Up To my ears in Shit
Language butchery by redhotknitter on 21.2.06 @ 18:15
Rich asked me to share this with the world, so here goes:
Guess how I spent my morning? The toilet blew up (literally water spraying and shit flying). I couldn't get the water shut-off to turn. I was drowning in water and shit. I pulled off the lid and pulled up the lever thingee. But it only shut off the water if I stood there.
Argh.
Water was flowing into the living room at this point. With shit.
Did I mention the shit that was everywhere?
I ran for towels. The water shut off when it reached the right height. I plunged and plunged and plunged. Flushed. Flowing water. Screaming and swearing at this point.
Water and no towels.
No Rich.
I called the plumber. While I was waiting I started mopping up shit and water.
Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit everywhere. On the walls on the floor on me.
Yay shit.
I mopped and mopped and swore and tried not to cry. Did I mention shit everywhere?
After 50 long minutes, the floor was almost all mopped up and the plumber shows up. He snakes the toilet. Asks some questions. Fixes said toilet and leaves (seems the water in the tank was too low and not creating enough pressure to force the shit through the pipes).
$77.00 later. (And a call to the landlord--how do you tell the story without using the word shit?) I'm still in the shit...
...but at least I can finish taking one.
There is still shit everywhere. I get the floor unflooded. Start load of towels load one. How much bleach is too much? Who cares, use a lot. There was shit on them. SHIT. I finish with the other towels. Get them out to the washer. I start bleaching everything the shit hit. It is another shitter hitter. Is there enought bleach in the house? Hmmmm. Maybe not.
I have bleached everything. Twice. Is that enough? I hope so. Onto Lysol. It kills 99% of germs on contact. Love Lysol. I'm waiting for the laundry to finish so that I can shower before running load 2. Of three.
The next person who asks if it bugs me when Rich is gone is going to hear, "Only when the shit is flying."
Guess how I spent my morning? The toilet blew up (literally water spraying and shit flying). I couldn't get the water shut-off to turn. I was drowning in water and shit. I pulled off the lid and pulled up the lever thingee. But it only shut off the water if I stood there.
Argh.
Water was flowing into the living room at this point. With shit.
Did I mention the shit that was everywhere?
I ran for towels. The water shut off when it reached the right height. I plunged and plunged and plunged. Flushed. Flowing water. Screaming and swearing at this point.
Water and no towels.
No Rich.
I called the plumber. While I was waiting I started mopping up shit and water.
Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit everywhere. On the walls on the floor on me.
Yay shit.
I mopped and mopped and swore and tried not to cry. Did I mention shit everywhere?
After 50 long minutes, the floor was almost all mopped up and the plumber shows up. He snakes the toilet. Asks some questions. Fixes said toilet and leaves (seems the water in the tank was too low and not creating enough pressure to force the shit through the pipes).
$77.00 later. (And a call to the landlord--how do you tell the story without using the word shit?) I'm still in the shit...
...but at least I can finish taking one.
There is still shit everywhere. I get the floor unflooded. Start load of towels load one. How much bleach is too much? Who cares, use a lot. There was shit on them. SHIT. I finish with the other towels. Get them out to the washer. I start bleaching everything the shit hit. It is another shitter hitter. Is there enought bleach in the house? Hmmmm. Maybe not.
I have bleached everything. Twice. Is that enough? I hope so. Onto Lysol. It kills 99% of germs on contact. Love Lysol. I'm waiting for the laundry to finish so that I can shower before running load 2. Of three.
The next person who asks if it bugs me when Rich is gone is going to hear, "Only when the shit is flying."
