A Treaties on Toilets

Ah, the comfort of a toilet. Always there when nature calls, unless nature is calling in nature. Always a source of relief. A companion. We have given this piece of porcelain engineering many names. A john, a pot, a toity, the throne, the hole, a head, the commode. We are said to do many things together, taking your repose, driving the bus, praying to the porcelain god, just to name a few.

Nothing causes more consternation that when our bathroom friend breaks. The question, where, becomes the main issue. If your lucky, you have a second friend lurking on the other side of your house, willing to take up the ensuing increase in business. If not, you pray the plumber comes quickly!

My friend had an accident yesterday. My friend broke. We are thankful it was only a simple fracture, easily fixed. No public outcry in this house. It seems that someone, who shall remain nameless, (my husband) was more that Mr. John could bear upon him. Mr. John cried out his pain, and split in two pieces, right where the flesh hits the pavement. The nameless person (my husband) was unaware of the pain he caused Mr. John, and left it in shambles awaiting my repose. It was a shocking and biting experience when that was found. Mr. John made it clear in no uncertain terms that "Houston, we have a problem".

Luckily, our neighbor is a plumber that has a whole shed of new bits and pieces for us to chose from to bring Mr. John back to his original appearance and use.

Mr. John is a happy camper once again, and so is my backside!

In other news, I turned a new tier on the FPS. Only 4 more of those to go! WOOHOO!