Secular Haze

Satanic music played in the sound system. Hypnotic lullabies chanting charming blackness. People in the bar looked sleek and the beer was good.

"As the parish sighs in smoke

Enters the lady revealed of cloak

To the haunting sound of the monstrance clock"

Ghost sang and sang as I drowned myself in booze. The conversation at the table was somewhat uneventful. Harsh politic remarks, religion and the same shit that had become a regular thing to be brought up for many years now. I sat still and continued to drink.

"Come together, together as a one

Come together for Lucifer’s son

Come together, together as a one

Come together for Lucifer’s son"

"Are you a catholic?" Someone asked me.

"I was born and raised in one of those countries", I replied

"Do you mind the music?", he asked 

"Well", I paused, "I love Marilyn Manson", I continued

"Where are you from?" said the man

"I believe in God", I said curtly, "Just not the one everyone claims to believe in"

"Hmm, you must be happy then"

"Why is that?"

"You are in one of the most atheistic countries in the whole world", he fired back

"Hmm, I am happy here, people seem somewhat spiritual and engulfed into the fires of vice and decadence".

I stood up and walked towards the toilets. I had been rude, yet again. I didn't care. Not anymore. 

I pushed the doors open and walked into the men's room. Full graffiti and a delicate scent of lemon. I started to piss and I was at peace.  

Hrms Etc

11.12.13

Beer At The Gay Bar

"One beer, please", I said while looking around, trying to adjust my sight to the dim light and the laser beams cutting the air with a brilliant display of slickness.

"5 euro", said the bartender, a 30-something man wearing nothing but leather and sporting a hairy chest. I reached for the money into my bag and handed him some coins. "Keep the change", I replied.

I grabbed a stool and sat down. I sat strategically facing the dance floor. After all, it was my first time in a gay venue in Amsterdam, and I was going to enjoy it.

Everything was so different than what I was used to. The people. The tourists, the streets and the rain. I took a sip on the cold beer I had just bought and continued to satisfy my sight with the people sweating to the rhythm of house music.

My companion disappeared as soon as we walked into Church. I was not looking for him. he was looking for something I did not desired. I just wanted out from whatever life I had been leading until then. I was there to enjoy the view and that was what I was doing. The scene was everything that I had seen in the movies. But, this time I was there.

I continued to drink my beer. I was too high to do more things at the same time. After having washed the dryness of my mouth down with a sip of cold beer I continued to look at the characters in the club. Eye contact was something so easy to achieve in here, unlike in the Czech Republic. 

I was high, and I was working my way into drunkenness. The lights, the music and the people there made the whole experience so enjoyable. People danced and moved in such a classy way. Their style was totally different. 

"One more beer, please", I said. The scruffy bartender, dancing to the beat of  International Love, began pouring beer into two pint glasses. Soon, he put both on the bar and claimed his 5 euro. 

"Oh, I just wanted one glass".

"Happy hour, two drinks for the price of one", he replied.

So there I was, with two pints of beer. Sitting and enjoying the show, when my friend, out of nowhere grabs me by the arm and tells me: "Let's check upstairs", so I give him my extra glass of beer and we move into the crowd.

I'm Afraid Of Americans began to play. The lurking eyes of people in the center of this volcano sought to interact with mine. I followed obediently. The lead of my companion jumped from pushing our way out of the multitude to walk in a kind of dance like crawl. 

My friend was good. And he knew it. Soon, all the attention was directed at this little act he had gotten me into. And I wanted to piss.

The beer and whatever else i had ingested that night had worked their way out of me. And we kept on moving. Like the newest freak in the circus. Not that I didn't enjoy it. I did. I tried my best to follow the snake like movements of Glev. I was never a good dancer, but sometimes my ungodly movements would attract some attention.

We were near the toilets. Out of the sexy mob behind. I saw darkness in the restroom. So I kept on following Glev. 

On the right you could see the stainless steal stair case. 

Glev stopped and turned around.

"This is the best part of Amsterdam", he said, "well, for me it's a ride", he concluded. He pulled me up the stairs and in less time that it could have taken for me to count the steps up, we were there.

It didn't take long for Glev to disappear, as he always did. He was also often late, but just in time for a big entrance. The laser lights radiated and got caught inside the drops of sweat from the crowd below, reflecting their beauty all across the night.

Instinctively, I followed the sounds that were familiar to me only to find Glev being finger-fucked by a man wearing a blue latex glove. "Fuck", I thought, "I need to fucking piss."

Glev was riding some kind of leatherish headless horse, with the right index finger of some guy in his insides. I headed down to the toilets. I the knew I had to piss, but the lack of light of that place kind of scared me.

