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anlrolfe

anlrolfe

Honor GOD, Country and Corps
Joined
May 10, 2013
Messages
2,019
Location
Kentucky
We've all done it, a pound of flesh.
Today was trivial by comparison, humorous, laughable in it's absurdity perhaps. No shredded knuckles or ritual blood letting. Been there, done that.
Today I decided to use some flex time and escape this afternoon to grind some leaves and get the yard looking better for Fat Mans day aka Thanksgiving. I grabbed the blower and played leaf rodeo getting things ready for step-2, lawn mower. My front yard is small by comparison, not quite a postage stamp but the back is terraced making the Toro self propelled earn its keep. I don't usually bag but this time of year it has its merits. After rounding the front yard the bagger would need emptying so I brought several 30 gal cans up for the pit stops. After a couple start stops it just wouldn't go. Pull and it would try, cough, sputter then falter. Gas tank still had about an inch in the bottom. What the hay? Top 'er off anyway and more of the same. This mower is only 2-yrs old, Briggs 7.5hp. Check the filter and tap out some chaff, spray some small engine cleaned into the carb and more of the same. Tug and pull and spray, more of the same. In my determination it's a wonder that I didn't just rip the cord out and that's when it happened. Want to get a piece of me? Pulling hard and the handle slipped out on my hand. I'm not sure if it wrapped itself around the handle bar first or hit me in the tit as I arched back for additional effect. Sum Be Auch.... now I've got what looks like a hicky on my pecktoral...
So, I decide to check the plug. I'm convinced that it's a fuel problem but before I commit and go down that road disassembling the carb, try the easy stuff. I pull the plug and dark, wet and carbonized. Clean 'er up and viosilase, vroom, vroom.
So, I put the mower away when everything is cut and ground up and go back for the blower. It's cold now and after the first two pulls yield nothing I flip on the choke and give 'er another yank. SUM BEE AUCH... pull cord right in the Dad belly. Stung like an M-ef-er but glad it wasn't Lil jim and the twins. So, I ask myself, what are the chances? Apparently today 100%.
This all got me thinking, I've done far worse when tired or too determined. Usually nothing to laugh off and more likely to require direct pressure and a bandage.
 
unclemoustache

unclemoustache

My 'stache is bigger than yours.
Joined
Jan 22, 2009
Messages
22,545
Location
S. Il. near St. Louis
Well, sometimes things go wrong, and sometimes they go horribly wrong.
Here is a little story I wrote several years ago, and darn near every detail is true to life. I spiced up the dialogue only a tiny bit.




Bob had a clogged drain, so I loaded my new-to-me drain snake and followed him down into his basement. It’s a strange basement, for in one corner a part of his foundation had been dug away to reveal an open area, which was where the drain problem was. For some reason it reminded me of a Nazi gas chamber. How little I realized what torture I would be subject to in that chamber over the next half hour.



The cleanout plug was about 4 feet off the ground, and Bob held the bucket while I slowly opened the cleanout plug. We used a piece of 4” pvc pipe and elbow to direct water into bucket. I didn’t want a gush to overwhelm us, so I only allowed a small trickle at first, which sounded like peeing in a toilet. I mentioned that I had a sudden desire to go to the bathroom. Bob offered the bucket to me, but I declined. Bob also mentioned how clear and clean the water looked, but I had a feeling it wouldn’t look that way for long.



I then decided to open the cleanout plug a little farther, but I misjudged how far I had already unscrewed it, and ended up gushing water all over myself, especially in the groin area. I told Bob I didn’t need to go to the bathroom anymore. He said it sure looked that way – like I had wet my pants. I said that considering it was his pee, he was the one who had wet my pants. I don’t mind spilling on myself once in a while – there’s something not so repulsive about that, but to get someone else’s pee on one is much worse. And I was right – it wasn’t so clear and clean anymore. It also gave off a foul reek which soon overpowered our senses, and watered our eyes.



I then started using the snake in the drain. It was rather tricky since the head would get caught up, so the cable would be spinning at the machine, building up tension in the cable and then suddenly release as the cutter head broke free. I would then be able to push it in farther.

I pulled it back to change the cutter head, and the cable was all full of water and gunk. The head would get caught and the cable would tighten up again, but this time when it broke free it would spatter gunk from the previous immersion. Sometimes it would spatter pretty hard, and as I continued to change heads and work my way through the clog, I was getting quite speckled with gunk. Bob was holding the drain cleaner at an angle for me so I could feed it easier, and he was fairly far away, but not far enough, for one time the spatter got to him. I didn’t apologize. One ought never to apologize to a man who gets spattered with his own poo. After that first big spatter I decided it would be best to keep my mouth tightly closed.

