[...]N.L. Belardes | The Toilet Seat Smashed My Wiener | The Nervous Breakdown[...]…

The Nervous Breakdown…

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I’m not sure why, but I now have the Oscar Mayer Wiener song running through my head.

I remember camping with my best friend when I was about 7.
BF was a boy.
We both snuck out to pee in the middle of the night.
We heard a noise that scared us, and we both zipped up to flee….Poor kid.

Bike thing? Hypothesis: Might have to do with young girls borrowing boys’ bikes that are too big for them (’cause it’s cool and all) and, being accustomed to having a nice space in which to rest when stopping, are not as careful as boys in avoiding the evil bar.

In my case, I am entirely lacking in grace. It is preordained that stuff like that will happen.

WHY HAVE ALL GIRLS DONE THE BIKE THING???

OK, I’m calm. Just wondering.

I hope your reaction time improved after that incident.

Yeah…. My poor daughter.

Your poor daughter, Anon. I am seeing letters cut out of various newsprint fonts and mailed to boyfriends:
VaGiNA! dentATa! VAgINa dEnTata!

Only slightly better than flashing a weapon at the door. But only slightly.

I walked into a wall last night.
totally sober.
turned around when someone called me and bam. I planted my face into the wall.
I didn’t put a band-aid on it.

*snort*

Nick, my fourteen-month-old son is in the process of potty training and I will now inwardly cringe every time he approaches that sadistic porcelin mohel.

Weenie guillotines are the worst. I imagine most dungeons have those by the handful. Anyone who is a weenie executioner is just too horrible for words and probably has a secret Ken doll collection.

Now, did your toilet seat at least have those little stopper knob thingies which keep it from smashing flat? If yes, those things may have saved your little (circa 3-years-old, of course – no offense to the current state of things) wiener’s life. Just think! That COULD have been, like, a wiener GUILLOTINE.

And now I’m thinking of a horrible (yet hilarious) movie called “Teeth”.

Kryke, Nick. Just…kryke.

Platt, in my meager opinion is one of the most honest TV-made moments to have come out of the dishonest practice of reality TV. There are certainly more silly gems like him out there.

I don’t belong to the Writers of Kern, though I have spoken to them once, and keep meaning to attend. I started the Random Writers Workshop in Bakersfield. We meet on Wednesday nights at Russo’s Books. We have been averaging around 15 folks per workshop. Here’s some info, including a link to our Facebook fan page: http://www.bakotopia.com/home/ViewPost/121264

This week, one of the authors/screenwriters from The Nervous Breakdown is coming up to speak as we discuss setting in film, nonfiction and novels.

Jonathan Evison is a hoot. He won the Washington State Book Award last year. We went up to the giant sequoias in a madcap adventure, but didn’t pee on any of them, unfortunately.

I was at my girlfriend’s house. I had to piss like a Russian racehorse. I was also experiencing my first case of blue balls that day. They were extremely tender and ached with a dull pain.

Gingerly, I got up from the bed taking care not to squish my nuts as I moved forward.

The toilet was directly in front of me. My kidneys felt like they were going to burst. My girlfriend had a basket full of Cosmopolitan and Seventeen magazines to the left of the toilet. To the right was the shower curtain. As soon as the urine hit the air, one stream shot to the left and the other to the right. Absolutely zero ounces of pee went in the toilet.

It was unbelievable.

I had never experienced urinating with blue balls before until that moment and had no idea what the backed up sperm did to your pipes. It was like a horrible traffic backup and my urine was taking the detour, the scenic route.

I drenched my girlfriend’s Cosmo and Seventeen magazines to the point of no return but tried to salvage them nonetheless by dapping them with toilet paper. It was useless. Katie Holmes had just experienced her first golden shower and her face was crinkled as a result.

I wasn’t really worried about the shower curtain. It was used to getting wet.

The end.

I think I caused a few females to drop into the bowl. :/

I, for my part, remember my ass dropping in the bowl. That’s no picnic either, though not perhaps as soul scarring.

“I want a Band-aid!” … Classic!

I couldn’t help but think of my 4 year old nephew. My sister has a flower bed near her front door. On one of my visits whilst on the way out, my nephew decided that he needed a pee. His pants went down to his ankles and he watered each little flower, pengiun-walking from one to the other. Needless to say, those flowers are blooming like there’s no tomorrow! He’s also a fearless little critter and blames everything on his dog, Shiloh.