Once inside, I realized that no one was there. 

"What a pity", I thought.

Hrms Etc

27.06.13

The Sound Of Pissing II

"The following is an unreleased interview for Empire Magazine"

Prague, Spring of 2013

One of our reporters managed to get a hold of the infamous artist Hrms Etc, as his fans call him. 

We are sitting in the hotel suite of one of Prague's most expensive hotels. Hrms Etc has asked the hotel staff to decorate his room with several screens, blocking the over-decorated walls and making this room darker and colder. Different things are playing on each screen. We recognize 'House of 1000 Corpses', and 'The Exorcist'. Straight porn, gay porn and nudity on other screens. Alejandro Jodorowsky's "El Topo", is what catches out attention. A series of unnatural shots put together in such a appalling way. A master piece of the spaghetti westerns.

Hrms Etc is sipping on red wine. He is staring at the screens showing nudity. 

We clear our throats and proceed with the long awaited interview.

Empire: How's the wine?

Hrms Etc: Quite good. The fact is that I didn't have to pay for it. So it is better and stronger for that reason. I like red wine. I like it when I feel romantic. I like it when I feel like getting wasted. I like red wine.

E: That's good. So, we wanna thank you for this interview.

H: No, thank you for coming all the way down to my hotel in such a terrible weather.

It is pouring cats and dogs outside

E: So tell us, What kind of food could you do without?

H: Hmm, I think I could do without many different kinds of food. For instance, I think I couldn't care less if i stopped eating broccoli.

E:What's your favorite song at the moment?

H: Teenage Nosferatu Pussy. It has a funny dark side to it and I just can't stop listening to this one.

E: What's your favorite vegetable?

H: I don't have any favorite one

E: What's your favorite part of your body?

H: My dick

E: Is there any movie character that resembles your mother or your father?

H: Well, I think "The Shinning", and I would be the little kid repeating RedRum 32 times.

E: What do you think when you are pissing in the men's room?

H: Strangely enough, I like to think that someone is watching me piss. Call it a fantasy. Call it what you want. Sometimes I think that guys in the men's room enjoy the situation and look at other guys' dicks. Women are lesbians by nature. Men like to look at dicks pissing, I think. At least I do. And I know some other men who would agree with me. I do not know whether they just like to stare.Or if they like to compare size and girth. I like counting so sometimes I think I come up with the strangest games. In my head I have to count things. So sometimes when I am in the men's room I like to count how many cocks I get to see. But most of the times I only see mine. That's arousing.

E: What was the last nightmare you had?

H: I was in a mall and everybody was shopping.

E: What do you think of the Boston Bombing?

H: I think Americans are so good at media manipulation so they make this single act of violence into a huge world wide thing that has nothing to do with more important things that are going on right now. But please compare this with the thousands of people American troops have killed in Iraq or Afghanistan. Boston is nothing compared to what they have done in those two countries. But I feel sorry for the guy who lost his legs and his dick.

E: Is there any fantasy that you haven't fulfilled?

H: Yeah, some.

E: Coffee, black or with milk?

H: Milk

E: Favorite celebrity?

H: The Artist

E: Cocaine or E?

H: Neither

E: Thank you very much for your time

H: Thank you for yours

Courtesy of EM

19.4.2013

How To Use A Toilet (Explicit Version)

He would go to work every morning. Always on time. Always wore freshly ironed clothes with the right amount of cologne, not to draw too much attention but to leave a trail of sweetness in the air as he walked by. Every morning he would wake up to the 6:30 alarm clock. Like a Brit always on time. Exact and elegant.

His day would start up with him walking into the shower and for precisely 9 minutes, he would wash his body. The first thing was to get the water to the right temperature and then he would let it rinse him from head to toes. A gentle squeeze to the shampoo bottle to have just about enough to wash his grey short hair.

He would continue then with the shower gel. Always a different scent. For he had pretty much all the different available types of shower gel available in the market. He would scrub each inch of his aging body and he would do it in circles as instructed by his dermatologist.

After ironing his white Oxford shirt and putting his Bedford jacket on he would step into the kitchen to fix himself something to drink before hitting the street like any other normal day. A freshly brewed cup of coffee would get him started. Ready for yet another day at the office. He was calm and never said much.

One would notice his arrival to the office. He was always a very polite kind of man. A true gentleman.

"Good Morning everyone", he would say

"Hello, Dick", the secretary would reply.

"How was your romantic evening with your husband"

"Uneventful, he went on to explain to me the benefits of eating meat"

"Oh, he still doesn't understand that you will continue with your vegan food, huh?

