Devices are distinguished from huggies und uzzer absorbent vareables. YAH!
Der Inner Schleefe - ist tapered und may need trimming to obtain a goot fit. Der objecteef ist to haf it be tight enoof to create ein seal behind der glans. Vunce penetration ist achiefed, de design of "the jock" (the elastic waistband) keeps it in place. Und der waistband fit VEEERRRY schnugly on mein 48" vaist, but it fits.
Der Inner Schleefe
McGuire Style - who ist dis McGuire persons?
Via Amazon as: DMI men's urinal
The one on the left, the unisex one, worked now and then, but I had to pull my testicles outside the device and wedge the side of it into the side of my groin to create a seal. If I lay on my back the seal broke and it leaked. Likewise if I turned on my other side; I had to move it over and hope to create a seal. More often than not, it didn't work. It looks as if it would work for a woman.
I had high hopes for the one on the right as it looked more "ergonomic." Unfortunately, I was unable to figure out how to secure it tightly against my groin and it just wouldn't stay on. Plus, the band that secures the upper cloth part goes around close to my navel. My stomach is so huge there's no way it'd stay in place...there's not enough flat surface.
Lastly, I'm of average size and found the opening to be tight. A small dose of lubricant facilitated.
It's amazing, isn't it, what there is to discover?
"Olde age ain't for sissies," she said. "I'm in trouble," I rejoined.
After the night of hell, I recalled reading about catheters for men who were allergic to the adhesive; they were held on with a belt.
The incontinence has been coming on for some time (there's a suspicion of prostate cancer) and as the "urge" grew increasingly unanticipatable I added Simply Orange bottles to each of the vehicles in the fleet.
Now that it's a known entity at night, I made some modifications at the top and with the addition of velcro straps and a borrowed shoulder strap from a gym bag....voila! New meaning to the phrase: Strap-On!
The geometries are such it obviated the washcloths and MAYBE even the puppy pads.
One night of hell was all I could stand.
Wrangling the incontinence, I went to the Linda Vista Campground on New Mexico highway 4 where I knew I'd have a water supply for cleaning up and washing soiled clothes.
The cottonwoods had just leafed out. That's the Jemez River.
Had to change out the Paw Pad closest to muh penis; hit whar soaked. Leaky li'l devil. Tha's the problem these days.
Ah tooken a couple uh sleep aids since ah dun bin up mostuh the night. Fortunately, Ms. Cook dohn git free 'til round one o'clock....long 'bout the time ah'll be straightenin' muh tie...cuz, you know, "ev'ry gurl crazy 'bout a sharp-drest man."
Ah'm countin' on awl you new Psuedo Instergram readers tuh hit that thar do-nay-shun button in the upper right tuh he'p with awl these 'spences ah've had thiz past week.
Many thanks to those who've given so generously. You know who you are. We're committed to your anonymity to preserve you from the relentless horde of professional beggars.
3 a.m. Diaper Change.
Pretension is purposely misspelled in the title to grab the attention of those (few) who actually KNOW how it's spelled; it's a ploy.
Sort of like: "It's a Carrot," but different.
For those closely following, I had cut Paw Pads (brand) absorbent pads into washcloth-size squares. This 3 a.m. change involved replacing those rather than the actual diaper.
The diaper, in the upper left, is from the 2a.m. change. The blue squares are the non-absorbent side of the cut up Paw Pads (product placement photo to come).
Michelle had the Paw Pads left over from a cat that preferred to pee outside the box. Knowing my creative brilliance, she thought I might be able to fold them into a type of cap that would absorb the excess juices from my brain.
(I KNOW thousands are benefiting from my experience and creative problem-solving. It gives meaning to my life.....NOT)
And don't be ashamed of those $500.00 donations. I know it can seem embarassing in these times of multi-mega millions easily being raked in by early investors in the pot business. But they add up. Any amt appreciated. đŸ¥°
And just think of the poor souls who got 40-years-to life in Georgia & Tennessee back in the '70s & '80s for dealing an ounce.
My 1st wife's ex spent 1972-1976 (four years!!!) in a Tennessee penitentory for two joints.
