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'To initiate guys into our soccer club, the first eleven would all piss into a bucket, throw one cleat into it for each guy trying out, and then the new guys would bob for a cleat one at a time. The year I bobbed in the piss there were sixteen of us trying out for the team and I called shotgun on going first because I don't like spit. You know how when you bobbed for apples when you were a kid, and the bucket-water gets all spitty after the third or fourth kid? Basically it's the same thing here. It seemed wise at the time.

Three of us met up in the basement of one of our houses the night before, we were going to practise bobbing in piss in a smaller bucket. We wanted to look tough in front of the older guys and we figured if we were used to it, we could grab our cleat and toss out a great line though our clenched teeth. We came up with stuff like, 'Hey, which one of you has the clap?' and 'Someone jerked-off in there, forget about it, I think I got all', we thought we were hilarious.

Robbie, my best friend, said after he went he was going to get in the back of the line and go twice; we loved it. We knew for sure those guys would hear our tough-guy talk, see our flexed jaws and for sure would think we were stone killers. We never got around to practising with live piss but after talking about it all night we figured we were good to go.

Real early the morning before the tryout was the real thing. All sixteen of us lined up single file along the bench facing the line of the first eleven who were squirming from holding it all morning. The bucket was steaming from the cold as they passed it from hand to hand and they all took a good squirt right in front of us.

Next it was our turn. We stuck our open mouths and shut eyes in the bucket one guy at a time and we all pulled out a cleat with our teeth just like we were supposed to. Every one of us puked our guts up after, nobody said anything tough-guy, and Robbie never got back in line like he said. Still, we felt pretty damn hard after that, and later we confirmed that we didn't want to waste our good material on the guys on our own team, save it for the enemy. The bunch of us that made the team that year stayed tight long after that, me and Robbie even had lunch pretty regular up until last spring when he retired.

So here's the thing - I got a note from Robbie's daughter, Katelyn, a mass email, says Robbie passed away. Says he had a heart attack or something, I didn't get much past the first few sentences, I couldn't do it, scared to know. But it brought me right back that day staring down into that bucket full of piss and cleats. So I get up and leave my office, tell my girl to hold my calls for a while. Next thing I know, I'm here in the mens' room with my face in an unflushed urinal tasting piss on my lips for the second time in my life. I'm crying for my good pal Robbie and I still have my dripping dick in my hand, all I can think about is us bobbing for those cleats in that hot bucket of piss in the cold. Yeah, I guess that's right about when you walked in.'

Date Written: January 21, 2005
Author: TheBuyer
Average Vote: 4.31818

Comments:
02/1/2005 Streifenbeuteldachs (4): 3.5, I'm feeling generous. I loved the rampant piss imagery. I'm wondering if this is a Brooklinian short, or a parody of one? I feel like it's Slocum's, for some reason.
02/1/2005 John Slocum (4): like this short alot. Don't care so much for the last paragraph. The final addressing of someone as 'you' was abrupt in a way that diminished the storytelling. Also, something unbelievable about the guy going to put his mouth in a urinal.

I just thought of my cousin who played rugby at northeastern university. He told me about the 'anal boot' initiation of new guys on the team. Basically, when a new player scored his first Try in a match, at the party that night he had to drink what the lads refered to as the 'anal boot.' Basically, the frosh, who would be forbidden from showering after the match, would drop his pants/underwear, bend slightly at the waist and some senior member of the team would pour a beer onto the small of his back. The beverage would run through his sweat-laden crack, across his ring-piece, splash over his balls and fall into the frosh's rugby boot (worn in the match earlier that day, of course), lovingly held underneath his balls to capture the beer. The frosh would then, as you've all guessed, drink the beer directly from the boot, The Anal Boot.

Man I wish I had played rugby at northeastern university.
02/1/2005 The Rid (4): Funny, but the last graf is weak. 3.89 rounded up.
02/1/2005 qualcomm (4): i think it's only the last sentence that ruins it. the image of the dude giving himself a weepy urine facial for old time's sake rang true to me, in a cliche, this-is-what-happens-in-literary-fiction sort of way. the final line made too much of a joke out of it, draining some "sentiment" away. not sure if it'd be a five for me without it, but still, it is in error.
02/1/2005 Mr. Pony (4): The boys are right about that last sentence. Man.
02/1/2005 Ewan Snow: Yeah, the last line was a little jokey for this fellow. I mean, I like jokey, but I'd already settled into the rhythm of a "real" story. Nonetheless, I have found that if I hold my thumb over the last sentence, it is a quite enjoyable short.