"No, he refuses to understand that meat is murder"

"Well, have you prepared anything vegan for him yet?"

"He won't eat anything healthy, he is all about meat and potatoes, his breath reeks of death"

"Oh, And how's everything else?"

"Terrible, his cock won't get hard"

"Oh my"

"It is terrible. All I want is to have a baby so that I can have an excuse not to work in this shitty place"

"Yeah that is a good reason"

"But, Dick, what can I do for him to stop eating dead animals, and for his cock to work?

"Have you guys tried going to the doctor?"

"Yeah, I go there every week to have my colon cleaned, but he won't go with me. Only my mother understands the importance of having a clean and healthy colon"

The morning coffee would have already kicked in at this point of the conversation. Luckily for Dick, the age and caffeine didn't mix well anymore.

"Excuse me, I have to use the men's room", he said

"Oh, sure go ahead", the secretary said with a smile and a confusing wink.

This time, Dick was calm. He did not stare at the mirror. And  he did not cry and tremble as he would every time he had to use the toilet before proceeding with his manly business in the toilet. He went straight to the urinals and took a leak. After all the urine had gone down the drain, he moved back to the sink where he washed his hands, taking enough soap to create enough foam to get rid of all bacteria efficiently. Two paper towels would do the trick of wiping his hands dry. 

As he left the men's room that day and made his way back into his office, he thought about his plants at home and how lovely they all looked from outside his window. All placed strategically on the inner ledge of the window to have just about the right amount of light and shadow.

"Oh my gosh", an annoying loud voice came out from the main office, "don't you ...", bam, Dick closed the door behind him.

"Excuse me, I did not hear you", said Dick in his usual friendly way

"I said: Oh my gosh, don't you have a toilet in your flat?", replied his boss

"I do not follow", answered Dick

"Don't you have a fucking toilet in your flat?", shouted the female dressed in clothes that looked somewhat dirty as if she had slept with them on all night.

"Why do you always have to go to the office toilet every morning", she went on, "it is not possible that you do not have a toilet in your flat, for god's sake", she said.

"Right. About the toilet, I wanted to show you something. It is vital that you do something about this. You cannot let our clients see this. It is really strange. Won't you come with me?, Dick asked.

"Fuck, what now?, last week it was Meredith's menstruation's blood all over the ladies room. What now?. I bet you left a nasty and stinky floater. Fuck, Dick, can't you use a toilet correctly, flush the goddamn toilet. Why are you so fucking dumb?. I am surrounded by incompetent and ugly people. Look at me I am so fucking important. I run this office. Look at my legs, they are perfect. Men ask my for my phone number when I walk through the park. I am more beautiful that this vegan cunt behind the reception desk. Fuck, why am I surrounded by all you fucktards."

She stood up from the desk in the dark office where she pretended to work every day. She walked towards reception and signaled Dick with her right hand to go on and show her whatever he wanted her to see.

"Show me now, I do not have your time to be fucking around", she roared.

"This way", said Dick. "It is the strangest thing I have ever seen. You have to do something about it. It is disturbing, it makes me cry everyday." he said while leading the way into the toilets. The female followed mumbling something to herself. 

Once they were in the men's room, Dick pointed at one of the toilet cabins. She went in frowning in her usual way. Trying to look for whatever Dick had told her was there. She sniffed and moved her body as if she was a snake. Dick stood closely behind her. 

"What is it, Dick?", she said. "I do not see anything strange", she went on.

"Right there, next to the base, can 't you see it?", he replied.

Dick's boss bent over, and it was then when Dick jumped her, grabbing her by the neck and pushing her ugly face into the toilet bowl. She kicked and threw punches at the air. Dick was bigger and stronger than her.

"I do have a toilet in my flat", said Dick while using all his strength to keep his boss's face under the toilet water. "And no, you are not beautiful, you piece of shit, you are nothing but a terrible person", whispered Dick.

The woman kept on struggling. All in vain. 

"I will now be able to work in peace", Dick thought. "Everyone will be happier when you are gone, bitch."

There was water all over the floor. Dick grabbed his boss's head, lifted it and crushed it against the white toilet edge. Soon, all the struggle stopped. And blood started to gush as if it had been wanting to escape its vessel for quite some time now. Dick, an all English man, didn't want to make a mess, so he moved the head directing the blood right into the toilet bowl. Soon, he knew that she was dead and the world would be a better place.

Hermes Coldwell

21.3.13

(Dedicated to R.T)

 

Why Does It Hurt When I Pee?

Bang! I couldn't breath. His knee went straight into my gut. I stopped looking at him. All I could see was black and red and white and green and red again. 

