Sunday, October 30, 2005

Drip...drip...drip

So its 2 am and I've worked out for 5 hours today, I SYN (sh!t you negative). I'm downstairs in my kitchen and see what dripping on one of the counter tops. WTF!?! It is right under my bathroom so I run upstairs and see a layer of moisture around the toilet. After some exploring and discriptive cursing I figure out that one of the tank bolts (the bolts that attach the top water reservoir to the actual excretion receptacle) is the site of the leak. Plus side: this is clean water, minus side it has infiltrated under the tiles which I can now remove with my bare hands. Apparently a previous owner retiled the bathroom floor by just tiling on top of the old tile, idiot. Also no extremely important as in vital for making water tight RUBBER washers on the inside of the toilet -- hence its raining toilet water downstairs (while this is better than men, cats, or dogs its still a pretty annoying form of precipitation). I love lazy idiots.

The fun begins today, I have to get new tank bolts and secretly I love doing this handy man thing. Makes me feel like a rugged, "get er done" kind of guy. Of course as I am a not-insignificant fellow and stronger than a bull, my usual experiences with plumbing has been a few hours of descriptive cursing, bloodly knuckles, a destorted piece of metal plumbing mocking me, and a call to an experienced plumber who politely explains the modern advances in plumbing apparently not made public to the guys down at the hardware store. To quote a a famous full contact stickfighter, "the adventure continues."

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