Your leaking thatched hut during the restoration of a pre-Enlightenment state.

 

Hello, my name is Judas Gutenberg and this is my blaag (pronounced as you would the vomit noise "hyroop-bleuach").



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Like my brownhouse:
   soaking in errant water
Monday, October 28 2002

setting: rural Hurley, New York

Louis couldn't arrange to come today, but that was alright because it seemed as if I had enough to do without getting started on the probably endless task of the master bedroom suite. The big ordeal of the day [REDACTED] was the sink plumbing in the half bathroom. I connected it all up today and got it working, but then I realized that there was a leak coming from where the the drain goes into the trap. I took it apart. I applied my favorite solution, plumbers putty, but still it leaked. I took it apart again. I applied more putty and a makeshift gasket. It still leaked. I went to Lowes and bought everything that might possibly solve this problem. I installed some things. The leaks seemed to stop. Gretchen cooked me dinner and then we had big fight that began with my critique of her use of the dishwasher. Then I realized the damn sink trap in the bathroom was actually still leaking! I took it apart again, I did some things. My mind gradually grew tired of thinking about the problem, but what could I do? I couldn't leave a new sink installation in a leaky state! How could I sleep at night knowing my nice new parquet floors were soaking in errant water?

For linking purposes this article's URL is:
http://asecular.com/blog.php?021028

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