All the years of karate lessons had been for nothing. There was nothing I could do but surrender and take it like a man. Hold the tears deep inside and just wait for it to end. 

Music played outside the toilets. It was Fucking In The Bushes by Oasis,

"Kids are running around naked, fuckin? in the bushes.

Kids are running around naked, fuckin? in the bushes.

Kids are running around naked, fuckin? in the bushes.

Kids are running around naked, fuckin? in the bushes"

Second and third blow to my face. I quickly wrapped my head and face with my arms in vain. Jab to my rib cage. Left hook. Right hook. 

I tried to focus on other thing rather than the fact of me being in the most terrible situation I had ever been. The music outside didn't help. "Fucking in the bushes?", I thought, "what the fuck?". All my friends were outside, drinking, laughing and enjoying our Friday get together and I was being used as punching bag in a dirty toilet in Zabovresky.

Graphic Nature by Deftones began playing on the old jukebox of that fucking bar. My head now was being used to hit my attacker's knee. I laughed inside. "I am beating the shit out of his knee, with my goddamn head!", I thought in a fucking sarcastic way.

"Leave your trail open 

Let me inside 

Guess I’m confused more or less 

She'd some light 

And tell me your secret 

How are you trained? 

I promise you I can keep it 

Go on explain… 

Tell me how you do it…now 

Your poison is glowing 

Against the night 

How can you lose"

Chino Moreno went on singing one of my favorite songs. I had been there for hours it seemed. Somehow I managed not to shout for help. I couldn't do anything. Not even throw a punch, try to bite his nose off, kill him.

My pants were unzipped as I was trying to take a leak when this beast decided to go berserk on me and turn me into a practice target. I must have pissed in my pants as he was quick to attack me from behind.

"Nemluvim Cesky", I told him when he grabbed me and turned me around to see my face. His breath stank like beer, piss and cigarettes. "Nemluvis?" he asked me. 

"Ne"

"Myslim ze jo, pico"

"Ja jsem Mexican", I pleaded.

"Ty pico", he said continuing with a sequence of blows directed to my abdomen.

I opened my eyes. I was on the floor right next to the toilet bowl. It was dark and music could be heard from afar. I couldn't make out what song it was. I fixed my eyes on the toilet just to see how badly damaged it was. 

"Fuck, what am I going to do now?", I said to myself. "Should I wait here a little bit longer?", I thought. All I wanted to do was to stand up and lock the door so that motherfucker wouldn't attack me again. 

So I managed to get up and close and lock myself inside. Once I had done that I reached for my phone on the left pocket of my pants and I took a picture of the blood I had spill all over the white toilet. "I need proof that I was attacked", I thought. 

Outside I began to hear screams and broken glass. I decided to wait until everything was quiet. I grabbed some toilet paper and rolled it in order to create a tampon like plug to stop my nose bleed. I used two squares of toilet paper for each nostril. I waited. 

Soon, somebody knocked at the door and I opened. It was a police officer. Someone had called the police and they stopped the guy who attacked me from continuing to beat my friends and everyone at the bar. His friends had ran away. My assailant, had jumped one of the police officers causing him to be sprayed with pepper and beaten with their batons. 

Once he was inside the police car, and everyone had given their statement we continued our Friday night by going to a different pub and drink the night away just to stop the pain at least for a while.

Hrms Etc

7.3.13

  

1979

I didn't have any friends during the first semesters of High School. I would wander around the campus looking at people. Looking at how happy they were. Hanging out and copying homework from the nerds. Planning parties and sharing adventures from the previous massive gatherings full on booze and loud music.

I didn't have any friends to walk around the school with. Nor did I have anyone to listen to the stories of a 15 year old friendless guy. Yes, I would spend most of the time at the computer lab, doing homework and surfing the internet. 

On the internet I would find the lyrics to all my favorite songs and learn them by heart. Occasionally, I would assist the class hacker with his daily schedule of playing pranks on the less knowledgeable people at the lab. It was fun, yet it was the only thing I could do to somehow interact with other people. 

I wanted a friend so badly that I would agree and cooperate with JC on installing Sub Zero on the computers so that it would be easier to perform his cyber magic. Nothing like deleting their homework, he had a policy of just having a good time opening the computers' cd tray or opening new browser windows displaying porn. Not just any porn, but the kind of porn that would make a 15 year old stare at the screen in a not-so-well-defined state of disgust and amazement. It was fucking funny to see their reactions and even funnier when one of guards would caught them staring at that pussy dripping cum from Smutland's home page. Indeed, good time to remember, just not enough.

