Wiener, wiener-wiener

Utah in four words: We’re Scared of Wieners

On Sunday and Monday, I got stuck in the SLC airport. This is urinal row.

Wiener, wiener wiener...
No side-eying wieners here.

Notice the deep, tall partitions. You might see and silently judge the next guy by his shoes, but you will not catch a glimpse of his magic underwear or devil’s hose unless your a 7-foot tall black man (i.e., rare to the point of being an urban legend around there, one supposes.)


On Monday morning, after spending way too much time whining like bitches because some comic said some truths about the clown car administration, the local Salt Lake fox show aired 3 minutes on some little Mormon boy who had a petition to install urinal partitions in the school bathrooms. Evidently, fear of a strange wiener in your peripheral vision is a thing here. (For comparison, this is what Michigan Stadium used to be like: one big pee wall. Get done; get back to your seat. No one cares about the other sausages at the party.)

Fun fact: the usual partitions are pretty delicate (like your sensibilities, Utah). Don’t ask how I know.

Fun fact from four-plus years ago: Salt Lake has more gay bars than ___. [I don’t fucking know – It wasn’t my story. Just because I went to Charlies in 2008 with my then-girlfriend doesn’t make me an expert. ]

Anyway, sing along, in your best Mitt Romney in a leopard print man-thong voice:

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