We would've known what to do if they weren't at their stupid Jehovah meeting...

For those of you who've lost faith in God:
don't count the Old Man out just yet--
He still smites, therefore He still exists.

Came home to what
for the sake of sparing you gruesome details
could be categorically considered
a plumbing disaster.

I know what you're thinking:
how perfect, since I'm a plumber, right?
Wrong.
See, 'plumber' is a term commonly misused
to describe my union brethren and me.
We are technically 'pipefitters'
who install piping systems of various sorts
that transport various fluids
so we don't encounter actual human excrement
quite as often as you'd like to assume.
Catastrophes such as this
still come as a shock to us.

My roommate and I
spent a good five hours in my crawlspace
snaking out waste lines in an attempt
to locate and neutralize the stoppage.
The trusty process of elimination
told me that the problem was further down
the main outside of the house
but the snake I borrowed didn't reach that far.

When all else failed we dug up the lid
to the septic tank and pulled it off.
Sure enough, there was our problem:
a massive wad of tampons.

If you don't see the irony in this
you obviously haven't read my last little number
which is probably for the best.
I have been punished for lashing out
against our Maker's finest creation.
Unfortunately, my buddy had to suffer alongside me
but hey, you know what misery loves.

So now, after calling out of work
to deal with the aftermath
I'm off to the supply house
to gather parts needed to reinstall our toilet.
And girls, for the almighty love of
He Who Speaks Loud and Clear via Ironic Afflictions--
try to remember not to flush your rag
down the toilet from now on.