"Denis Loubet" <dloubet@io.com> wrote in
news:IqCdnZ2dnZ0rsWWYnZ2dnfeaYN-dnZ2dRVn-yJ2dnZ0@io.com:

"Enkidu the Atheist" <jdwnx4702@sneakemail.com> wrote in message
news:Xns96B076FD723D9255229@130.133.1.4...

This week at my house: A True Story by Mrs. Enkidu, my wife

It was a dark and stormy night when........OK it wasn't a dark and
stormy night, but it is a scary story, one of disappointment,
despair, intestinal fortitude, and, in the end, we hope, triumph.

Lurking deep below the cold, forbidding concrete that is the Enkidu's
garage lay a monster. Silently malignant, it crept.

Wednesday, August 10th was like any other day in the happy Enkidu
household. The dutiful wife (stifled chortle) was up early so she
could get to the hospital where lives would be saved, and families
comforted. Dad and girls, still lingering blissfully in their Summer
vacation, woke at their leisure . Plans for the day were made, teeth
were being brushed to a pearly white, showers were in progress, when
suddenly, unexpectedly, it happened. Like magma from the pit of
Hell, water welled up through the (sparkling clean I might add)
toilet bowl in the Family Room bathroom! Like Old Faithful gone mad,
it was relentless. Dad sprung into action - shop vacs and drop
cloths flying. Even the girls battled against the storm, the
youngest hurrying to tell the eldest to, "Hurry, turn off the shower,
it's happening again!" Yes, dear readers, there had been earlier
warnings of the devastation to come, but these had been efficiently,
professionally dealt with. A little rootering and that's that. But
alas, no. That was just a teaser, just a taunt.

Again a team of professionals was summoned to the once happy
household and solemnly reported their unhappy findings: tree roots.
Yes, while merrily photosynthesizing on the surface, below ground
their roots slowly encircled the geriatric plumbing and placed it in
a murderous choke hold until it could no longer withstand the
pressure and it snapped! It's life drained away - leaving the house
and it's inhabitants no way to drain away anything.

And now here were the Enkidus, with no showers to rinse away the
weary remains of the day, no toilets to...well you know what those
are for, no way to make that poetic. That night was spent in Hotel
Dread, the desk clerk looking like an escapee from a Behavioral
Health lock-down unit. The next day the crews arrived, jack-hammers
and strong coffee in hand.

But what about the Enkidu's busy social calendar? The hosted
cocktail parties, the nights on the town? What were they to do?
Surely bringing a temporary au pair to the house to watch the little
darlings was out of the question. Undaunted, determined to be the
socialites they were born to be, alternate plans were made and
overnight lodgings were acquired for the children. At least one
small part of Mr & Ms Enkidu's life was returned to normalcy.

This saga does not end here, it continues as I sit here with my
computer and I merrily bounce to the lulling vibrations of the
jackhammer. The garage floor and driveway, once benign, serving
their purpose, are now torn apart as the autopsy continues. The
family pieces together their day with trips to the YMCA, local
restaurants, and, if they're lucky, the neighbors.

What? No plots of revenge against the leafy green monsters
responsible? This could have been the origin story of a dark
anti-hero, driven to avenge the death of his plumbing and garage. What
sinister form would he take? What powers beyond mortal ken would be
his?

I think I hear a chain saw in the distance. Muhahahaha!

"Denis Loubet" <dloubet@io.com> wrote in
news:IqCdnZ2dnZ0rsWWYnZ2dnfeaYN-dnZ2dRVn-yJ2dnZ0@io.com:

"Enkidu the Atheist" <jdwnx4702@sneakemail.com> wrote in message
news:Xns96B076FD723D9255229@130.133.1.4...

This week at my house: A True Story by Mrs. Enkidu, my wife

It was a dark and stormy night when........OK it wasn't a dark and
stormy night, but it is a scary story, one of disappointment,
despair, intestinal fortitude, and, in the end, we hope, triumph.

