DisgruntledLionFan#54,927
12-05-2009, 03:07 AM
So after mixing it up socially tonight, I arrived home and remembered that I needed to shut off one of the outside spigots that I had to turn back on and use today. Pipes freezing and bursting is not a fun experience.
Upon arriving in the basement, I notice that around the entire floor's perimeter, there is water seeping out between the floor/wall joint. Sump died, which really isn't a big deal because being the smart guy I am, I already have its replacement on hand.
So I undo the clamps and I'm ready to pull the dead sump out, but I'm finding that something seems to be preventing me from pulling the damn thing out. The stupid cocksucking plumber left the inlet from the drain tile way too long when he did the rough plumb and I can't get the pump around it. Cocksucker.
Now I have to cut this stupid fucking pipe under 18" of water, which is bad enough, but the great thing is that I don't have a hand saw, hacksaw or PVC cutter on hand, so there is no way I can get it done in the next few hours.
So here I sit at 3:05 AM sipping on some Grappa, watching my basement slowly flood, wondering why I'm a magnet for married women, why I never bought that back-up pump and just exactly what I did to piss baby Jesus off.
Maybe it's all in my head.
My bald head.
Upon arriving in the basement, I notice that around the entire floor's perimeter, there is water seeping out between the floor/wall joint. Sump died, which really isn't a big deal because being the smart guy I am, I already have its replacement on hand.
So I undo the clamps and I'm ready to pull the dead sump out, but I'm finding that something seems to be preventing me from pulling the damn thing out. The stupid cocksucking plumber left the inlet from the drain tile way too long when he did the rough plumb and I can't get the pump around it. Cocksucker.
Now I have to cut this stupid fucking pipe under 18" of water, which is bad enough, but the great thing is that I don't have a hand saw, hacksaw or PVC cutter on hand, so there is no way I can get it done in the next few hours.
So here I sit at 3:05 AM sipping on some Grappa, watching my basement slowly flood, wondering why I'm a magnet for married women, why I never bought that back-up pump and just exactly what I did to piss baby Jesus off.
Maybe it's all in my head.
My bald head.