I like your story better: hurling onto a Viennese sidewalk. Sounds sort of romantic… hahaha.

Glad I could jar loose those memories!

It did almost get me killed in that creek. But it also makes me who I am today as someone who likes to explore.

Me and that old dog. We sure went places.

There might be a correlation between little boys fascination with aiming their little dicks and peeing and grown men’s fascination/obsession with well their dicks. lol. And chingpea might be onto something. Perhaps the toilet seat smashing incidents of little boys wieners does have something to do with why men can’t put the toilet seat down!

But what amazes me about this story is how adventurous a little boy you were. Curb sitting should be a requirement for all kids… ah to be young again in a time before internet and video games when kids actually went outside, played, explored and used their imaginations!

I have to ask, did you scare the neighbors to death when you came scampering out of the darkness in their garage?

Well done… thanks for the laughs.

Chorizo. I haven’t had chorizo and eggs in ages!

Your poor lil’ chorizo!

I’m a bit impressed that you remember that from such a young age. But then again — how could you not remember such a horrible thing, right?

When you had this posted on Facebook and Twitter, I kept wondering how it was possible for you to do such a thing. I hadn’t thought about how young boys might have that problem. I’d have to consider myself lucky that I hadn’t thought about something like that, because I’d be a bit worried about myself if I was thinking about such things.

Great story, Nick. I really ought to take writing lessons from you.

“Turn your hat sideways…”

BTW, I still keep reading your card to me in the mirror. How the heckadoodle did you learn to write like that? It’s badass. I would write an entire book that way if I were you. Someone would publish it I swear!! Call it “The Backwards Story,” and have everything in it happen in reverse!

My wiener says thanks.

Alas, this post is a success if @coffeelvnmom is laughing her ass off!

And what’s up with this comment thread? Must be a bunch of crazy bike riders in this group.

Ice. It’s our salvation at times. But not to get confused with icy hot. That’s an entirely different post…

I personally can’t remember any bruising.

Little boy wieners are like gummy worms I’m guessing.

I too had a biking accident similar to the ones Zara and Sammie described… I ended up on the sofa with a strategically placed bag of ice. All this time, I thought I was the only girl to ever get racked!

Fortunately, I never experienced the toilet seat in that way. My brain only let me catch myself in the zipper once.

For some reason your story reminded me of a lady who once told me she was at the zoo and a rhino started peeing on her and some others. Talk about aim.

I know what you mean about kids and wounds. I used to say “Slap it off!” and my boys would slap their skinned knees instead of crying.

And yes, Band-aids do fix everything. They can heal the world if we just put them everywhere with a few smooches.

You know I’d never heard of seat-to-dick damage until my ex-husband was visiting with his three-year-old last spring. The little guy had the exact same mishap on my toilet. It was awful to see him cry like that, but I have to admit, it was pretty dang funny.

The Band-aid was my favorite part. Everything can be fixed with a Band-aid. (I imagine you probably ran off like nothing had ever happened after that, back into the neighbor’s garage or to the curb again with your dog, Candy.) My girls were the same way about kisses. I think we could have kissed a gash the size of an uneaten biter biscuit and they would have run off happily to play, oblivious to squirting everywhere. (Okay, I *may* be exaggerating a bit about the blood.)

Reading this made me appreciate having girls. It also made me feel sorry for your three year-old self.

(Let me know if you need a theme song. I came up with one just in case. “My wiener has a first name, it’s O U C H – ouch!”)

I feel guilty for laughing, but I can’t help myself.

The only thing Nick forgot to mention was growing up enough to realize you could write your name in snow or dirt…cursive is easier!

Thanks for the laugh!

I’ve also had soiling mishaps in emergency situations, one not so long ago. Something about the way the boxers were arranged. Large dark spots on my trousers. I wasn’t close to home and had to meet people. I tried to solve the problem by taking off my jacket and tying it around my waist, turning the jacket around so that the bulkier part hopefully hid the stains. It probably didn’t work.

I wonder if my mom said that. I think I was too busy wailing for a Band-aid. lol

I never quite got over that.

Toilet stories are perennial classics.

“Turn my hat sideways….dick on the rim!”

Sorry to hear about your wiener.

“Dick on the rim…” will be playing in my head for the rest of the day. Thanks for that.

I never had the toilet lid encounter, but I’ve managed to zip myself a couple of times.