*collapses against wall*
May. 16th, 2002 10:24 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mousmeWell, that's a relief.
The back story to that comment is as follows: I get home after an evening of blowing away Nazis and begin preparing for bed, when the exhaust fan in the bathroom decides it hates me and begins making an annoyed (and annoying) loud angry buzzing sound which refuses to cease.
Thoroughly panicked at the thought of an electrical fire now taking place behind my cream–coloured walls, I hastily shed my pajamas and don my civilian clothes and head downstairs.
Charles, the doorman whom I've mentioned once or twice before, lends a sympathetic ear to my plea for help, and comes to investigate. He fiddles with the electrical breakers for a while, then listens more carefully to my description of the problem.
A sudden inspiration allows him to discover that the problem is not in fact the fan, but the toilet. It appears the plunger (or whatever that metal rod with the big rubber ball at the end is called) got stuck and was pressed against something or other, which was vibrating and making enough noise to raise the dead and then some.
He fixed it, and now the apartment is quiet once more.
Otherwise my day was uneventful, although I will take this opportunity to rant a bit.
What is it with people who own Subaru Outbacks who think they're Paul Hogan? I'd really like to know. They own a station wagon with a funky commercial attached to it and suddenly they think they're the masters of the universe. Reality check: Subarus suck!
Even if they didn't, it's not a license to try and kill me in my car when on the autoroute! *grr*
I was the victim of four —count them, four— unprovoked incidents of poor–assed driving by Subaru Outbacks today. Twice on the way to work, twice on the way back. Those people are nuts! They think their stupid two–bit piece of plastic and aluminum alloy is a match for my two–ton steel station wagon, and they drive as though they were bloody well invincible.
Hello?!?!
The road is dangerous out there! If you drive like an ass, you're going to end up with yours hanging out your own windshield like a really tacky hood ornament!
End rant.
Have tons of stuff to do tomorrow. Must get up earlyish.
The back story to that comment is as follows: I get home after an evening of blowing away Nazis and begin preparing for bed, when the exhaust fan in the bathroom decides it hates me and begins making an annoyed (and annoying) loud angry buzzing sound which refuses to cease.
Thoroughly panicked at the thought of an electrical fire now taking place behind my cream–coloured walls, I hastily shed my pajamas and don my civilian clothes and head downstairs.
Charles, the doorman whom I've mentioned once or twice before, lends a sympathetic ear to my plea for help, and comes to investigate. He fiddles with the electrical breakers for a while, then listens more carefully to my description of the problem.
A sudden inspiration allows him to discover that the problem is not in fact the fan, but the toilet. It appears the plunger (or whatever that metal rod with the big rubber ball at the end is called) got stuck and was pressed against something or other, which was vibrating and making enough noise to raise the dead and then some.
He fixed it, and now the apartment is quiet once more.
Otherwise my day was uneventful, although I will take this opportunity to rant a bit.
What is it with people who own Subaru Outbacks who think they're Paul Hogan? I'd really like to know. They own a station wagon with a funky commercial attached to it and suddenly they think they're the masters of the universe. Reality check: Subarus suck!
Even if they didn't, it's not a license to try and kill me in my car when on the autoroute! *grr*
I was the victim of four —count them, four— unprovoked incidents of poor–assed driving by Subaru Outbacks today. Twice on the way to work, twice on the way back. Those people are nuts! They think their stupid two–bit piece of plastic and aluminum alloy is a match for my two–ton steel station wagon, and they drive as though they were bloody well invincible.
Hello?!?!
The road is dangerous out there! If you drive like an ass, you're going to end up with yours hanging out your own windshield like a really tacky hood ornament!
End rant.
Have tons of stuff to do tomorrow. Must get up earlyish.
