The Tree Pee for Ladies

The Basics of Bush Peeing

The Basics of Bush Squatting

(Lady leisure GOES where most people won’t. Giving you the inappropriate and uncomfortable topics you want. And need. Similar to TMZ or Fox News, except she’s not a vulture and people seem to like her.)

Last week, I was “on the road” with Jack, observing his workers and conducting some important safety shit. On the road sounds like either a fun road trip or playing in traffic. These are almost true, but there’s no Taylor Swift tunes, rest stops, or signs warning motorists to “Give Our Kids a Brake“. Naturally, you may conclude that a pregnant woman cannot “hold it” for 13-14 hours straight. Nature MUST call, and she does so approximately every 2 hours. To the single ladies, married ladies, or even “it’s complicated” ones, this one’s for you.

Bush squatting can be a dangerous task.  Although it has been around for centuries, if you don’t pay attention you could just not make it out of the woods alive, or worse – with pee on you. Here are the basics for a successful tree pee:

1. Mentally prepare for your heroic journey.

2. Don’t forget some form of wiping accessory. Tuck it into your pocket or shirt sleeve.

3.  When you think you are out of male eyeshot, walk two metres deeper into the forest.

4. WATCH your step. Wildlife share your el baño.

5. Warm up your quads, or recruit a tree to pull you back out of your squat.

6. Widen your stance and find a mossy area to avoid splash-back or direct hits to your pant leg.

7. Evaluate: celebrate successes, and create an action plan for future journeys.

By the end of our road trip I was going in the steep ditch with no tree cover while Jack looked on with horror. What? Sometimes, you have to scrap the basics and improvise.

Lady Leisure: going where most people won’t.

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Outies Ain’t “In”

Jewel encrusted chunk of metal

Jewel encrusted chunk of metal that was once a bunch of shirt lint.

The belly button or tummy button: a part also known as the navel. The latter being a word I only use to describe oranges.

The belly button begins as the umbilical cord- the ultimate lifeline between mother and fetus in the womb through which nutrients and blood are circulated. After birth, the remainder of the cord simply turns black and falls off (gross) and what is left is no longer a functional body part, aside from inadmissible, yet inevitable lint storage.

My 18 month old niece is able to point out her belly button, and if you aren’t careful she will lift your shirt and reveal a not so young and cute, and perhaps slightly furrier version.

When I was a young “skinny b!tch”, my belly button was almost flush with my abdomen rather than indented. My sister once rattled my chains for this and I never understood why having an “innie” or an “outie” had any relevancy. . . until my sister got her belly button pierced. I slowly came to the realization that the belly button had some apparent functional sex appeal. A sexy, colorful jewel encrusted chunk of metal that was once a bunch of shirt lint.

Now that I’m finely aged, I get it. Belly buttons are not at all sexy and they serve no purpose. Additionally, it’s not funny when someone puts their finger in there by accident or by 18-month-old curiosity. It feels weird, like someone is touching your spine from the inside.

My belly is getting HUGE (in a skinny b!tch kind of way). Not only does my tailbone hurt, because I’m sure the baby’s head is the size of the moon, and I can feel my uterus stretching and contracting, but my belly button is dangerously close to becoming an “outie”. This could be the end of the world. The only “outie” I can imagine myself being OK with is of the car variety (Audi).

Simply put: Outies are “out” and innies are “in”.