I can’t say I’ve peed on the Benjamin Franklin statue at Penn, but I can say I’ve urinated on the Benjamin Franklin statue at Penn. Thank you, Miss Katie, for teaching me about using scientific language, even though I raised my dactylion at you so many times.
While preparing for the endeavor, I decided I needed three things: a funnel, because I lost my… “equipment” while reviewing a crocodile’s bathroom uninvited, a pair of roller blades for transportation, and a photo of my wife, so if I got caught I could hold it in front of my face and get her arrested instead.
I got to the bench later that night, making sure to avoid walking over the compass. (I’m not scared of failing a midterm, by the way; I already did that twice in every class I ever took. I’m just allergic to compasses.) I removed the plastic funnel from my trousers, and pointed it at the immortal man, inventor of the hundred dollar bill, in front of me. As I started to let loose, something strange happened. Due to the sheer force of my urination, the funnel came off my body and formed a loop -- the pee never stopped flowing. I had captured perpetual motion. I sold it later that night to Elon Musk for seventy million dollars.
I am thus writing this review from my new 27-bathroom mansion. I now live a life of ease, with access to some of the world’s finest bathrooms. Though I know I am a very fortunate man, I do sometimes wonder if true happiness would have come from peeing on the statue that night.