This story reminded me of this guy who was telling me about what they do to freshman on his field hockey team. Itís called Diarrhea Kilt. See, after the first match where the frosh scores a goal...

Also, anybody want to argue? I feel sort of, you know, bored with nothing to argue about. I guess itís like a soldier who just wants to get back in the shit.


02/1/2005 Ewan Snow (5):
02/1/2005 qualcomm: your child is unintelligent.
02/1/2005 Ewan Snow: No, sir! Hey, Pony, there are absolutes in the universe. Tons of them!
02/1/2005 qualcomm: baby einstein. more like baby gillooly.
02/1/2005 Mr. Pony: Really, Snow? Name one for us.
02/1/2005 Ewan Snow: Oh, yeah, then how come he can count to five? Huh, smart guy? That's advanced maths for a one year old!
02/1/2005 Ewan Snow: Okay, how about absolute zero? That's you -- an absolute zero! Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!
02/1/2005 Mr. Pony: That's fantastic, Snow. I'm proud of both you and your boy. Why are you telling me there are absolutes in the Universe?
02/1/2005 Mr. Pony: Although I can probably guess. Did you and qualcomm get together yesterday to make up over a Grolsch, and did he do that thing he accused you of doing yesterday; completely misrepresenting one of my arguments to make me look foolish and easy to defeat?
02/1/2005 qualcomm: nope. so you're wrong, you jerk.
02/1/2005 Mr. Pony: Then I'm stumped! Why this out of the blue Chall‚ng ad Absurdum from Snow?
02/1/2005 Ewan Snow: Thanks, pony, I'm proud of him too! As for "absolutes", I was just making fun of how you always champion the relativistic side of an argument, as opposed to qc, who sees all issues as strict black and white. But I guess that would be a too clear-cut way of describing you relativism; it's so relative it doesn't even rule out absolutes!
02/1/2005 Ewan Snow: Dude, I was just joking, cuz below I said I wanted an argument... Sheesh, what's a guy gotta do?
02/1/2005 Mr. Pony: I never realized why qualcomm always has so much trouble understanding relativistic arguments! It's because he can only see them in absolute terms! That's why whenever he feeds them back to me, they sound like total nonsense! His coin-flip brain is actually incapable of seeing and describing the gray area between the absolutes! I'm so excited. Thank you for this insight, Snow.
02/1/2005 Phony Millions (4): I liked this short. I like what everyone seemed to like - the actual real sentiment to it even though it's funny. Okay Ewan, here's fighting words: YOU'RE GETTING PATHETIC! And, my child can count to fourteen, and she finds "Baby Einstein" passe. Get hip to Dora Explora motha.
02/1/2005 qualcomm: i can understand relativistic arguments, pony. i just can't fathom why you gave women's basketball 1 star for purely political reasons.
02/1/2005 Phony Millions: It's just that it's more fun to be absolute, Qualcomm. If everyone cites the relativity of everything, you can never get your polemic on.
02/1/2005 John Slocum: Hey snow, how bout this for an argument: The Anal Boot kicks ass over the Diarrhea Kilt.
02/1/2005 Jon Matza: Here's something absolute: we're all going to die one day. Today, to be specific.
02/1/2005 Mr. Pony: I know why you say stuff like that now, qualcomm! I've figured you out! X in any corner box! Hooray!
02/1/2005 Ewan Snow: Okay, Brad, let's get this sraight. My kid doesn't watch Baby Einstein. That's qc talking. Glad we hashed this out. I agree with your other point, citing the relativity of stuff sure kills an argument. As for being pathetic, you try siting in front of a computer all day, pretending to do work for months on end, and see how cool your posts are!
02/1/2005 qualcomm: oh come on, pony. can anyone really "know" anything?
02/1/2005 Mr. Pony: It depends on your definition of 'know'!
02/1/2005 Mr. Negative: What jerk wrote this? It was great until that last line. Nice way to turn a well thought out piece of shortness into horseshit in under 10 seconds. Ass.
02/1/2005 anonymous: Thanks Mr. Negative!
02/1/2005 qualcomm: let's talk about your definition of 'know' instead.
02/1/2005 Litcube (5): I don't see the problem with that last sentence. At all. Furthermore, I liked the short as a whole. Great rhythm, funny gags. 4.5.
02/1/2005 Mr. Pony: Why would we do that? You brought it up. Why are you unsure of the quality of your own definition? I'm sure it's fine!
02/1/2005 qualcomm: other than the last sentence, i don't think there were any "gags," litdude. that's what we're saying.
