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March 5, 2003
I'm not sure how long I can go without pissing my pants. My bladder must be the size of a basketball. I elect to empty it. There's an old, neglected desk in the back room. I open a drawer, aim my dick in and let it rain. I don't think the flow will ever cease. I notice I'm pissing on a lot of old books I once loved, not to mention a bundle of someone's papers from school. I don't particularly care. Suddenly, I realize the bathroom is vacant, and I could have easily used it instead of the drawer.