Crappy Post ©

I have a million ideas for posts and I can’t choose one.
I hear people say all the time, “I don’t have nothing to post”?
Bah
That’s all crap.
Hell you could post about going for a crap.
How many people out there have some crappy stories they could post about?

This morning I’m sitting on the crapper, that’s toilet for those who don’t know the nickname, which is taken from its inventor, Thomas Crapper.
So basically when you tell people you’re going for a crap you’re actually saying you’re blowing a guy out of your ass.
Actually Thomas Crapper didn’t invent the toilet; he made it better than the guy who invented it.
Before when you flushed the water went up but Mr. Crapper got tired of fishing logs out of his boots every time he flushed so he invented a toilet where the water went down when you flushed.

I’m sitting on the toilet reading an Easy Rider; ok I was looking at the tits of the models when Biggie, SIL’s dog walks in.
He walks up to me as I am sitting on the toilet and sticks his head down the front of it.
WTF!!!!!!
I jump off of the toilet and wonder what the fuck is my SIL teaching the fucken dog.

Ok he’s friendly but I don’t want the dog’s head down the front of the toilet while I’m sitting on it.
Who knows what the little bastard will bite.
He chews everything he can get his mouth on.

I love the washroom/library and spend more time in there than anyone I know.
In fact if I say I’m going to the washroom and someone who knows me sees me pick up some reading material they run first because it’s going to be a while.
Oh and I love closing the door and smoking a joint in there.
A joint and a book, fuck I could stay in there for hours and not have to get up to go for a piss.

One day I was sitting on my thrown with my feet stretched out on top of the cast iron tub.
You know the ones with the clawed feet that were made in then twenties?
Real high and deep tubs.
Well I got my feet up there, a Louis L'Amour novel in my hands and I am reading mindlessly away when me, the toilet went straight down through the floor.

Holy crap batman.

It was an old house and the floor over the years of getting wet rotted out and decided to cave in right at the gunfight part.
If it weren’t for the joists, I would have had a toilet in the living room.
Needless to say I moved from that place.

My GF went out and bought one of those brown wooden toilet seats once and wanted me to install it.
I hated the seat and tried to talk her out of it.
I told her that she might get slivers in her butt one day but that didn’t work so I went to get my tools.

I sat down on the floor with the toilet between my legs and went to undue the screw holding the toilet seat to the toilet but it was rusted on there real good.
It wasn’t like the new ones today that have plastic wing nuts.
I fished out the vice grips from my tool kit and a socket wrench for the other side and proceeded to undue the bolt but it still wouldn’t give.
Now I was getting pissed.
I got some WD40 and sprayed the bolts and waited a bit.
After about fifteen minutes I tried again.
There was a slight movement in the bolt this time but it still didn’t unscrew.

I figured what was needed here was more power so I braced my legs on the wall behind the toilet and gave it everything I had.
Every once and pound of my being and put it behind my tools.

HEAVE!!!!!!!!!!!

The toilet exploded into a million pieces with the water cascading off of the ceiling and raining back down on me.
That’s what the GF saw when she came to see what the commotion was.

My father built a washroom in his basement with his friend, another person who knows half of everything like my father.
That means he knows how to start something just not how to finish it.
I was not allowed to help because I don’t know anything as I was told which was fine by me.
Four days later my mother called me over to look at their new washroom.

I went downstairs and I must say it looked ok.
It wasn’t anything special, a toilet with a shower next to it.
I turned the water on the tub and it worked, the toilet flushed, it all seems good.
Scary if you think about it.
My father can’t read English so he didn’t read any instructions or anything like that they just stuck it all together.
Well, if it works that’s all that matters, right?

Later on that day I was sitting in the kitchen with my parents and my mother went to the new bathroom downstairs.
That’s about the time my brother went to use the new shower to, which was next to the washroom.
My father and I were talking when we heard the screams coming from the basement and then my mother running on all fours yelling about an earthquake.
It seems the whole toilet started shacking as she sat on it and scared the crap out of her.

My father in his infinite wisdom attached the cold water line going from the toilet to the new shower.
Then he didn’t strap the pipes to the wall to hold them but his biggest mistake was that he did the plumbing wrong on the shower.
You are supposed to cap the water lines past the shower valve then use a couple of “T” pipes to attach to the valve.
This way the pipes won’t shake behind the wall but my father didn’t do that.
He just ran the lines to the valve and when my brother turned the water on in the shower the pipes shuck and because they weren’t strapped to the wall they made the toilet shake all over the place with my mother on top riding it like a bull rider making her think there was an earthquake.

How do you like that crap for a post?

Have a nice day

Walker