Moronically emboldened by the successful mailbox installation yesterday, I foolishly decided to take on another of the nagging Crabbyfamily projects that I never quite get around to -- the forever-running-toilets. It was time to grab the leaky ballcocks by the... ballcocks, and FIX THE MOFOS!
I promise that from this day forth, I will set up a video camera on a tripod and record whatever "Mr. Fixit" project I tackle, because it's guaranteed to be comedy gold. I would KILL to have a recording of me breaking the toilet today. I really thought I was on the right track for a while -- I shut off the water, yanked out the old ballcock, got the new one in there and re-hooked up the water. I turned on the ol' water valve and flushed the fucker. As I excitedly watched the tank fill with water, I was preparing to give myself yet another handyman-high-five when, and I kid you not, the top of the new ballcock blew off, hit the ceiling and a three foot geyser of toilet water shot full force into my dumb-ass face-hole.
I tried to draw a picture of it, but it just doesn't capture the dunderheadedness of it all:
So, I'll be calling the plumber in the morning. To sum up, when it comes to mailboxes, I'm a regular fucking Norm Abram. Plumbing and electrical... more of a Curly Howard.