Ew, it's NED

So that plumber guy who was at Mike and Dee's? Loox like he wrote abt his visit in "PlumberGoss", a website where plumbers post stuff abt their clients:

Whoo, m'friends, ya won't be believin' this one. I got a late-night call to one of them firetrap heritage homes in that NotRosedaleNotBeaches part of NotDowntown Toronto. After removin' the commode and water-connection parts to yank out a couple of stinkin' socks, I had to go down to the apartment below to remove somethin' else that was cloggin' things up, yessirree. This was, of course, after the adult male tenant (usin' all but "tenant" loosely there, friends) snatched the baggie containin' the foul socks and instead of disposin' of them, saying "My lucky socks! They're saved! You have to wash these, woman!" And you should have seen the look on that lass's face. Boy, if looks could kill, this guy would have been dead six times over. But then she just heaved a huge sigh, took the baggie by a teeny tiny corner, held it way away from her body, and muttered, "Okay." And put it away somewheres.

So, them downstairs neighbours. Hooboy. Man looked like some missin' link, like you see on those borin' CBC documentaries sometimes, when there ain't no hockey playin' anywheres. They went and banged on the landlady's door while I was workin' in their place. Fulla war memoribilia and scented candles, that cave was, let me tell you. The landlady's place is in the adjoining house, and since the walls are paper thin and everyone was talkin' real loud, I could hear it all. I heard the lady, who was skinny and all pointy, with a carrot-shaped nose, tellin' the landlady, "Look Mrs. Saltzman. The kids upstairs have clogged our plumbing, so it's our right to complain about it!" Then the missin' link guy, he said, "Right now, some guy is bustin' a hole in our bathroom wall. It's an invasion of privacy!" Landlady told them, "So, take a walk. The work must be done." Man said, "We should pay less, for putting up with this!" And the landlady snapped, "I should charge you more for putting up with you!!"

While that was going on, I found what were causin' the clog. An ugly rubber mandoll, with manbits an' everything, lodged in a pipe. I pulled that thing out (Thank Jebus I had my thick rubber gloves on, I mean, yuck!), and then I yelled through the adjoining door, "Folks! I've discovered what was clogging up your sewer system! --Anyone recognize this?!" I held up that THING, and the "man" from the upstairs apartment, who had followed behind the downstairs tenants, shouted out, "It's ... NED!!!" Then. Oh, my God, people, you have to be sittin', alrighty? And if you been eatin' lately, don't read the rest of my story until you done well digested. This manboy, he grabbed the crusty sewer doll, who'd been in the feces place for Dogg knows how long, and said, "NED! How I've missed you old pal! I'm so sorry Weed gave you to Carleen! I'm so sorry my daughter flushed you! I never thought I'd see you again!!!" And then he KISSED the thing! Over and over. I nearly lost my dinner right there on the hall floor, people. Nearly lost it. I swear, in all my years of being a plumber, I thought I'd seen everything. I know you know what I mean. But this takes the cake, eh?

So, yeah. Ned. Yuck. I have a v. bad feeling this st00pid story will continue here next week. Sorry, Zeremy, you know there's a force that guides me to write abt certain things. I'll try not 2 make it way boring if I can help it, eh?

Apes