Lurking deep below the cold, forbidding concrete that is the Enkidu's
garage lay a monster. Silently malignant, it crept.

Wednesday, August 10th was like any other day in the happy Enkidu
household. The dutiful wife (stifled chortle) was up early so she
could get to the hospital where lives would be saved, and families
comforted. Dad and girls, still lingering blissfully in their Summer
vacation, woke at their leisure . Plans for the day were made, teeth
were being brushed to a pearly white, showers were in progress, when
suddenly, unexpectedly, it happened. Like magma from the pit of
Hell, water welled up through the (sparkling clean I might add)
toilet bowl in the Family Room bathroom! Like Old Faithful gone mad,
it was relentless. Dad sprung into action - shop vacs and drop
cloths flying. Even the girls battled against the storm, the
youngest hurrying to tell the eldest to, "Hurry, turn off the shower,
it's happening again!" Yes, dear readers, there had been earlier
warnings of the devastation to come, but these had been efficiently,
professionally dealt with. A little rootering and that's that. But
alas, no. That was just a teaser, just a taunt.

Again a team of professionals was summoned to the once happy
household and solemnly reported their unhappy findings: tree roots.
Yes, while merrily photosynthesizing on the surface, below ground
their roots slowly encircled the geriatric plumbing and placed it in
a murderous choke hold until it could no longer withstand the
pressure and it snapped! It's life drained away - leaving the house
and it's inhabitants no way to drain away anything.

And now here were the Enkidus, with no showers to rinse away the
weary remains of the day, no toilets to...well you know what those
are for, no way to make that poetic. That night was spent in Hotel
Dread, the desk clerk looking like an escapee from a Behavioral
Health lock-down unit. The next day the crews arrived, jack-hammers
and strong coffee in hand.

But what about the Enkidu's busy social calendar? The hosted
cocktail parties, the nights on the town? What were they to do?
Surely bringing a temporary au pair to the house to watch the little
darlings was out of the question. Undaunted, determined to be the
socialites they were born to be, alternate plans were made and
overnight lodgings were acquired for the children. At least one
small part of Mr & Ms Enkidu's life was returned to normalcy.

This saga does not end here, it continues as I sit here with my
computer and I merrily bounce to the lulling vibrations of the
jackhammer. The garage floor and driveway, once benign, serving
their purpose, are now torn apart as the autopsy continues. The
family pieces together their day with trips to the YMCA, local
restaurants, and, if they're lucky, the neighbors.

What? No plots of revenge against the leafy green monsters
responsible? This could have been the origin story of a dark
anti-hero, driven to avenge the death of his plumbing and garage. What
sinister form would he take? What powers beyond mortal ken would be
his?

I think I hear a chain saw in the distance. Muhahahaha!

I think I hear a chain saw in the distance. Muhahahaha!

chibiabos <chib@outreach.com> wrote in
news:120820051549358134%chib@outreach.com:

In article <Xns96B076FD723D9255229@130.133.1.4>, Enkidu the Atheist
<jdwnx4702@sneakemail.com> wrote:

This saga does not end here, it continues as I sit here with my
computer and I merrily bounce to the lulling vibrations of the
jackhammer. The garage floor and driveway, once benign, serving
their purpose, are now torn apart as the autopsy continues. The
family pieces together their day with trips to the YMCA, local
restaurants, and, if they're lucky, the neighbors.

Hilarious! Hope things improve soon!

You gotta love modern life, though. Whenever I go into the woods and
use one of their "undeveloped" restrooms, I have to wonder at the
sheer intestinal fortitude of our ancestors who lacked indoor plumbing
and, basically, the sheer, redolent, bubbling volume of ***** that has
accumulated over the centuries.

Imagine Manhattan in 1850. No sewage treatment, just lots of *****.
People *****, dog *****, horse *****, every kind of *****.