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There was this dancer I knew who used to pee in a paper cup and throw it off the Brooklyn Bridge for good luck. It worked sometimes and one time in particular it worked fairly well. She left her desk and in the coffee room she very carefully let this guy named Gerald remove her panties and hold the cup. He always looked her right in the eye instead of where she thought he would look but he was a perverse dude so she would have to hold his arm just right to get the pee to fall into the cup. He never smiled or anything. He took her quest for good luck seriously, he told her. He did. So then this one particular time on her break she walked past that old Catholic Church with the cemetery and through that cute little park with the flowers and the monument and she smiled at the people who liked to look at her and her dancer legs. Someone even asked her this time what was in that little cup she held and she said her good luck pee. He smiled. He probably thought of a garden terrace with tomatoes and peas and peppers, not some ritualistic ghost of a golden shower in a coffee room on the 109th floor of one of the twin towers. You guessed it. As her pee trailed through the wind and salty air and tickled the cheek of a deck hand who was struggling to look up the short dress of a dancer shit happened and shortly those towers were gone.

Date Written: May 12, 2006
Author: pasty
Average Vote: 3.5

05/12/2006 Will Disney: welcome to acmeshorts!
05/12/2006 scoop: Too soon.
05/12/2006 Mr. Pony: Pretty early in the morning to be taking a break, wouldn't you say, Eliza?
05/12/2006 Litcube: Oh, dear. As a Canadian among New Yorkers, I feel reluctant to vote on this.
05/12/2006 anonymous: As a Canadian among New Yorkers, wow, that just hit me how important this site really is, how you might be compelled not to vote. You know, you've changed my life with that statement. You've changed my perception of Canadians, New Yorkers, pee. Everything.
05/12/2006 Litcube: Hey, sweet!
05/12/2006 TheBuyer: Is this a serious thread, because I think Litcube has serious trepedation. He shouldn't, because the last sentence of this short wounds it beyond all coherence and likeablility, but that's not how feelings work.
05/12/2006 TheBuyer: Also, I love pee shorts, they're my favorite.
05/12/2006 Litcube: I have serious trepedation.
05/12/2006 Litcube: [sic]
05/12/2006 TheBuyer: ya dude, I know. totally sic
05/12/2006 Mr. Pony: pasty, why don't you talk about what you feel is important, and we'll see what sort of effect that has on all of us. You know, all of us who continue to read but have ceased commenting for three separate (but equal) reasons.
05/12/2006 Mr. Pony (3): Anyway.
05/13/2006 pasty: well, I suppose, Mr. Pony. I'm an impressionist in the real world and don't feel any inclination to create anything that doesn't cause at a minimum trepidation, at a maximum, mental discomfort, these shorts bring out the worst in me, I'm certain, as there's very little time in that ever closing space to make that impression I would like to make.
05/13/2006 Mr. Pony: That's a pretty awesome use of the word "impressionist". Welcome to Acme!
05/14/2006 Master Bates (4): now yer talkin'