Go Girl No Girl

Long before BlogHer, someone forwarded me some sort of GoGirl email. My coworkers and I read and re-read, RIVETED. Who needs to pee standing up? Why can't you just hover, or pop a squat in the woods? AND what do you DO with it? And. AND AND AND. And SQUICK.

Anyways, that was a couple months ago.

THEN, I met a nice GoGirl hawking lady at BlogHer who was like camping! Skiing! A variety of situations where I'd just as soon not stand and pee! And then she mentioned gross port-a-potties where even hovering sort of lands you too close The Yuck, and I was like, yeah, and maybe if I'm ever in a whore house in Mexico, but how many times can that happen? I think I've maxed out with the once.
So I took the nice lady's pee-contraption and I took it back to California where it lived on my kitchen counter for four days. And then I moved. Stella came down to help because she's lovely that way, and I showed it to her, and she declared that it MUST BE TESTED. And then she packed it into her purse.
And then she got it out at the bar and showed it to everyone.
And then we all posed inappropriately with it.









And then I had to pee, and I took it with me (And yes, it had been fondled by other people but yknow what? That kind of thing just doesn't gross me out, Julia I'm sorry).
So.
I followed the instructions.
And I mean.
I'd been drinking.
But not so much that the instructions escaped me.
And let me just tell you something: PEE DOWN MY LEG MOTHERFUCKER and I have friends in the bathroom with me and I'm screaming ABORT ABORT ABORT at the top of my lungs (because apparently THAT'S what you do when you get piss on your leg?) and they are laughing. Hysterically. And I throw the thing in the toilet because OH MY GOD. And then I do that THING THAT I'M USED TO DOING where I hover over the motherfucking toilet and I pee like a god damned girl, and JESUS CHRIST I HAVE URINE ON MY PANTS AND I AM NOT INTOXICATED ENOUGH TO HAVE URINE ON MY PANTS AND HAVE THAT BE OKAY. THIS IS NOT OKAY. So Stella buys four drinks instead of two and spills two down my front to neutralize the fact that I'm covered in piss but you know what? I still knew. Bastards.

So that was a fail.

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Do I really need a disclosure? I didn't pay for it. And um....yeah. Also I wrote a review over here. And I wrote this last week. If you're interested.