What someone says when they have to pee really bad. During World War II, thousands of badly wounded Japanese soldiers were abandoned in the jungles of the South Pacific. Their wounds prevented them from being able to unbutton and pull down their trousers by themselves. Therefore, they were left to die alone with extremely full bladders.
Situation 1:
Drunk guy #1: Oh man, I gotta piss like a wounded Jap!
Drunk guy #2: Dude, you have the weakest bladder in the world.
Situation 2:
Wounded Japanese Soldier: Ooooooohhhh!!!
Drunk guy #1: Oh man, I gotta piss like a wounded Jap!
Drunk guy #2: Dude, you have the weakest bladder in the world.
Situation 2:
Wounded Japanese Soldier: Ooooooohhhh!!!
by DJJazzyJeff9 April 16, 2013
Get the I gotta piss like a wounded Jap mug.Bruce Lee: Why are you drinking that warm ass beer from yesterday??
Jose Contreras: Someone has to bayonette the wounded
Jose Contreras: Someone has to bayonette the wounded
by benny b from the bronx May 17, 2006
Get the bayonette the wounded mug.Related Words
(verb) The act of waking up, espically in the late morning or any portion of the afternoon, and finishing off any alcoholic beverege remains from the previous, exceptionally drunken, evening.
Why is this phrase such a perfect explaination of the incident it refers to? Well, to bayonett a wounded person is paradoxically both wicked and compassionate. On the one hand, the dude is already hurting, and to bayonett him/her (for all you politicaly correct assholes) is essentually just kicking him/her while he/she is down. On the other hand, if you kill a wounded party by bayonetting him/her one could liken it to putting a hurt race horse out of its misery.
As you gather up those cups/glasses/cans/bottles the next day, it is safe to assume you're hurting similarly to the afore mentioned wounded dude (I refuse to add dudette even if I am being politically incorrect). On the one hand, more beer/liquer/wine/mixed drink/anything containing alcohol (shit, even NyQuill) will aleviate your shakes/headache/feeling of impending death. On the other, you'll just get drunk again, only this time on something room temperature that is likely to contain backwash of friends, people you pretend to be friends with even though they're irritating, people you have never met, but somehow have been in your house numerous times, that slut who was getting laid in your bathroom, the neighbor's dog, and quite possibly, your mom, and postpone the incredible discomfort.
Why is this phrase such a perfect explaination of the incident it refers to? Well, to bayonett a wounded person is paradoxically both wicked and compassionate. On the one hand, the dude is already hurting, and to bayonett him/her (for all you politicaly correct assholes) is essentually just kicking him/her while he/she is down. On the other hand, if you kill a wounded party by bayonetting him/her one could liken it to putting a hurt race horse out of its misery.
As you gather up those cups/glasses/cans/bottles the next day, it is safe to assume you're hurting similarly to the afore mentioned wounded dude (I refuse to add dudette even if I am being politically incorrect). On the one hand, more beer/liquer/wine/mixed drink/anything containing alcohol (shit, even NyQuill) will aleviate your shakes/headache/feeling of impending death. On the other, you'll just get drunk again, only this time on something room temperature that is likely to contain backwash of friends, people you pretend to be friends with even though they're irritating, people you have never met, but somehow have been in your house numerous times, that slut who was getting laid in your bathroom, the neighbor's dog, and quite possibly, your mom, and postpone the incredible discomfort.
I woke up with my shoes on and stumbled, still somewhat intoxicated, to the bathroom. On my way back to bed from the kitchen, where I had gone for a much-neededglass of water, I found a homeless man sleeping on my couch. I immediately realized that sobering up would be nothing more than a colassal exercise in futility, and proceeded to trade my water for the nearest leftover booze. I spent the remainder of my afternoon and evening bayonetting the wounded with some homeless dude whom I've never seen again.
by megalomaniacal girl December 12, 2008
Get the bayonetting the wounded mug.Basically means to move on and move past problems one person may have with another.
Used by a character on the British television show Misfits.
Used by a character on the British television show Misfits.
... And so he hit you with a toaster and kidnapped you, but you know what they say? Don't fuck a wounded bear!
by Hello to those out there December 25, 2010
Get the Don't Fuck A Wounded Bear mug."I was told I should get a college degree. So, I went and got a Masters' degree in literary criticism of French medieval bread recipes from an online university."
"That's like peeing on a wounded jellyfish."
"That's like peeing on a wounded jellyfish."
by donaldpelosi January 6, 2020
Get the Like peeing on a wounded jellyfish mug.When a girl is so hot, you take a gun and shoot her in the leg. Then you have sex with the gun wound.
Only one person is known to actually give a girl an orgasim while performing this: Chuck Norris
Only one person is known to actually give a girl an orgasim while performing this: Chuck Norris
by trojanman69 March 31, 2009
Get the The Wounded Monster mug.(verb) The act of waking up, espically in the late morning or any portion of the afternoon, and finishing off any alcoholic beverege remains from the previous, exceptionally drunken, evening.
Why is this phrase such a perfect explaination of the incident it refers to? Well, to bayonett a wounded person is paradoxically both wicked and compassionate. On the one hand, the dude is already hurting, and to bayonett him/her (for all you politicaly correct assholes) is essentually just kicking him/her while he/she is down. On the other hand, if you kill a wounded party by bayonetting him/her one could liken it to putting a hurt race horse out of its misery.
As you gather up those cups/glasses/cans/bottles the next day, it is safe to assume you're hurting similarly to the afore mentioned wounded dude (I refuse to add dudette even if I am being politically incorrect). On the one hand, more beer/liquer/wine/mixed drink/anything containing alcohol (shit, even NyQuill) will aleviate your shakes/headache/feeling of impending death. On the other, you'll just get drunk again, only this time on something room temperature that is likely to contain backwash of friends, people you pretend to be friends with even though they're irritating, people you have never met, but somehow have been in your house numerous times, that slut who was getting laid in your bathroom, the neighbor's dog, and quite possibly, your mom, and postpone the incredible discomfort.
Why is this phrase such a perfect explaination of the incident it refers to? Well, to bayonett a wounded person is paradoxically both wicked and compassionate. On the one hand, the dude is already hurting, and to bayonett him/her (for all you politicaly correct assholes) is essentually just kicking him/her while he/she is down. On the other hand, if you kill a wounded party by bayonetting him/her one could liken it to putting a hurt race horse out of its misery.
As you gather up those cups/glasses/cans/bottles the next day, it is safe to assume you're hurting similarly to the afore mentioned wounded dude (I refuse to add dudette even if I am being politically incorrect). On the one hand, more beer/liquer/wine/mixed drink/anything containing alcohol (shit, even NyQuill) will aleviate your shakes/headache/feeling of impending death. On the other, you'll just get drunk again, only this time on something room temperature that is likely to contain backwash of friends, people you pretend to be friends with even though they're irritating, people you have never met, but somehow have been in your house numerous times, that slut who was getting laid in your bathroom, the neighbor's dog, and quite possibly, your mom, and postpone the incredible discomfort.
I woke up with my shoes on and stumbled, still somewhat intoxicated, to the bathroom. On my way back to bed from the kitchen, where I had gone for a much-neededglass of water, I found a homeless man sleeping on my couch. I immediately realized that sobering up would be nothing more than a colassal exercise in futility, and proceeded to trade my water for the nearest leftover booze. I spent the remainder of my afternoon and evening bayonetting the wounded with some homeless dude whom I've never seen again.
by the greatest megalomaniac ever December 9, 2008
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