Bladders suck.

When some bodily function needs to be taken care of, your body tends to give you warning that this thing is about to become a problem if you don't do something about it.

Example: "Gee, I'm starting to feel a wee bit hungry! I'll make my way to some sort of food source in the next few minutes or so, that way I can take care of it and my stomach won't try and eat itself!"

This happens with hunger, sleepiness, having to poop, thirstiness, and so on.

This does not happen when it comes to peeing.

For some reason, our bladders have evolved into mini hate machines that want us to fail.
They lay in wait, nestled in their bunker between the kidneys, just waiting for the most inopportune moment to strike.

I'm never just sitting there thinking, "hmm...my bladder feels like its about to become really uncomfortable, I'm going to go pee now, thus saving myself from the agony and discomfort that comes with a full bladder."
No, you only notice that your bladder is full when you're about to pee your pants. Generally this seems to occur in public places, or when you're with your friends and someone sits on your bladder and you're like "SHIT."

You know, bladder, you could give us some hints once in awhile. A little heads up that we're about to explode with pee.

And having to pee isn't one of those things you can deal with until you find a convenient way to take care of it. If you're hungry or thirsty or sleepy, you can generally deal with those things for awhile before you reach the critical level where its eat/drink/sleep or die.
Doing anything while having to pee is terrible, because all you can think of is how badly you need to pee. You can't focus on anything other than your painfully full bladder.

And these sudden bouts of "OHMYGOD I HAVE TO PEE" tend to happen when you least expect them, so not only do you have to pee almost immediately, there's no where to do so.
Like, perhaps you're out on a boat with some friends and you have to pee. Oh, and you're a girl, so you can't just whip it out and piss off the side (stupid boys and their peeing appendages), you have to find some way to maneuver yourself somewhere where it will be discreet and won't get on your clothes or hands or anything.

Even worse is when you're on a boat and you have to pee and there IS a bathroom available at the place where you're currently docked, and even though you know the bathroom is probably one of the worst bathrooms ever built, you go in anyway just to relieve yourself, only to find a dead mouse covered in ants lying next to the toilet while the flies inside the toilet-hole land on your ass and then you have to worry about them crawling into one of the many orifices us women-folk have down there, even though the chances of a fly being smart enough to climb into your vagina are pretty damn slim.
At this point you've stopped peeing out of sheer terror and disgust, and even though you're not done peeing you pull up your pants as fast as you can and get out of this bathroom because it is clearly the entryway to hell. Your bladder feels a teensy bit better, but you know in about 2 minutes you're going to have to pee again and you won't even have hell's bathroom to use, and you'll be screwed.

That is only semi-autobiographical. ish.

Note: I wrote this entire post while having to pee like a mother-fucker. In an effort to show my bladder who's boss, I refused to get up and take care of the situation because I am in control. I won't let my bladder tell me what to do.
Except now I'm about to pee my pants.
You win this round, bladder. But I'm comin' for yeh.