The one time I really yearn for a penis of my own is when I have to give a urine sample, eh.

    This morning was one of those times.

    I've decided to get a big time check-up done for a number of reasons. For one thing, I'm getting older than dirt. For another, come next fall I'm going to plonk myself down on the other side of the planet and I'm thinking that maybe it would be a good idea to make sure all major body parts are firmly attached.

    Imagine how embarrassing it would be to be walking somewhere in Oz and have an arm fall off or a major organ plop on the sidewalk. Precautions must be taken.

    And thus I found myself in the tiny, antiseptic bathroom of a community clinic clutching an impossibly small urine specimen jar and trying to figure out exactly how I was going to direct my golden goodies into said jar.

    Oh, and I was incredibly cranky because I was also having blood tested and so I couldn't eat anything after 7 p.m. last night. I was mucking around the garden, lost track of the time and didn't come in until 7:30. So on top of having a bursting bladder, and a thimble sized urine specimen jar to fill, I also had a tummy that was growling the 1812 Overture because I hadn't eaten anything since lunch.

    I won't go into the gory details. Let's just say that I feel MarnCo should be marketing the Portable Pocket Penis for moments such as this.

    Imagine the informercial for THAT puppy, eh.