After having had a hilarious time at the computer lab, JC's friends would come and pick him up and disappear outside in the crowd. I would then continue searching for cool pictures of my favorite anime characters.

After finishing my homework for the next day and having printed out lots of lyrics to all my favorite bands' songs I would head downstairs to the cafeteria stand in the main campus square of High School. I would always buy a Sincronizada which consisted of a flour tortilla, mashed beans, ham and cheese and carefully warmed up in a microwave oven. I would then pay and walk to the least crowded place. If I was lucky, I would find an empty bench to sit on and enjoy my lunch. If luck was not on my side I would walk towards the gardens behind the main building of my school and eat my food with great relish.

Then I would go to the toilet. I really liked to use those toilets. They were like hotel toilets. Always clean and with a fresh smell. Soap was always available and they were large and the doors of the cabins locked. And nobody would disturb you while taking a crap.

Most of the times when I went to the toilet, they were empty, which gave me more freedom of taking all the time in the world to get rid of breakfast patiently. But not that day. That day I went inside, opened the cabin's door and checked for toilet paper. I had once ran out of toilet paper and I had to quickly change cabins so that I was able to finish cleaning my asshole. That they as I pull my pants down and sat, some people came inside.

There were two guys I could tell. I sat quietly and listened. The quickly opened the doors to the toilet cabins and locked them in a jiff. I sat there and tried not to make any noise. They continued to talk about football. It hit me then. They were from the school team. They were from university. It was cool that two guys went together to take a dump in the toilet. I fantasized about cool it would be to have a friend to share something as private as shitting with. How long had they been friends to have actually found out that it was ok for them to poo at the same time at the same toilet?. 

Then, one of them started pushing harder. And a fart came out from his asshole. The sound was loud and it echoed in the emptiness of the second floor men's' room. I sat in awe. How could anyone just fart so loudly when they know they are not alone?, I thought. Then the second guy said: "Dude, that's nothing", and he let escape an even louder fart. The first one laughed. What went on was that both of them were competing to win the crown of the loudest fart of that day.

I didn't know what to think. On one hand I thought that those two guys were friends. And to me, friendship was much more than sharing loud stinky gas explosions product of a spicy breakfast. But, the idea of sharing something that most people deem disgusting and embarrassing with someone else seemed to be true friendship. 

They went on until there was no more gas to be drained and no more shit to splash against the inside of the bowl. I heard them talk about their coach and their shitty tests' results. I heard the toilet paper being pulled and unrolled. And then I heard them flush their toilets, open the doors, walk to the sinks and wash their hands. It was all done with laughter and normal conversation. 

Soon they were gone and alone in the privacy of my toilet cabin I sat. Wondering if I would ever share my farts in the same fashion with anyone.

Hrms Etc

19.2.13

Shit Happens

The night seemed to last forever. And there I was. The O2 Arena was full of the most bizarre people I had ever seen. All gathered there to dance to the beats of Paul Van Dyk. It was not a place I would have chosen to be that night or any other night. In fact, I never thought I would ever pay to attend such a concert. I was more of a rock music type. Beer, smokes and at least 3 power-chord songs decorated with spit and vomit would make my day.

But no, I was at an Electronic concert. I was an alien to the whole subculture. People there didn't look normal. What was normal anyway?. I must admit that some of the attendees had a good taste for looking somewhat off. They all looked like the cool kids in my high school thought they looked like, even though they never quite did.

The place was huge and it was full of people, mostly wearing white clothes with a touch of darker colors giving them a slick accent that in the dark of the night certainly seemed attractive to the eye. They were practitioners of the Techno lifestyle deception. Mystifying their flaws under million lights shining the darkness away for short whiles. Covering up their scars and empty carcass like bodies with make up and expensive looking garments. 

There was something odd to this crowd. It was not the kind of music they adored. The music was ok. There was something wrong and obscure. I couldn't figure it out. So I moved to the bar, located at the side of the dance floor. Surprisingly enough, getting booze was easier than I had expected. People were everywhere, but the bar was not on their map.

"One beer", I said.

"One hundred crowns please", replied a lady with pink hair. 

One hundred crowns, for a beer, "that's fucking expensive", I said to myself. I took my wallet out of my green converse bag and reached for a 200kc bank note. I paid and grabbed my plastic cup with beer inside and I walked back to my spot near the stage.

Again, it was quite easy to move back and forth from my place by the stage to the bar and back again. This was something new to me. There was no mosh pit and people pushing their sweaty bodies against mine at all time just to be closer to the stage to catch a glimpse of their favorite rock stars.