Finally I manage to bring back a chunk of tree root when pulling back the cable, so I begin working that, trying to pull out more roots. I manage to get the big one – looked like a 10” long hair ball, and a lot of stuff came with it, including some small round potatoes. I thought they were rocks, so I picked one up to examine it. Bob asked, “what is that? hickory nuts??” but when I gave a squeeze, I realized what it was, and hastily put it down. “Man, I can’t believe I was just holding one of your turds! That’s disgusting! As if this whole process isn’t disgusting enough I have to go and grab your poo!”

He didn’t apologize. One ought never to apologize to a man who chooses to pick up another man’s turds.

Although Bob thought it was rather funny that I should handle his turds, he was kind enough not to laugh out loud. One ought never to laugh at a man who is holding poo.

“You know, Bob,” I said, eyeing his turds. “Maybe it’s not my place to say this, but I think you ought to consider chewing your food more.”



Bob then asked, “You don’t mind if I let one go, do you?”

“No, go ahead. It might actually improve the smell down here. I think one of my lungs has collapsed.”

About that time I began to notice that the places where the spatters had hit my face and neck were beginning to burn just a bit. “Bob, you eat any Mexican food this week?”

“Yes I did – how can you tell?”

“Your poo has gone nuclear. It’s eating its way through my skin. Any hotter and you wouldn’t need me to clean your drains for you. That must have really hurt coming out.”

“Yes, I tried something I had never heard of before – ‘ghost peppers.’ They really had a kick to them. I think they’re called ghost peppers because they come back to haunt you after you polish them off.”

“Well they’re certainly haunting us both now. Thanks for sharing.”



At that point I had pretty much finished the drain, and was starting to pack up the tools.
“You want to work on the floor drain now?” asked Bob.

“No.”

Bob chuckled.

“Pull the machine over to the drain. My hands are too gunky.”

Bob pulled, and we got it all set up. I put the small head on the cable and began to work it in. While I was doing so, I was muttering to myself. “Get a drain cleaner, I said. It would be good for business, I said. I could clean out people’s drains more often, I said. It would pay for itself in no time, I said. What was I THINKING! Drains involve poo. Poo is nasty.”



Every time I see somebody on the side of the road in a gorilla suit holding an advertisement sign for some business, I shake my head and marvel at what people would do for money. And here I am with a face full of Bob’s burning poo, when I could be outside in the fresh air in a lovely gorilla suit doing nothing more than holding a sign and waving at cars. But no, I had to get a drain cleaner. It’s so cheap, I think. What a bargain, I said. Can’t possibly go wrong, I said.
 
Northerner

Northerner

ArboristSite Operative
Joined
Dec 13, 2010
Messages
334
Location
Alberta, Canada
Lol @ unc!
As a plumber myself, I can relate to your story quite well. Been there done that, don’t wanna go back!


Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk
 
anlrolfe

anlrolfe

Honor GOD, Country and Corps
Joined
May 10, 2013
Messages
2,019
Location
Kentucky
Reminds me of a time redoing plumbing at my old house. Bathroom was an addition ontop of a slab with barely enough room for a thin fella to get under. I had to reroute a drain line that the previous owner f-ed up, run without proper support and with rise. Trapped with my chest against the bottom of the joint, every breath sometimes a struggle. I wasn't claustrophobic but this darn near made me so. Solvent fume and glue probable making it all the worse. Reaching and straining to grab some parts, I really didn't pay attention to where my head was and that's when it happened. One errant drop of effluent right into my ear. Not onto, into. Bullseye!!! Not a glancing blow, not a rim shot. Straight in and bingo ear drum. Now, I've been elbow deep in caca. I've been spattered, splattered and smeared but this chilling aural infiltration cut through me in a way I just can't explain. Literally violated to the core perhaps because it wasn't something you could easily wipe off.
 
Jersey Bob

Jersey Bob

ArboristSite Operative
Joined
Mar 13, 2007
Messages
495
Location
Central Jersey
Well, sometimes things go wrong, and sometimes they go horribly wrong.
Here is a little story I wrote several years ago, and darn near every detail is true to life. I spiced up the dialogue only a tiny bit.

Unc,

I remember you telling this story once before.
You had picture proof at the time.
But, that’s okay we don’t need to see you covered in “ stuff “.
 
TNTreeHugger

TNTreeHugger

Loving the Ignore Feature
Joined
May 17, 2016
Messages
9,537
Location
Everywhere.
Well, sometimes things go wrong, and sometimes they go horribly wrong.
Here is a little story I wrote several years ago, and darn near every detail is true to life. I spiced up the dialogue only a tiny bit.




