Our America is a cruel, unforgiving place. It's stingy on comeuppance and a bit topsy-turvy on karmic distribution. A cratered landscape where woman-beaters get cast as last-minute replacements for gay men who have the verve to perform mock fellatio. Even if more repulsive stabs at attention-grabbing were more openly overplayed in the past. It's a land dotted with slimy same-sex haunts that can at once make you feel god-like while tearing asunder the last few shreds of your dignity. And oh man, does Adam Lambert, he of conveniently flaky sexuality, know such internal discord well. While most of us spent yesterday picking fights at toy stores or comatose, Adam Lambert was busy enjoying a warm, unnerving rain of bodily fluid.

Corroborated by tweets like this and this, it seemed a club patron decided to go #1 on the dancefloor from an elevated platform. He was peeing with such reckless abandon, that Lambert weathered much of the urinal downpour. He fought back by chucking his cocktail at the urinator. Sassy! Though further tweets insist it was all in "good fun." "Good fun"! Like how all typical exchanges of body fluids for rum-based drinks tend to be! Update! Seems it could've also been staged performance art? Err, okay.

Meanwhile, sparklecows took the opportunity to vent their outrage, an art-form they've nearly perfected. Pundits could've meanwhile used this opportunity to draw a parallel between his "piss-poor" reception at the club and a similar critical reception of his debut album. But they were probably too busy doing a rain dance under that same vaguely fish-scented mist themselves.