Holding your flower is no gonna help, Friday 22 May 2020, Day 65

And so, I’m running just as fast as I can, hoping that nobody grabs my hand, trying to get, to get to the loo, then I tumble to the ground and I scream….. Bastard no again!

My pal sent me a picture last night it said, "People start worrying about coronavirus when they cough, you just worry about pissing yourself" Well I laughed so much that the tears were streaming down my legs!

Aye, I’ve got a pee problem, in fact for many years it was a big problem what started off as a wee cute leakage when I coughed, sneezed, laughed or was sick, had turned into a big gush of long vodka with a shot flung in.

It’s no nice and for a long time I just managed to control it, if I was in a meeting and coughed or sneezed, I would be like a fucking meercat as my body would raise up an inch or so as I was pure squeezing my insides. If I was having a laugh, I would instinctively reach for my flower hold it and cross my legs, It’s no a good look on Argyle Street in the middle of the afternoon. Why do we do that, it’s no as if you can push the pee back up? I don’t think I have ever seen a guy doing that.

Despite things getting worse I never done anything about it. On two occasions I had to leave work and pop into Matalan to buy new pants and trousers.

Trying to control my bladder at the same time as being sick was virtually impossible and I was always making the call should I pee the floor and vomit in the pan or pee in the pan and vomit on the floor. My life would be so much easier if all bathrooms have the sink next to the pan.

One time at a friend’s house party I peed in the pan and vomited down in between my legs, well I couldn’t really vomit on her floor. Aww man I thought pulling my pants and trousers up after that was bad but see when I got home and had to take them off, let’s just say I never needed a tidy up down there for a long time.

But it was the following incidents that made me eventually deal with the situation.

I was driving home from Tesco’s at the Forge retail park, as I pulled out into the Gallowgate I shoved a soft mint in my mouth, don’t you just fucking hate it when you get a hard soft mint, its false fucking advertising. Any hard ones I get, I keep in a tub and send them to Trebor with a strongly worded letter of complaint, but they have never once replied to me.

So, I shoved the soft mint in my mouth but with such velocity the mint fires right down my throat. I tried to bring it back up, but it slipped down further. I started to panic and as the tears poured down my face I struggled to concentrate on driving I started pounding on my chest, hitting my back off the seat and forced myself to gag. As I shot through the red light the mint flew out my mouth, landed on the dashboard and the pee flew out my bladder, I was frigging soaked. When I put my car in for a valet, I told them my dog had peed on the seat.

One time the works charity band were playing in Oran Mor, it was a brilliant night, there was about 100 people there and everyone was buzzing, after the gig everyone piled up into the main bar. I reached over to get my Bacardi and Coke, took a swig and realised it was a JD.

As the JD slid down my throat the bile rushed up to the back of my throat, unzipping my jeans while running to the loo, I jumped into a cubicle pulled my pants and jeans down and got on my hunkers just in time for the vomit to fly out my gob and hit the pan. I could see the steam rising off the pee as it hit the floor, as it ran into the adjoining cubicles, girls were saying “eeew what the fuck is that, that toilet must be overflowing” Whit a fucking brass neck I stayed in the toilet for about thirty mins before venturing out, but at least I was clean and dry.

Until I saw Jenny Hulse who plays Amber in River City going out front for a fag, as you know I am a huge fan so I tapped a roll up fag, yes a roll up from the bands drummer and headed out to speak to Jenny.

Sliding up beside her I say Annie Wilkes style “Hey Amber, I’m your number one fan” how fucking cheesy is that I am surprised she never called the police. She nods at me, I’m sure it’s an invitation to chat so I walk nearer to her and cool as fuck l light the roll up, as I suck in the first draw the bile rises up and I vomit right in front of her, the next wave of nausea rises up so with a hand on my flower and a hand over my mouth I bomb it to the toilets.

I ran up the entrance steps jumped over handbags and jackets that were lying on the floor, ran around people and vaulted over a stack of glasses in crates. Just as I got to the toilet cubicle, I lost the race, the vomit and pee came flying out, but there was no mess on the floor this time as it was all soaked up in my jeans.

With my head low I walked back to the table to collect by bag and jacket to head home, as I lent over my pal rubbed my jeans and said, “oh doll did you spill your pint?” Well you should have seen her face when I said “no doll I just pished myself”