02/1/2005 Litcube: The end of the 2nd paragraph, I thought, was funny. A gag? No? Am I G-Holing?
02/1/2005 John Slocum: Snow, the Anal Boot...better than the Diarrhea Kilt by a long shot.
02/1/2005 qualcomm: pony, why are you sticking pencils up your nose? huh? why are you doing that? that's weird! how come you're on the phone with me now telling me how wrong you know you are?! that is also weird! huh! wow! how come you're doing whatever i type as soon as the words appear on the screen?
02/1/2005 TheBuyer: Lit3- The tough guy lines, and the "I don't like spit" are funny, but not gags per se because they're not suprising, out of context, or jokey. The whole deal that this guy is relating his story to some guy who caught him crying in the toilet is a gag. If it was a KITH bit, the camera would have moved from the narrator to the second guy right there. Dig?
02/1/2005 Mr. Pony: qualcomm, please don't get so upset. Why are you so upset? I suppose it doesn't matter. I think it would be good for you to keep a cooler head next time, and not let your emotions make you act so crazy. I think it would lend an air of credibility to the things you say. Don't you think?
02/1/2005 Litcube: By definition a gag doesn't have to be surprising. How is that line not jokey? It's a humour effect, therefore a gag. Or, I'm G-Holing still.
02/1/2005 Ewan Snow: Hey, Lit, I think the distinction being made is that in the context of the story, those lines are not supposed to be funny in and/or of themselves. They are told in a sort of realistic context, relating jokes that the narrator thought were funny when younger. They're not so much jokes, as the description of, or the telling about, attempted jokes. The last sentence, however, is a gag at the story level, and so is different.
02/1/2005 TheBuyer: Are you playing, "What, I can't hear you"?
02/1/2005 Litcube: Was that question aimed at me, Buyer?
02/1/2005 Jawbreaker (4): Athletic initiations are always great!
02/1/2005 qualcomm: oh, hey, pony, i'm just mellowing. just like you, guy. cool as a cucumber. what's wrong with you, though? i mean, why do you think i'm upset? you must be really upset to be thinking that. why don't you calm down? what's the matter? no one's going to give you any credit if you say everything whilst brandishing a baseball bat. just a little friendly advice.
02/1/2005 TheBuyer: Licube, it was, I thought you were trying to unscrew the top of my head on purpose. I was actually wondering if spending all that time with Yahzick lately bent/warped you at all; he likes to play the "what" game. Also, he likes to play the "innapropriate touching" game...jesus I wish I was joking.
02/1/2005 Litcube: No, sir, I am genuinely retarded. My thanks, you three, for the polite and patient explanations.
02/1/2005 anonymous: Wow a genuine retard. First one on acme.
02/1/2005 anonymous: hardly
02/1/2005 anonymous: Hey, I didn't make that comment about retards, there have been TONS of retards on this site. Who the fuck hijacked my account? Seriously. DISNEY!!!!
02/1/2005 anonymous: Yeah Who the fuck hijacked my account. Also I am not as gay as litcube says I am.
02/1/2005 TheBuyer: No one is as gay as Litcube says they are. How the hell did you know that? Mom?
02/1/2005 TheBuyer: Litcube get out of my house.
02/1/2005 Jon Matza: I see merit in this "piece" but didn't get much pleasure out of it. I realize this is more a failing on my part than the short's, though. I will therefore graciously withhold my three. You can thank me later.
02/1/2005 Litcube: Wait -- How did he know that, Buyer? Wait -- you scoff at my accuracy?
02/1/2005 TheBuyer: I was trying to blame Yahzick for things he didn't do again (he would have gotten that 'no one is' reference) before I figured out it was Cyrus pounding out bland homophobe comments in my name from my old desk.
02/2/2005 Pix (5): I don't see a problem with the last line at all. A perfect 5, and no I'm not biased. This is the best thing he has written for awhile. Good Job!
02/1/2007 Yahzick (4.5): I like this short becasue my brother wrote it and I'm in the comments. Also, I genuinely thought it was funny. A lot of the time conversational tones piss me off by trying to sound too conversational / real, thereby ruining the effect. This one touched on that a little bit but I still found the story engaging. And the last line really helped out becasue I was trying to figure out why there was an quotations-marks at the start and that explained it.