We all have them.
This raging beast that slumbers deep within us… waiting for the one moment it can break free of the chains of common sense, intelligence, and in some cases, being a decent human being that binds them deep down in their dark dark hole. But they’re there. Waiting. Waiting to be released.
A prime example of this would be people who RAGE when they are hungry. They could be warm and friendly most of the time, but once hunger hits, BAM! RAGE BEAST ASSUMES ITS ULTIMATE FORM!
I know a few who suffer from this (most likely a few reading this right now [HI! YES, I’M TALKING ABOUT YOU!]). Their beast is nothing compared to mine. I know, I know. I’m the nicest, sweetest, most lovable person in the entire world… most of the time.
Until she strikes. My internal rage monster. Urina. Yes. Urina.
I, my friends, suffer from pee rage. Not just any old pee rage either. Complete and utter nonsensical, murderous rage, only brought forth when I have to pee.
If I’m in a car and have to pee, you better hope to fucking God that I am the driver. If not, prepare yourself for the onslaught or random bullshit insults that will come out of my mouth, directed at anyone and everyone.
If we’re on an especially long stretch of road, and even if I’m the driver, you’re not safe. URINA WILL STRIKE. Seriously, no one is safe.
That’s right. She’s rude, and cruel and
super fucking slightly racist. Please note
that THIS is what’s happening on the inside when she strikes:
I’d take the hunger beast over Urina any day.