People were everywhere, but it seemed that they had a designated spot to dance freely with no human touch to bother them. Without mixing the salty sweat of the ones around them. For God's sake!, not even spit was being projected out from their mouths. It was organized chaos. And they all looked perfectly in their white pants and white tank tops.

I kept on repeating my routine of going to the bar and getting beer with no effort. "It is great", I thought. The music continued and the people never stopped dancing. My feet hurt. The show was boring. Instead I decided to watch the people around me and try to learn some new steps for the next time I had to dance. They danced in ways I had never seen people from this country dance like. There was something totally wrong about the whole thing.

After 4 beers I decided to hit the toilets. 

That was a journey. Unlike going to the bar for beer refills.

It was like everyone had to go to piss at the same time. "Maybe there is free goodies", I thought. After having pushed my way through I stepped inside one of the many men's rooms.

There were no free goodies. In fact inside the party had taken a different turn. And then, only then, all my suspicions came to an end. 

There were about 10 urinals lined up on the left across from the toilet cabins. There were 5 sinks and a huge empty white hall. All the urinals were taken. All the doors to the cabins were locked. I had to wait in a well organized queue. Behind me, still queuing, the guys danced to their favorite tunes. At the sinks, the guys danced as they washed their hands. And at the urinals, the guys decided to stop dancing and concentrate on something which seemed to be the cause of this party being different.

"Hey, do you have some cocaine?", asked the guy behind me

"Hmmm, no I don't sorry", replied politely

"What about some speed?", he went on

"I am out of speed", I said, trying to fit in

"Anything to smoke?" he inquired

"Just cigarettes"

"Can I have one?", I nodded and gave him one. I took my lighter out and lit a small greenish flame. He lowered his head and lit his cigarette.

"Thanks", he said while exhaling a large cloud of carbon monoxide.

"Yeah, sure", I said and turned around trying to find an empty spot for my urine. 

"Hey, care for some weed?", he asked

"Hmmm, yeah why not" I fired back, "do you have any?"

"No, I don't, but my friend has some good shit"

"Well, let me pee and I'll meet you outside"

"OK"

Some dude finished doing business with the urinal and walked back to the concert hall. It was my turn to finally piss the shit out of that urinal. 

So, I unzipped my pants and took my penis out. Oh it was good, too much beer had to be drained from my system. Then, I heard a loud moan. It was the guy taking a leak right next to me, on my left side. I couldn't avoid turning my head and looking at him. With his right hand he was rubbing something on his gums, and with his left hand he was holding a large cock that was far from passing unnoticed, even if you are one of those men who do not like to look at other men's tools at the toilets. 

"Damn", I thought, "is it hard or is it just a big chunk of manhood he is holding out there?". He went on moaning. His breath became harder and shorter as if he felt an orgasm coming. I directed my sight back on my business. Then I turned my head to the right, and saw that the guy next to me was also looking at Moaner, and then at his cock. And then I saw on his face the same expression I thought I had made when I saw that tremendous dick.

The guy on my right quickly finished pissing. Moaner continued to moan."He must be having a pig orgasm", I thought. Immediately, the urinal on my right was being used, or abused again. And I continued to urinate. 

Soon I heard a sound similar to what tic tacs make when you take them and place them on the palm of your hand. Everyone in that place was doing drugs. Moaner seemed to have finished as the moaning had stopped. His place filled up almost immediately. I was nearly done too. So I shook my dick, concealed it back into its place and headed to the sinks.

It was then when I heard it. An angry woman shouted: "Fuck you, I told you not to come inside", I halted as the door from one cabin opened and reveled a young woman in her 20s storming out with her face smeared with different fluids and colors. The guy sat on the toilet with his pants down and a face full of disappointment.

"These people certainly know how to party like rock stars", I said to myself. "Will I end up doing something similar if I smoke that joint?". I washed my hands and left to get myself a nice cold beer and continue to enjoy the decadent party that still had lots to offer.

Coldwell

5.2.13

In The Middle

I sat uncomfortable at our table. There were strangers and our nights had become somewhat inclusive. However, I really miss the way those nights unrolled. There was no work talk. Not that anyone cared about it but I think I kinda did. We would talk about France and wine tasting. Ostrava and its night life. Mexico and the fact that nobody rides donkeys when they commute.

I liked this place. Rodeo Drive had become the place to go after work. The food was totally different from what you could find everywhere else. Beer? I didn't really care as long as it kept on coming. I liked to have Fish & Chips. The real thing? nah, but it did the trick. Tasty and plentiful.

