It’s Not That I Don’t Trust The Recalcitrant Brother…

I just trust Sarcastro more.  See, it’s like this.  Sarcastro, as Exador will tell you, is physically incapable of being wrong.  So, if you call him up and ask, “Is my brother going to explode my pipes if he puts a snake down there?” and he says, “Probably not,” you know things are most likely going to be okay.


But if you ask the recalcitrant brother, “Are you going to explode my pipes if you put a snake down there?” and he says, “Probably not,” it’s only just because the pipes are actually going to catch fire and aliens will land and you’ll end up explaining to the FBI why Jimmy Hoffa’s corpse has suddenly launched onto I-440.


But I’ve got to tell you, it went just fine.  I mean, true, the recalcitrant brother is a plumber by trade, so he ought to be able to do this stuff just fine.  But it was still cool to watch him be all professional and competent and…


Ha, he says if I’m going to be blogging about him, I’d better call him “Heroic.”


So, the heroic recalcitrant brother has fixed my clogged drain and done it in such a way that the Butcher and I now think we could do it ourselves in the future.


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