Hm, heavens, what is this?  That liter of fruity beverage I so quickly consumed at tonight's soiree has gone through me faster than a jackrabbit on fire.  To the lavatory I'll go,  to relieve my urgencies and return to the dancefloor.  Ah good, a comfortable commode to accommodate my cultured hind-quarters.  If I may be so bold to say, any gentleman of comfort and style would be remiss not to sit down each time for number one!  Simply put, it is the choice of civilized men.

Now, while a majority of men might line up like a chorus of dancers to empty themselves into a urinal or – shudder! - a piss trough, that does not mean it is the right choice.  The fact that few men would sit down to relieve themselves, much less admit to it, only solidifies the act as trendy and fresh (fresher than those urinal cakes anyway!).  A new trail blazen is often a lonely one, as well, but it's a path I'll gladly take for comfort and cleanliness.  Now, will you please refill the loo tissue?  I like to dab at the end, thank you very much.

It is true that under certain situations, upright evacuation is allowed and even preferred.  Outdoor activities such as camping, hiking or fox-hunting rarely have available facilities.  Obviously, emergencies take precedence as well, such as during the 6th hour of highway driving with no off ramp in sight.  Here, a dark underpass or field of soybeans is allowable under exceptions of etiquette.  These examples, however, are few and far between and cannot stand against the littany of evidence supporting the stance of reclined renal refuse removal.

As we sit here in quiet peace and solitude upon this porcelain throne, let us first contemplate the male form.  I'll use a simple analogy so as to not offend the female sex: consider watering your flower pots.  You would not hold the hose or watering can high above the pots, splashing plant and soil into a muddy mess that flies everywhere, onto the tile floor and all over your nice new chinos.  Similarly, it makes little sense to take a tool so perfectly evolved as the male genitalia and have it going all over the place, with little a whim to the consequences.

Instead, take that tool and control it.  The hose is presented directly to the pot, where the water flows serenely into the soil and your petunias are left undisturbed.  Further, who would stand to water their flowers when they could sit instead?  What if the flowers could genially water themselves while you perused a June 1999 copy of Newsweek?  I find it hard to believe you could turn down that fine offer, sir.

It's elementary, really: peeing while standing up is both uncouth and disgusting.  The habit has made a mockery of the public restroom, and has made it all but impossible to wear sandals to a sporting event.  If all men would wise up and follow my good advice we could forever put to rest the oft-heard excuse of “Oh, that? No, that's some water I splashed accidentally on myself whilst washing my hands.  Really!”

Never again would a slovenly restroom neighbor misaim and cause dreaded splash contamination, leaving you to desperately convice yourself that “it only got on my leg hair, it didn't actually touch skin.”

And finally, no man would ever again head to the couch for a night of restless tossing and turning because, for the 183,423rd time, he forgot to put the seat down.  Men, the choice is clear!

Please heed my advice and try to – excuse me, it seems I have to run to the bathroom for a moment!  Would you be a dear and pass me my crocheting kit?  I'd like to get some work done on that afghan while I'm in there.

Wait a minute, hold up. I'm actually having this conversation? No. No way. This is the dumbest argument ever.

Listen to me, frisbee man. Who pees sitting down? Who? Tell me who pees sitting down. Women, that's who. Women and Communists. Girly, girly communists.

OK, look, don't get me wrong, I don't mean to be misogynistic or anything. But seriously, though. Sitting down. Sitting down? I'm sorry, I'm still incredulous.

Look, we as dudes have...equipment. That equipment was designed by God or Allah or nature or Hewlett Packard or whoever to operate is such a way that we can relieve ourselves without having to suffer the indignity of sitting down. Sitting down is a weakling's pursuit. No lumberjack worth his weight in Douglas firs chops down trees sitting down. Did Neil Armstrong sit down on the moon? No, dammit. He stood up. He stood up and took some manly-ass steps. Why, I'm standing up as I'm typing this right now. Where's my computer chair, you ask? It's over in the corner, under the pile of carcasses of elk and cattle rustlers and terrorists that I've slaughtered with my bare hands, because I'm a dude.

We're men. We're troopers. We have big strong legs built for two things: (1) taking down the mighty woolly mammoth, and (2) peeing standing up. Oh, and speaking of the mighty woolly mammoth, how do you think our gritty, kickass ancestors took down those giant manly killbeasts? They stood up, thank you very much, and they aimed their spears at those giant f***ing bastards from gritty masculine standing positions. Did they sit down on top of the mammoths and drop their spears on them from above, like sissy spear-dropping girls? That's just crazy talk, Frenchy, and I'm not gonna have any part of it.

Besides, man, why oh why would you take all the fun away from peeing? You know those urinals at bars that they fill with ice and so it's fun because you pee and they melt? You pee sitting down, you totally miss out. (Seriously, girls, it's like the most fun thing ever. Ever.) And that game where you nail a cigarette butt in the toilet with your stream and try to maneuver it under a floating piece of toilet paper? There isn't a more satisfying feeling in the known universe, and I will defend that right with my life, Sally. Standing up, mind you.

And I haven't even gotten to the actual sanitary concerns with sitting down. Anybody here ever take seventh grade health? There's all sorts of bacteria and viruses and jerky microscopic dicks hanging out on toilet seats that are just waiting to jump onto your behind and ruin your life. You know what kind of crazy gross diseases you can get when you sit down? Let's see, there's syphillis and the clap and gonorrhea and crabs and genital warts and yellow fever and ricketts and a worse kind of syphillis where it goes up to your brain and makes you crazy like I saw on Law and Order. Do you want that for yourself? Do you? I don't think so. I don't need that kind of hassle messing up my manly manly standing-up lifestyle.

You, madam, can pee sitting down while you listen to Lifehouse and watch The Notebook. Me and the rest of the great big brotherhood of men (we're the guys that don't have the Oxygen channel piped into our crappers), we'll gladly keep on trucking and keep on standing. The second you start sitting down to pee, that happy little guy hanging out down there might as well be your appendix.

Oh, and "blazen" isn't a word. Heathen.