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The Man-o-Pause Diaries
Stephen Hughes April 2025
Lets Talk Pish
As a gay man hurtling towards fifty quicker than a menopausal woman's short temper, I find myself getting more and more annoyed at the little things in life. Let’s talk pish. As I am reaching the half century I feel my bladder is returning to the infant stage, I can’t remember the last time I had a full night's sleep without that 3 am calling to empty my bladder. Maybe there is something in these adult nappies…
As a young boy potty training you are taught how and when to pee and get rewarded for it, and here is the reason why - you sit down on the potty to pee. Then as a right of passage like some primeval ritual you are taught how to pee standing up. Stand up pull it out and let the pish flow free. Sometimes your mum may even put a polo mint in the pan to help with aim. But here is the thing, for any non-penis owners, you never actually know if you are going to get the power hose, the sprinkler system or the dripping tap. It’s not something us men have control over, once the flow starts you are at the mercy of the sprinkler gods on how this is going to go. Power spray with good aim, no splash back and no excessive drippage. Sprinkler spray, where there is no control, complete splashback and it’s time to go home to change. Dripping tap when you get the drip drip drip, despite your prostate exercises and nearly pushing out a poo.
Then of course there is the other issue - most men think they own an anaconda when in reality it is more of a shrimp, and despite adolescent games of who can pee highest on the wall we are still unaware of how close we need to stand to the toilet. I think this is because man inches are a bit like gay age years. For your gay age, take your real age and deduct five to ten years depending on the minimal work you may or may not have had done on your face. The opposite applies to man inches, take your actual length and add two to four inches depending on who you are talking to and how good your aim is. And there are weather considerations to be taken into account here, if you penis owners have tried to take a pee outside in the middle of winter you will be very aware of dick shrinkage (which is a real thing). Then the hot weather when you literally are peeling your pants down and your appendage from your leg,
So here is my top tips - Back to the 3 am pish, always sit down, let’s face it you haven’t opened your eyes and despite owning your penis for nearly 50 years you are still unaware of exactly where it is in the dark. In fact now I think of it maybe men should always do a sit down wee, no splash back, no worry about the flow, no pish on the toilet seat. It doesn’t impact on your masculinity, who is there to see you? Unless you are at the communal pish trough but that’s a story for another day. And have a serious think about your length because let’s be honest no-one actually knew exactly what six inches was until the invention of Subway…
20s v 40s…by Paul McDougall
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It’s funny the things that change as you get older…
Some of the differences from being in your 20’s to being in your 40’s is frightening.
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One day you’re on multiple nights out per week, yes PER WEEK! And the next you’re on one night out PER YEAR!
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One day you’re sat in your pals house the morning after a night out totalling up how much you drunk and the next you’re never touching the stuff again.
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I hated those people who would remember everything they drank. “Oh last night I had 8 pints, 6 vodka and cokes, a Pina Colada, 4 whiskies, a Cava, a Prosecco, 4 shots of Sambuca (in the eye of course, do you remember that?) me “no? Wait, is that why I can only see out of on eye?!?. 17 bottles of VK blue, a bottle of Buckfast, a can of Hooch after I transported back to the early 90’s…oh and a shot of tequila from that Hen Doo that made me give them a fiver in exchange for a condom, an xxxxs condom. Charming. “What did you drink?” “I don’t remember, I was pished.”
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Some people got the fear after a night out, I never, I got regret. My regret was making all those plans at 4am in the morning in someone’s house with mainly people I didn’t know. “right lads, lets set the alarms for 7am right, we will get up, get showered and head out on that hike up that mountain, everyone in?” “absolutely”. Next thing I know I’m waking up in a bathtub in a strange bathroom and I start checking to make sure that I’ve not lost any organs.
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Those were the days though weren’t they? You could go out, go to work, go out, go to work, go out, go to work but not these days these youngsters can’t even handle one night out. It used to be on the young teams Facebook “here for a good time not a long time” now it’s “nah I’m going to the gym” THE GYM?!?! How dare these young people try and look after themselves and make themselves the best versions of themselves? They should be face down in a kebab wondering if they have any money left and who the person is next to them.
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But things are different now that I’m in my 40’s.
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For example see when I was in my 20’s and I used to go on walks with my pals we would all be chatting. When my pals chatted about birds they actually meant girls, but now that I’m in my 40’s when I’m out on a walk with my pals and they are chatting about birds they actually mean actual birds. “did you see that bird up there Paul? What is that? Is that an eagle? I think it’s an eagle, what do you think Paul?” “I don’t know, is it a sparra?” they just stare at me but I could not think of much worse thing to discuss, maybe golf.
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Another thing that’s changed is alcohol. See when I was in my 20’s it was about getting as much alcohol for as little money as possible and trying to get smashed on it. Two cases of Bier D’or out of Tesco for a tenner, sold. A bottle of vodka for a fiver, get that bought right now.
But nowadays… my pals have a different relationship with alcohol and I get to hear all about it. It’s now quality over quantity which I can get behind to a point. However, nowadays it’s all about the taste. My pals sat with a Pale Ale that’s been brewed through the arse of a fox and it’s called Peta Artois or something “Mmmmm that is so good, it’s really oaky, bit citrus-y don’t you think? You can get the flavours coming thro…” “Mate stop that, does it taste good? Yes? No? You’re not beers answer to Gordon Ramsay so stop it” “It’s a little bit oaky…” The anger rises.
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Or nightclubs! A place no one in their 40’s should be in, maybe if you’ve just went through a break up or something but otherwise what are you doing? I remember in my 20’s girls would indicate if they were interested by putting their hand on your backside (imagine doing that now?) to be fair nowadays I’d just presume they were trying to steal my wallet.
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Nightclubs always remind me of an animal documentary like something David Attenborough should be doing a voiceover too. All these young guys cutting about like peacocks trying to show who’s got the biggest and best feathers. Also, that’s when it becomes abundantly clear why women go to the toilet in pairs or groups because if one woman is left on her own the lions come out and start stalking, they are eyeing each other up ready to fight for a woman that would rather they just f’d off into next week. I always find the best time to leave a nightclub is when Justin Bieber comes on, in fact I sometimes ask the DJ to play Justin Bieber as soon as I arrive and then leave, haven’t even taken my jacket off. In your 20’s it’s the social event of the week; its somewhere single people think they are going to meet the love of their life (at 2am drunk) …
Then you blink and you’re in your 40’s and you can’t think of much worse. Standing in a queue in the cold waiting to get in to a club to stand in a queue to put your jacket in the locker room to stand in a queue for a bottle of VK Blue to stand in a queue for a pee. Not including the queue, you need to stand in for a taxi afterwards while you lose the feeling in your entire body because it’s 3am and it’s Scotland.
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20’s versus 40’s?
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Give me 40’s every time.
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