Crumby - Intrepid Flapper Seeker
Flapper!
There is no such thing as a minor plumbing emergency. That’s because if you ignore a minor plumbing emergency, it can wind up costing you millions. Pretty soon, you can’t pay your water bill. Then, the water bill responsible party cuts your water off. After you have no water, anything bad can and will happen. Pretty soon you are evicted. A futile attempt to steal bread for your starving wives, children and livestock winds you up in jail. In jail you are mercilessly assaulted by vicious guards and other inmates. Inmates! Why are they spelled, inmates? Mercy!
That’s why, I, Crumby, was sent off into the terrible ass fault wilderness to round up a new flapper for the Ladies’ Comfort Station toilet tank. Yet I, Crumby, am a poor choice for that duty as assigned, going off into the terrible ass fault wilderness to round up a new flapper.
Turns out, all flappers are not the same, not by a long shot. So picking out the correct flapper may be impossible if you fail to closely inspect your defective flapper prior to setting off into the terrible wilderness.
It is Saturday. Brodie Lane is impassable. Home Depot is situated on Brodie Lane. Wrong flapper. Back to Home Depot. Brodie Lane is impassable. Refund eventually acquired. No proper flapper available. They don’t even vend my dern flapper. Yet at least I didn’t go berserk, get arrested and wind up mercilessly assaulted by vicious guards and other inmates. Inmates! Why are they spelled, inmates? Mercy!
What I need is a Crane flapper that fits older Crane toilets. Turns out, two sites vend those on EBAY. Somehow though, ordering flappers over the internet doesn’t seem wise or timely. What am I to do?
I know. I bet Crump has my flapper. Crump has saved me from jail before. I bet Crump can save me again. Ha! Look at that. Crump is open at 8 AM, Sunday morning. Praise the Goddess!
For a wonder, the roads that belong to the Wicker Man between the CB and Crump were passable at the time I set out, early, so I would be the first, or among the first, customer at Crump. Yet, even so, the journey was long and perilous.
I need three flappers that fit older Crane toilets.
Follow me Mr. Ovate. Here you go, Mr. Ovate.
Praise the Goddesss!!!!
My new flapper fits perfectly. Plus I have two spares. Now, there is one less intermittent disturbing noise emanating from the Ladies’ Comfort Station. And, I have escaped jail, again. Why are they spelled, inmates? Mercy!
There is no such thing as a minor plumbing emergency. That’s because if you ignore a minor plumbing emergency, it can wind up costing you millions. Pretty soon, you can’t pay your water bill. Then, the water bill responsible party cuts your water off. After you have no water, anything bad can and will happen. Pretty soon you are evicted. A futile attempt to steal bread for your starving wives, children and livestock winds you up in jail. In jail you are mercilessly assaulted by vicious guards and other inmates. Inmates! Why are they spelled, inmates? Mercy!
That’s why, I, Crumby, was sent off into the terrible ass fault wilderness to round up a new flapper for the Ladies’ Comfort Station toilet tank. Yet I, Crumby, am a poor choice for that duty as assigned, going off into the terrible ass fault wilderness to round up a new flapper.
Turns out, all flappers are not the same, not by a long shot. So picking out the correct flapper may be impossible if you fail to closely inspect your defective flapper prior to setting off into the terrible wilderness.
It is Saturday. Brodie Lane is impassable. Home Depot is situated on Brodie Lane. Wrong flapper. Back to Home Depot. Brodie Lane is impassable. Refund eventually acquired. No proper flapper available. They don’t even vend my dern flapper. Yet at least I didn’t go berserk, get arrested and wind up mercilessly assaulted by vicious guards and other inmates. Inmates! Why are they spelled, inmates? Mercy!
What I need is a Crane flapper that fits older Crane toilets. Turns out, two sites vend those on EBAY. Somehow though, ordering flappers over the internet doesn’t seem wise or timely. What am I to do?
I know. I bet Crump has my flapper. Crump has saved me from jail before. I bet Crump can save me again. Ha! Look at that. Crump is open at 8 AM, Sunday morning. Praise the Goddess!
For a wonder, the roads that belong to the Wicker Man between the CB and Crump were passable at the time I set out, early, so I would be the first, or among the first, customer at Crump. Yet, even so, the journey was long and perilous.
I need three flappers that fit older Crane toilets.
Follow me Mr. Ovate. Here you go, Mr. Ovate.
Praise the Goddesss!!!!
My new flapper fits perfectly. Plus I have two spares. Now, there is one less intermittent disturbing noise emanating from the Ladies’ Comfort Station. And, I have escaped jail, again. Why are they spelled, inmates? Mercy!
posted by ray pistrum at Monday, December 10, 2007
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