This night offered more than the usual. In addition to the French man, the German and the Czechs. An American newcomer happened to be there. Sitting right next to me. I had seen him before at McDonald's carrying a food tray with more food that I could ever even think of buying. Even for two people. It was too much food. "Maybe he is here with a group of friends from work", I thought to myself while waiting in line and following him with my eyes. "No, he is alone", I sighed.

Most of the conversations would start with my stories. Sometimes the Czechs would share information on new places where we could meet up the following Friday. Sometimes the French one would surprise us with his thick accent and a joke. I really never had a problem with his accent, but he would often ask us if his accent in English was American or truly British. We didn't care. We liked him for who he was and his accent would always put a childish smile on our tired faces.

Sometimes, we would make plans for the weekend. Not that night. That night went towards one of the most bizarre nights I had ever lived through.

"Circumcision", someone said. We all looked at the American. He went on by expressing how sad he was of not having had the choice, when he was born, of saying no to the removal of his foreskin. The German quickly try to change the topic of conversation by talking about french vineyards. Of the beautiful weather of south France in the summer. French cheese, "it is delicious", she emphasized with a mouthwatering sound. Her plan did not work at all. American boy had our attention.

"That's why next Spring, I will have my foreskin reattached", he said. We all were in for a hell of a story. A friend of mine removed her glasses and stared at him. She was intrigued by such statement. Somebody asked foreskin guy, "wouldn't it hurt a lot?, I mean, to..." she paused. I was just sitting there waiting for the right words not to sound like a complete dick. Pun intended.

There we were, at our favorite place discussing foreskins and skin grafting to cover some dick's second head up with skin from some unfortunate organ donor whom American Foreskin dude hoped had the same complexion. "It has to look natural",he added.

"All I want to do after my surgery is to go to some baseball game", he said, "like the Yankees or the Cubs"."Man up", I said to myself. 

"Are you from from New York?", I asked

"No, I am from California", he replied

"And you like the Yankees?", I continued

"No, I just can't help to imagine what it would be like to be there for a game"

"Yeah, lots of people, I don't like places with more people than it is necessary"

"Listen, every time I am pissing", he paused, "I have this urge"

"Urge?"

"Yeah, I have always thought about doing it"

Everyone was there just listening to our little conversation. It was like when you were a child and someone would go and tell you a horror story about some brutal killer on the loose, and the narrator would just continue to elaborate a story that is supposed to be short. The killer kills and that's it. Yet a good narrator always builds up a state or condition of mental uncertainty or excitement, as in awaiting a decision or outcome,usually accompanied by a degree of apprehension or anxiety. He was a good one, even though his story was about his trying to put a hood on his German war helmet.

"You have always thought about doing what?", I inquired

"You know, when I am pissing, especially in a public toilet, I always use the urinal in the middle"

"Go on", said one of my friends

"So, yeah, I wanna go to a Yankees games, and during the 7th inning, head to the men's room. Imagine how packed it would be", His eyes shone in excitement

"I would go straight into the men's room, unzip my pants, take out a gigantic black dildo and slap it against the urinal"

Everyone went mute. 

"Imagine the other guys' reaction", he added.

"It has to be one of those stainless steel urinals", he continued, "Imagine the sound it'd make".

Coldwell

22.1.13

The Sound Of Pissing I

When I was in college, I was always afraid to urinate when girls were around. I was afraid to pee directly into the toilet bowl because I had the feeling that girls judged the size of your cock by the sound of the flow, and I didn't want any kind of judgment going on. So I would always pee on the inside of the bowl and sometimes it would go a little over the edge. But with Melanie, I would take two big empty grapefruit juice bottles, fill them with water and dump them one at a time, very slowly into the toilet bowl. This would go on for five minutes while she was outside, screaming with laughter. [Taken from "College Girls", by Spalding Gray]

10.01.13

Contributed by Villardo Ricalobos

The Devil Is In All Of You

My phone kept on ringing. I left it on the table. And took several hits of rum. The ice had already melted but my drink was nicely cold. The goddamn phone kept on ringing. Nobody ever bothered to call me and ask how I was or that shit. But tonight it was ringing. Somebody wanted to talk to me. And I didn't. 

I never considered myself to be a bad person, let alone rude or uncaring. Friends always told me that I should learn how to be assertive.  But I just didn't want to answer that phone call. I took another hit of Bacardi and washed it down with beer. I could feel the booze making its way into my system, slowly but surely. It felt good. 

I noticed that my phone had stopped ringing. I turned it off. My ipod was in my bag, on the chair next to mine. I reached inside my green Converse bag and grabbed it. I managed to untangle the headphone's cable and I put them on. I liked this place, Mandragora, a run-down rock pub with a broken PA system. The perfect place for me to get on with my writing.

