollars
Jun 09 '03
The Bottom Line Today's embarrassing damp undies may be the key to future financial liquidity!
What’s up with this topic?
I’m as open minded as the next guy, but this sounds just plain wrong.
Urinary incontinence collection?
That’s pee, right? A collection of pee?
Let me get this straight. People collect stuff that was peed on? How gross is that! What the hell happened to collecting stuff like stamps and coins and bubble gum cards? Too staid and old-fashioned for this new generation?
O.K. I’m an old guy, but I’m not entirely out of it. I try to keep up with new things. I’ve heard about places on the internet where a guy can buy unwashed, used panties, but that’s a different thing entirely. Bought twenty or thirty pair myself. But only because I’m a soft touch and want to help those poor young women pay their medical or law school tuition. It’s like an investment in this country’s future. Besides, they make the cutest aromatic little caps!
But pee? I don’t know, maybe I’m just an old fart, but if somebody pees on something, I ain’t going anywhere near it…much less take it home.
Is there really a market for this stuff?
Can you buy and sell it on eBay?
And does it have to be famous people pee? (Like Urethra Franklin’s, for example?)
Probably. Who the hell is gonna pay good money for just plain old everyday peon pee. I guess it’s gotta be famous, classy pee…like urine. Yeah, that’s right. Fancy folks don’t just pee like you and me. The golden emissions from their pampered and privileged bladders is called urine. And rich and famous guys don’t just go and hose down a wall like I do, they urinate. (I think they teach you how to do that when you join one of those fancy rich peoples’ clubs. Kind of like a secret handshake or something.)
Now, urine…that’s just got to be worth something, right? Even sounds expensive, don’t it?
So, if you must collect incontinence urine...collect only the best. Focus your efforts on athletes, heads of state, and other celebrities.
I can just imagine some prissy and proper official at one of the big New York auction houses trying not to hurl up his lunch while soberly proclaiming, “Item number 402 is a pair of damp boxer shorts formerly worn by Ronald Wilson Reagan, the 40th president of the United States. The rear of the shorts is emblazoned with the official Presidential bacon strip. Opening price is ten thousand dollars.”
If this urine collecting thing catches on, I don’t ever want to go to another baseball game. I can just picture some kid yelling, “Hey, look! There’s Derek Jeter! Hey, Derek! Couldja come over here and pee on my scorecard, please?”
Or can you imagine the kid’s Mom’s reaction when the kid gets home and tells her, “Hey, Mom! I met Sammy Sosa today! I didn’t have any paper for him to autograph, so he peed on my Cubs jersey!” I don’t care how much that stuff may be worth. If you ask me, that’s one bat that Sosa should keep corked.
Or does this “incontinence” thing imply that the pee has got to be leaked accidentally?
Do you have to ask somebody like Mike Piazza to carry your autograph book around in his jock during the entire game just in case some pitcher throws a fastball at his head and makes him pee himself from sheer terror? I mean if it happens, fine. You’ve got yourself a valuable collectible. But, if it doesn’t, all you have is a sweaty and smelly autograph book that your wife won’t let you bring back into the house. Women just don’t understand sports.
Well, I guess this hobby will probably make those Old Timers’ games a lot more popular. Those old farts probably leak so much they could cause a rain delay.
And how can you prove that what you have is really famous people urine, and not just common pee? Does the person actually have to sign his name in pee? (Remember how we did it in the snow when we were kids?) Works fine for the guys. They got this protruding tubular writing implement. But what do the women do? Everybody knows women can’t write for squat. They got the wrong kind of tool. Can’t control the damned thing. And who is gonna pay big money for sloppy penmanship? Another case of women getting the short end of the stick.
What about those poor folks with the “shy” bladder problem? You know…they can’t pee in public. Will they be cut out of this lucrative business? Talk about discrimination.
And what about those famous authors and their book signings? Won’t that stuff make the freaking ink run? And what if you want to read the damned book? You either wait a week for it to dry out, or you’re forced to wear a raincoat and rubber gloves while you’re reading. Talk about a pithy novel!
Urine collection has got to be a tough hobby.
O.K., so you overcome your initial revulsion at having strangers’ waste materials in your home. The promise of enough money can do that to you. Where the hell do you keep your collection? One or two pair of wet drawers would probably be pretty inoffensive. But when your collection grows to scores of damp drawers, a couple of dozen soggy books, and the somewhat squishy bucket seat from a 2002 Porsche, it’s bound to stink up the whole damned house. It’ll be like living in a freaking toilet! Wonder if they make urinal cakes the size of a coffee table?
Maintenance can be an issue. If it dries up, does it lose some of its value? You may have to build a specially humidified room for your collection. Or do you cheat and give it an occasional personal sprinkle to keep it suitably moist. Who the hell is gonna check? Ain’t like there’s a special government counterfeit urine squad out there.
Yet.
But if the government can make some money out of it, you can be sure it won’t be long until we have Pee-men. (Not to be confused with Cee-men which is different in both color and texture. But they got banks for that now. And all those years I couldn’t give the stuff away! But that’s a different review. Coming.)
Anyway, don’t take the grumbling of this old curmudgeon to heart. I wouldn't choose collecting incontinence urine myself. But I certainly don’t want to discourage anyone from enjoying this trendy uro-centric hobby. What do I know? I still think electricity and computers are just passing fads. And if God meant us to fly, he would have put our nuts in little cellophane bags…and salted them.
So next time something makes you laugh so hard you feel the tears running down your leg, save those wet drawers and sopping socks just in case you become famous.
There just might be big, big dollars in those golden showers.
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rich2003dm
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Location: New York City
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I broke my pencil so I'm probably done here.
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