10,001 B.C. or Why Rick and Jerry Don't Go to The Bathroom Together

Dudes don’t go to the bathroom together. I think if I guy said “I have to tinkle, come with?” The friend would not only not come with, but he’d probably be on the verge of shooting the guy’s ass. Or, at he’d get an awkward expression on his face and probably never talk to the guy again. That’s the best case scenario. The worst case scenario is the friend’s wife would call up and tell the dude he should be proud of who he is and she in fact works with a guy who just split with his partner. The fact is, women practice group peeing to tell each other about feelings. Well, not being one to cruse ladies’s bathooms, I can tell you I have learned about what women do in the privy from various television shows and movies depicting women gabbing about feelings and relationships while taking a whiz. So if i'm off the mark, don't blame me, blame Sex And The City.

The whole thing about men not going to the bathroom in groups boils down to the fact that while women will go into the lou and gab while they are doing all sorts of unseemly business , men do not like to share their feelings. They will not tell one of their buddies that they feel _________ unless that blank is “I feel we need to kick the shit out of Nebraska", or what ever team the guys love to hate.

The whole thing about guys burying their feelings all goes back to our tribal beginnings. They were called hunter/gathers, not pussy/gatherers. And I say this not in the sense of gathering pussy. (Which would be a noble enough end if you don’t mind taking the risk of HAGS. And I’m not talking about older women dying their hair and hanging out for younger men. BTW, HAGS is herpes, Aids, gonorrhea, syphilis, the four horsemen of the clap.) No, we need to go back about 10,000 years. Let’s make it 10,002 years to avoid copyright infringement. Pussy/Gatherers would be if the hunter was not a cold hearted killer who let the poor animal go after chasing it for a whole day. It’s cute! Men can’t share feelings at risk the tribe perceiving him as a pussy and kicking his ass to the curb. Well, to the dirt outside the hut, that is.

There is one exception to the men not going to the bathroom in pairs. Men like to pee together in the outdoors. And ladies, you may not understand how this works, but what you do whip out your johnson and you make your stream go as far as possible. If if goes eight feet, well, great, but nine is better! This group peeing in the outdoors also goes back to the hunter/gatherer past. You see after chasing the poor animal for a day or so, once the poor cute thing succumbed to exhaustion  and the kill was made it was time to take five for a bathroom break.  There was a communal “Aaahh!” As the hunters whipped their johnsons, wait whipped their flogs out and in a semi-circle let the communal peeing commence.

But the fact remains that men are now living in a modern world and do not need to be the cold blooded killer Ooog was when chasing down a deer. But before we move on, picture Ooog standing triumphantly over his killed deer, when suddenly Kwaag shows up and tells Ooog that he has been chasing the deer for the last day and the kill is his. Ooog and Kwaag are about to devolve another ten thousand and one years (when a tough bastard was really a tough bastard) and fight to the death over the kill when Flog shows up. He advises Ooog that he has seen the whole thing and he will vouch for him for one third of the antelope. I know this is a bit of tangent, but I thought it would be nice to see the birth of the legal profession.

But anyway, why are men still so primitive when working with feeling? Well, some of us are. There are a few of us who don’t need to take the class. Woody Allen is exempt for all the mamby pamby movies he shows. Alan Alda is exempt for all the mamby pamby movies he stars in. But piling up on Woody Allen, et. al is old hat from the eighties. I sajd why are we still primitive in our feelings? Well, I guess it all boils down to you can take Ooog out of the hunt, but you can’t take the hunt out of Ooog.

What we need to do is figure out how to get men sharing their feelings together to end the divide between male life expectancy and female life expectancy. And I’m going to discount the theory men just die early to get away from their wives. So instead of looking at cheerleaders during timeouts at a football game, from now on men should talk.

“Hey Kwaag, how’s it going at work? Is Flog still working you to the bone?”

“Yeah,” Ooog says, “I’m gonna kill that bastard!”

Well, I guess talking about our feelings is a 50/50 proposition. Whether it works all depends on if you are Ooog, Kwaag or Flog; who as we see is soon bound for another world.

So, on second thought, let’s keep the cheerleaders and the Playboy centerfolds, etc., because no matter what there’s always going to be some bastard like Flog making us die before our years. We may as well enjoy them while we can.