I enjoyed being there. Cheap booze, darkness and pictures of rock bands no one had ever heard of before hung perfectly from the slimy walls. Decoration or just a vain attempt to cover up the filth of these walls, I thought. I liked slimy walls better, I smirked.

I had shared this place with only a few people. They never liked it. It stinks like piss, one said. The other two had a posh attitude towards everything and they rated this bar as a shit hole. I didn't care. I can be here by myself, I thought. I enjoyed being alone. With some drinks and my notebook. Alone was ok.

I began writing some lines. It was November 2010. I kept on drinking. Another beer?, the waiter asked me. And a shot of Absinth, I replied.

Soon the drinks were on the table, right next to my black leather notebook. I wrote and wrote. Cold Red Light by IAMX was playing. I felt the energy flow through my skin towards my fingertips. I was writing something that wasn't part of what I had intended to write. I had had some beers and I was shooting up absinth straight into my blood.

I closed my eyes and when I opened them I was heading towards the toilet. It stank of shit and cigarettes. But I didn't care. The doors of the toilet actually locked. Something unusual about toilets of places like this. I liked to be able to lock myself in the bathroom and do my business without having to care about being interrupted by drunk patrons of Mandragora.

I was there. I wiped clean the toilet seat. I unzipped my pants and pulled them down. I sat down. I wasn't sure if I wanted to shit or just to piss. It didn't matter. Marilyn Manson began to play.

"Hey, cruel world…You don’t have what it takes

We don’t need your faith.

We’ve got fucking fate."

I sat there looking at the walls of this one toilet I was at. There was nothing new to see. Stickers of Anti Fascism and graffiti. I checked to see if there was enough toilet paper. There was plenty. I was fine.   

"The center of the universe

Cannot exist

When there are no,

No edges"

Manson sang. And I listened. Then the middle eight of the song kicked in. I could hear some people outside. I could make out some banging. I could only think. Are they fighting?. Should I stay in here?. Should I call the police?. Fuck, I thought, I don't know what to do. I heard some screaming. The banging got louder and so did the song. I will stay here, I said to myself. There is no way I am going to open this door now. I paused the song. I removed my headphones. The shouting got quieter and quieter. And in an instant, it was quiet as a grave.

I waited. I pulled my pants up and tried to peek through one of the cracks the door bore as a signature of violence and of bravery. There was nobody outside. At least no one I could see. I thought of running away from that place. I thought of the fact that I still had to pay for what I had ingested. I thought of leaving the bathroom and being blamed for the raucous. Shit, I thought of being mauled by the ferocious men that instants ago had been fighting in this very place. 

I opened the door and the first thing I saw was a man lying on the floor. There was no blood. Only piss and paper towels everywhere. I left the toilet as quickly as I could. They Waiter was at my table replenishing my beer. I waved at him, and signal him to come with me. He did. 

He stopped right outside the toilet and right in front of me. What? he asked. There was a fight, I said, and a man is on the floor, I continued. He opened the door and went inside. I followed. He stooped down and put his hand on the man's neck. He went on, this man is deceased.

Hrms Etc

8.1.13

 

The Almighty Toilet

I was on a bus heading north. There was enough light for people to mistake this time of the year for Spring. Yet the trees were dormant. There was frost all over their thick barks. Their leaves lay on the ground as if they had wanted it this way. The bus moved across the city and in 5 stops I was out of this grand mess called Brno. It all seemed happy as Clone by Metric played on my head.

The sky was red fading into blue and the people were slowly going to work.

"It's too late in the day,Too late in the day to turn it around or change my mind

It's too late in the day to take you on all the rides

It's too late in the day to tell me I'm off the path

We're already in the aftermath"

I sang to myself.

It was the 5th. stop and I had to get off. I looked at my phone in order to see the time and see if I could at least light up a cigarette to help me with the wait. Indeed, I had 6 minutes to kill a camel. Kill it   for the sake of the waiting. So I did. 

I saw a girl running from afar. And my next bus was up to pick me up. Bus number 1. I got on and then I was off again. I turned around and I saw the smoke of the cigarette butt that I forgot to put out making the most delightful plumes of white. 

Then the flushing sound of the toilet behind me brought me back to reality. I had finished long ago, but for some reason I just stood there, thinking of something I would never write. Thinking of something that seemed too beautiful to be true. I zipped up. Washed my hands. And there I was again. In my office, full of people I would never like. I just couldn't wait for the next time I had time to escape my white-collar endeavor.

Immanuel Kant

3.1.13