GhostFromThePast

So yeah, like, my toilet's all fucked up right now and I need to get a new one. It was initially leaking from one of the tank bolts that connect the tank to the bowl (it's a two piece), and I tried to fix the bastard, but apparently they don't make replacement parts for a toilet that's been manufactured in 1982 (why the hell I have a toilet that's been manufactured in 1982 when I live in a house that was built in 1999 is just beyond me). So there's water all over the damn bathroom. I clean that up, notice that, "Hey! There very well may be some water damage in the woodwork of the baseboards (Happy, happy, joy, joy!)".

Then I go online to find a tutorial on how to choose the replacement parts and steps on how to do the repair myself. I find some really good information, or at least I thought I did. Anyway I tried to use the replacement parts (tank bolts and a rubber gasket that goes in between the tank and the bowl... I'm not drawing you guys a diagram... look it up online) from an analogous manufacturer's brand that I bought at Lowes, but apparently the parts didn't quite fit, because the fucker's still leaking. Actually... it's worse now. Wouldn't you know, I fucked the toilet up even worse by trying to fix it myself. I don't know why it's more fucked up now than it was before and I couldn't tell you how I managed to make it worse, but yeah, it's worse. I may have had another chance to fix the damn thing, but no... my shitty luck (no pun intended) has reared it's ugly head once again and now the toilet has to be replaced.

Can I get an "Amen", brothers and sisters?! Yay!!!

Anyway, I had to turn the water supply to the toilet off and drain the tank of the remaining water that was in there. So the water is not currently flowing in the toilet at all. Hence the toilet does not flush. So in pure genius fashion, I come up with a plan. If you don't know me, I come up with the craziest ideas to jury rigging broken shit all the time. And it usually works. I can't fix shit the way it's supposed to be, but I can come up with an "alternative solution" to tide me over until someone who actually knows what the hell they're doing comes around. It's like clockwork with me. I don't know why things are like that with me but I do count it as one of my better virtuous qualities. Life can be quite interesting when I'm around.

I find a bucket. I keep the bucket by the toilet. Every time I take a piss or a dump, I fill the bucket up with water from the shower head, lug it over to the toilet, and dump it into the toilet to flush the damn thing when I'm finished (for those of you who are going to ask, the normal flushing mechanism of a no frills toilet has to do with gravity and fluid dynamics... basically, it's physics that the ancient civilizations knew about... that's how they made their aqueducts work back in the day). What's really fun is when I really need to take a massive dump and I clog the damn drain. A toilet that doesn't flush and is clogged. Beauty, eh? It takes me about an hour and a half of plunging and dumping buckets after buckets of water into the bowl to get the fuckin' thing unclogged again. Loads and loads of fun. Believe me, I'm smiling on the inside. Tee hee hee!

So yeah, now I'm in the market for a new porcelain throne, preferably a one piece, ADA height (as I am disabled, if you do recall. If not, you must be new, welcome to the forum, and may I see your boobies, please? Everything you've heard about me is true... I am completely insane and incredibly good in bed), and I would like the bowl to be elongated... just because it's comfy and well, you should always be comfortable when you're squeezing out a turd or two. I like to think of sitting on the toilet as the average Joe's equivalent to a new age junkie's meditation session. "Ohm..." *plop*. "Ohm..." *plop*. *Flushhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh* Enlightenment comes from within and escapes through the bunghole.

Anyway, there are like at least 20 different toilet manufacturers that I could choose from, dozens of different bowl styles and shapes, 4 different types of flushing mechanisms (not including variations on the commonly accepted themes), and I'm currently trying to figure out which one is right for me. Because nothing says more about your level of class and societal status as a man quite like the crapper you choose to sit on while you're stinking up the entire house from the digested remains of the 15 extra stuffed bean and beef burritos and the broccoli with extra cheese you just had to have in a fit of uncontrollable hunger five hours ago.

I just thought you guys might like to know that.

And, hey, Jen! You got a blog post out of me. All of your wildest dreams have finally come true!

And finally, I would just like to take this opportunity to say...

Long live the Poo.