For those of you who do not know me, and probably those of you who do, I spend a great deal of time masturbating. So it should come as no surprise to you that on this most boring of breaks, I have spent a great deal of time masturbating. I masturbated in bed, I masturbated in the living room, I masturbated on the Christmas tree, I masturbated on my cat, I masturbated in the backyard, etc. And as ashamed as I am to admit it with all of the masturbating I was doing, I started to get bored with my usual brand of pornography. No offense, Slutty French Maids Fuck Each Other’s Brains Out, but I can only watch two women in corsets 69ing for so long (for the record it took me ten days to get to this point). I decided a needed a fresh new, hip pornography.

So I went to YouPorn, and I found her… and more importantly, it. The girl I had been expecting, but had never thought to see her doing what she was doing with one of those. And quite frankly, it was magical.

Suddenly my entire life snapped into focus. I now know why cutting vegetables makes me nervous. I see exactly why I get aroused watching women browsing in the produce aisle. I know why I painted my penis green when I was a child. I finally understand why I run to the fridge whenever a girl takes her clothes off in front of me. For sliding in and out of the woman’s vagina was the one thing I have always wished my penis was… a cucumber.

This was performed by Scotch ‘n’ Soda Theatre. It won me and Chicken Chow Fun a nice shiny “Best Original Play” award, but I think it was in large part thanks to the performances of the cast (which included two other Clunkliners) and work of the director. Underground Man got nominated for Best Male Lead for his role, which is pretty hard to do since this festival always takes place after the nomination period is basically over.

Technically, it also won “Best Post-show Music” but I don’t think that counts since they made the award up just to give it to us.

Hold the Elevator was written, rehearsed, and performed in the space of 24 hours.

I tagged it as a film because we don’t have a category for plays.

The first thing you will notice about my roommate is the smell. You see, my roommate doesn’t believe in doing laundry. I can count on one hand the number of times my roommate did laundry this school year (not an exaggeration). The result: piles of my roommate’s dirty laundry covering ninety percent of the floor space. However, let it not be said that he did not attempt to “clean” his clothes. Every morning before he left my roommate would spray Axe all over the clothes he was wearing for the fifth day in a row. The result: I would gag on the smell of Axe then gag again on the smell of Ass. Lovely. I give my roommate’s smell a 2 out of 10 because he never puked in the room.

The next things you notice about my roommate are the noises he makes. Listening to my roommate talk produces the same sensation as trying to jam a cheese grater into your ear canal. Then, once your body recovers from its sonic brutalization, you process exactly what it was he said and go back into shock (more on that later). And woe to you if he should find one of his own jokes sufficiently funny to laugh at, creating a sound akin to a gazelle being drowned by a crocodile. Finally, there are the sounds he makes in his sleep. Of course, there is the standard snoring, but there are also the much worse night screams. Apparently, he sometimes forgets how to breathe when he is sleeping, so he wakes up doing his best impression of a ringwraith. When you are dreaming of the naked women who ignore you in real life, being awakened by the servants of Sauron is unpleasant. Very unpleasant. I give my roommate’s noises a 1 out of 10, because they frankly constitute a crime against nature.

The third thing you notice about my roommate is the smell again, but since I already reviewed that, let’s talk about his girlfriend. First–what the fuck, this guy has a girlfriend? Scratch your head, rub your beard. Whatever, the point is, their relationship makes me uncomfortable. I was never once asked to stay out of the room for a while. Instead they demonstrated their affection for each other in the common area on our floor. And I’m not talking about kissing and a little lap sitting. No I’m talking about full blown role-playing and bondage for beginners. So, freaky ass shit to have happening on your floor’s lounge. Especially if you want to ever use the couch again. In short, I give my roommate’s relationship with his girlfriend a 3 out of 10. I mean, yeah, I never got sexiled, but being invited to observe was arguably worse.

Finally, once you’ve gotten past all the other repugnant-ass shit about my roommate, you get to his personality, and realize it is perfectly matched to him. Let me start by saying that there is a special place in Hell for anyone who uses the phrase “superman that ho” regularly in conversation. My roommate is going there. His way of expressing admiration is to say he wants someone’s cock in or around his mouth. Even worse: the people whose cocks he talks about are George W. Bush and Ronald Reagan. Then he will go on to say something retarded about how privatization is going to save America and bring death to the infidels and communists. I give my roommate’s personality, intelligence, and belief system a 2 out of 10. There are worse people out there, but not by much.

My final review of my roommate is a 2 out of 10. There you have it. I’ll try and top this review next year, by which I mean, get a worse score. Oh, and don’t buy my roommate from this year.

As a result of these discoveries I have decided that it is my duty to myself to pee wherever I am when I need to go. Now some of you may think that this is wrong. That is the result of foolish taboos instilled by Benjamin Franklin. The greatest example is peeing in the shower. Sometimes all that running water…you know…makes you have to go. And at times like this we all realize how stupid it is that the toilet is so far from the shower. So what to do? Well Benjamin Franklin would have you believe that you need to either get out of the shower and trudge all the way to the toilet or suffer serious strain to you bladder. But why would the shower tempt us to pee so badly and then expect us not to? The answer it wouldn’t. The shower is just showing you what to do.

Okay so my piercing logic has convinced you that the shower is a great place to pee. Good. But what about peeing in public places? I’m going to let you in on a secret that that fat cat Benjamin Franklin doesn’t want you to know: if a car runs over your urine it is not yours anymore. All of the oil and grease and rubber coupled with the heat from friction fundamentally changes the urine so it isn’t yours anymore. It’s not even urine anymore. So anywhere a car could run over your urine you can pee without remorse. That means parking lots, streets, sidewalks, the exteriors of buildings, and driveways are all game. Take that Benjamin Franklin!

Finally the most misunderstood place to urinate is people’s yards. Guess who pees in your yard all the time. Me. You know why? Guess who else pees in your yard all the time? All kinds of animals, bacteria and bicycles. You know why they do it? To mark the places where they are boss. Well they aren’t my boss. So I had to pee in your yard to show them, and so do you. So you drink a lot of coffee, watch some Youtube footage of Niagara Falls, and pee all over the world like Nature intended.