Bob had a clogged drain, so I loaded my new-to-me drain snake and followed him down into his basement. It’s a strange basement, for in one corner a part of his foundation had been dug away to reveal an open area, which was where the drain problem was. For some reason it reminded me of a Nazi gas chamber. How little I realized what torture I would be subject to in that chamber over the next half hour.



The cleanout plug was about 4 feet off the ground, and Bob held the bucket while I slowly opened the cleanout plug. We used a piece of 4” pvc pipe and elbow to direct water into bucket. I didn’t want a gush to overwhelm us, so I only allowed a small trickle at first, which sounded like peeing in a toilet. I mentioned that I had a sudden desire to go to the bathroom. Bob offered the bucket to me, but I declined. Bob also mentioned how clear and clean the water looked, but I had a feeling it wouldn’t look that way for long.



I then decided to open the cleanout plug a little farther, but I misjudged how far I had already unscrewed it, and ended up gushing water all over myself, especially in the groin area. I told Bob I didn’t need to go to the bathroom anymore. He said it sure looked that way – like I had wet my pants. I said that considering it was his pee, he was the one who had wet my pants. I don’t mind spilling on myself once in a while – there’s something not so repulsive about that, but to get someone else’s pee on one is much worse. And I was right – it wasn’t so clear and clean anymore. It also gave off a foul reek which soon overpowered our senses, and watered our eyes.



I then started using the snake in the drain. It was rather tricky since the head would get caught up, so the cable would be spinning at the machine, building up tension in the cable and then suddenly release as the cutter head broke free. I would then be able to push it in farther.

I pulled it back to change the cutter head, and the cable was all full of water and gunk. The head would get caught and the cable would tighten up again, but this time when it broke free it would spatter gunk from the previous immersion. Sometimes it would spatter pretty hard, and as I continued to change heads and work my way through the clog, I was getting quite speckled with gunk. Bob was holding the drain cleaner at an angle for me so I could feed it easier, and he was fairly far away, but not far enough, for one time the spatter got to him. I didn’t apologize. One ought never to apologize to a man who gets spattered with his own poo. After that first big spatter I decided it would be best to keep my mouth tightly closed.

Finally I manage to bring back a chunk of tree root when pulling back the cable, so I begin working that, trying to pull out more roots. I manage to get the big one – looked like a 10” long hair ball, and a lot of stuff came with it, including some small round potatoes. I thought they were rocks, so I picked one up to examine it. Bob asked, “what is that? hickory nuts??” but when I gave a squeeze, I realized what it was, and hastily put it down. “Man, I can’t believe I was just holding one of your turds! That’s disgusting! As if this whole process isn’t disgusting enough I have to go and grab your poo!”

He didn’t apologize. One ought never to apologize to a man who chooses to pick up another man’s turds.

Although Bob thought it was rather funny that I should handle his turds, he was kind enough not to laugh out loud. One ought never to laugh at a man who is holding poo.

“You know, Bob,” I said, eyeing his turds. “Maybe it’s not my place to say this, but I think you ought to consider chewing your food more.”



Bob then asked, “You don’t mind if I let one go, do you?”

“No, go ahead. It might actually improve the smell down here. I think one of my lungs has collapsed.”

About that time I began to notice that the places where the spatters had hit my face and neck were beginning to burn just a bit. “Bob, you eat any Mexican food this week?”

“Yes I did – how can you tell?”

“Your poo has gone nuclear. It’s eating its way through my skin. Any hotter and you wouldn’t need me to clean your drains for you. That must have really hurt coming out.”

“Yes, I tried something I had never heard of before – ‘ghost peppers.’ They really had a kick to them. I think they’re called ghost peppers because they come back to haunt you after you polish them off.”

“Well they’re certainly haunting us both now. Thanks for sharing.”



At that point I had pretty much finished the drain, and was starting to pack up the tools.
“You want to work on the floor drain now?” asked Bob.

“No.”

Bob chuckled.

“Pull the machine over to the drain. My hands are too gunky.”

Bob pulled, and we got it all set up. I put the small head on the cable and began to work it in. While I was doing so, I was muttering to myself. “Get a drain cleaner, I said. It would be good for business, I said. I could clean out people’s drains more often, I said. It would pay for itself in no time, I said. What was I THINKING! Drains involve poo. Poo is nasty.”



Every time I see somebody on the side of the road in a gorilla suit holding an advertisement sign for some business, I shake my head and marvel at what people would do for money. And here I am with a face full of Bob’s burning poo, when I could be outside in the fresh air in a lovely gorilla suit doing nothing more than holding a sign and waving at cars. But no, I had to get a drain cleaner. It’s so cheap, I think. What a bargain, I said. Can’t possibly go wrong, I said.
Thanks for that - I needed a good laugh! :laughing:
With stories like this, no wonder you family is always smiling!
 
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