As a wee shaver growing up among the fjords of Saskatchewan, I was taught by the nuns at the school of Our Lady of the Perpetual Clip On The Ear. I have many fond memories of that place, so pull up a chair and I'll tell you the story of the great pissing contest of 1977.
One day my school chum Fred Guriachi, the half-italian half japanese asthmatic chain smoker, challenged me to see who could piss higher up the washroom wall. And since I had just downed a litre of Coke, I figured I was a shoo in. So I said: "You're on Fred, let's get pissing."
So there we were, pissing our way up the already piss yellow bathroom wall tiles when in walked Sister Bernadette who was wondering what we doing in the bathroom for so long.
Employing the ancient art of Nun-Fu she paralyzed us both with an expert ear lobe hold and dragged us to the office of Brother Bernard, the school's principal.
"I caught these two hooligans trying to see who could piss farther up the bathroom wall," barked Sister Bernadette.
"What did you do?" asked Brother Bernard.
"I hit the ceiling!"
"Good," answered Brother Bernard, "never let the little bastards get ahead."