Broken toilet and Random Thinks
So, the roomie/landlord called a plumber to check out why my toilet wasn't flushing properly. The plumber, whose job it is to plumb, correctly deduced what I've known for well over a month. Namely, my toilet won't flush all the way down. He then discovered something else I've known for well over a month. Namely, if you pour two gallons of water into the tank while you flush, the toilet will flush entirely. Diagnosis? Broken toilet. He didn't say exactly what was broken, mind you, he just said the toilet was broken and left it at that. So, the roomie/landlord is going toilet shopping this weekend. I feel bad for her, because toilet shopping always strikes me as being a tad embarrasing.
CLERK: Can I help you find anything?
ROOMIE/LANDLORD: I need a toilet.
CLERK: Towards the back of the store, and take a right.
ROOMIE/LANDLORD: No, no. I need a toilet for my house. You see, my roommate has a broken toilet and he needs to pour two gallons of water into his toilet any time he flushes and. . .
CLERK: Security!!
I realize that the toilet broke due to the everyday wear and tear that toilets are subjected to, and I know that my use of the toilet over the past year probably has little to do with its current state. Still, I like to think that the toilet broke because of my defecatory prowess. That makes me strangely proud.
After a brief period of withdrawal, I have relocated the brilliance that is Plain Layne. For those not familiar with her blog, I highly suggest a visit. She dabbles in "geek work," but her true talent lies in her writing ability. She's been offline for a few days, but she's back and I'm much relieved. Welcome back Layne.
Due to an unfortunate entanglement of circumstances, my officemate is slated to be axed at the end of the month. IBM's eServer Magazine is in a transitional state that apparently does not include a future for her. This bums me out and also reminds me how tenuous my own grasp is on the ledge that is IBM employment. I shall miss our mindless daily banter about everything from The Sims, to Mystery Science Theater 3000, to our fantasy worlds of the evil Slenlor and the righteous Chinsnub. Mostly, I'm dreading being in this office all alone, forced to actually complete work for a change. *gloom*
For some reason, I realized earlier this week that I didn't remember putting on new license tabs yet this year. So, I pulled into the driveway, ambled out of my car, and looked at my current license tabs. They expired in May. Humph. That's not good. So, after a few calls, I found out where the nearest local license bureau is and drove my way gingerly to the office, lest I break a traffic law and expose an officer to my woefully outdated tabs. I made it without incident and asked the bubbly clerk for new tabs. She toddled over to the computer, entered my information, and said, "So, which car do you want tabs for?"
Which car? I wasn't aware that I had more than one. She said I was registered with a '96 Cadillac and an '89 Cavalier. Well, I'll be a monkey's distant cousin, twice removed. I sold my Cavalier two years ago to a friend of mine, Marc, for $80 and a case of beer. Marc then built a makeshift racetrack around his yard and raced my old car brutally around it daily, as if he was somehow beating me up through my former vehicle. Eventually, he drove the car into the ground and had to have it towed away for scrap. As far as I know, the Cavalier is now a crushed cube sitting forlornly in some Iowa junkyard. At any rate, despite his assurances, Marc apparently never got around to transferring the title from my name to his. So, on paper anyway, I'm the proud owner of a '96 Cadillac Eldorado and an '89 Chevy Cavalier cube. Again, this makes me strangely proud. I should buy a whole bunch of junky cars just so the Minnesota Department of Motor Vehicles has me listed as an owner of over 20 cars. That would be so cool.
And, finally, I see that somebody came to my site after doing a Google search on "Pictures+of+an+80+Year+Old+Man's+Penis." Sometimes you really have to question whether the Internet is all it's cracked up to be.
Posted by Ryan at August 9, 2002 10:40 AM
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