(note: apparently Blogger is trying to commit suicide rather than let loose several paragraphs of me talking about toilet installation; at this point, I've been trying to post this for about two hours. I've put more effort into this post than into some relationships.)
6:30 p.m. update: it's a photo holding this whole thing up -- Blogger's upload function is kaput. I do, contrary to appearances, have things to do, so I'm just gonna chop out the photograph-reliant portion and post that later.
I woke up at seven this morning with an aching head and a chronically running toilet down the hall; by 10 a.m. I still had the headache, had a new toilet and was out $480. I'll spare you photos, since I didn't actually do this myself, but it was a bit instructive. If I'd done this, it would have become a month-long saga of toiletlessness ("6/18/06: bucket full, need a new one. Soon the new toilet will be installed"). In the hands of professionals, it took a few hours.
I should state here that I got the new toilet because the old one was something like 40 years old, and the plumber's quote to fix it was $250 or so, without warranty. I didn't change the toilet, as some have suggested, because I didn't want to clean the old one. Hmph.
Perhaps, also, I've missed a trick: there's got to be vintage toilet collectors on the internet. Maybe I should've had them leave the old device and seen what I could get for it on toiletcollectors.com.
* * *
After a date last night, I went to bed shockingly early (and soberly), by my standards. But around midnight or so, I woke up and had one hell of a time getting back to sleep -- I was exhausted, I wanted sleep, but it just wouldn't come. I ended up playing Eastside Hockey Manager for hours -- for a hockey fan, that's about as addictive as nicotine-coated heroin. If you start feeling bad about your life, consider this: at 2 a.m. I was trying to coach HC Sparta Praha to the Czech championship. We're currently in third place, but with the pickup of Jan Hlaváč, things are looking up. Oh, God, what have I become?
* * *
A few blocks down from me, there's an absolutely spectacular beer store -- but they must have the most wildly inconsistent distributors on earth, because while they always have a great selection, you can't count on seeing the same beer twice. Today I stopped by to get a bottle of wine for a new-home-owning friend, and to restock my sadly empty fridge. But current favorite Duvel -- which is in most grocery stores in town -- wasn't there. Nor was almost-as-well-loved and even-more-frequently-available Pranqster. But Krušovice -- a Czech beer I've never seen on this side of the Atlantic, and trust me, I pursue these things -- was suddenly available. As were a whole bunch of Polish beers that I've never seen. If they ever get it together and have all my favorite beers in at once, and get Czechvar/Budvar back in, I will be one happy (and drunk, and fat) man.
* * *
The Stanley Cup Finals start tonight, and I still haven't really worked out who I'm going to root for. I suspect that it'll be one of those things where I figure it out as the series goes along -- who will capture my heart? That makes it sound, I realize, like I'm going to wait to see who's skating around the ice with the Cup to decide. I'm not that bad. The deciding factor may be Chris Pronger, a guy I find it virtually impossible to cheer against. Random Pronger story: some years back, I was at a game at the then-Kiel Center in St. Louis, and bought a Pronger jersey. Riding the train back to the hotel afterwards, a young boy said to his father: "Daddy, that's Chris Pronger!" If only the girls in the bars of St. L were that suggestible.
* * *
Most interesting search terms that have led someone to this site lately: "Things men hate to admit." Someone also got here by doing a blog search on "Hamas," and I imagine they were rather confused to be led to a bit about my romantic life.
I should also note that this is the number one site on Google for "'kirk maltby' + gonorrhea" and "'kirk maltby' + testicle." If someone ever actually visits this site through one of those searches, I'll buy everyone here a round.
* * *
Denver's own Brian Ed Sauer -- the guy who taught me most of what I know about soccer, and who knows far more about the sport that he wouldn't tell me -- will be blogging the World Cup starting in a few days. I'll link as soon as there's something there beyond a placeholder. Sauer really does know a shitload about the sport, and is a hell of a writer besides. So check it out. (once it's up, I mean.)
(and the Czechs are gonna win, Brian.)