To pee, or not to pee: that is the question
Weather is colder than a man should suffer
The sting doth harrow my now aching organ
Should I face harm intense?
Could freeze my piddle should I expose my member

To cry, to weep
So sore, denied relief, I crave Depends
My part quakes with a mounting mictural throb
The stress, it flares rude,
'Tis accumulation that's shouting to be wizzed

The drive to pee
To pee, perchance to freeze: ay, scares my nub
For wind might breathe it's breath, might leave it numb
Then leave it troubled, soft, abnormal, spoiled
Might give it flaws, weird to inspect
And shaped so tragic'ly it prolongs strife

Forsooth I dared a trip to northern clime
The oppressive squalls, the clouds spanned ominously
The banks of the white fluff on lawns arrayed
The incidents of awful winter storms
The ways imperiled in their unearthly wakes
Indeed impelled I did this ski trip make
Within fair lodge, imbibed the bar's cold fare

Too drunk to fret over the fear or fright
I sat on lift to stunning jagged crests
The wondrous upward summits from whose course
Slow traversers return ruffled and chilled
When train of battered chairs stood still I laughed
Then cried when stubborn lift refused to budge

Thus cautious I gaped downward from this stall
And thus my fate confused, with no solution
I whispered forth with a frail gasp, distraught
"Must neutralize my great itch and torment
With no regard to lurkin' risk of plight
Let loose with shameless passion"

Washing down!
With flair, I'm peein'!
Glimpsin' at golden runs!