There are two kinds of men in this world: those who have faced the urinal clog, and those who will.
Greg stood there, breathing hard, the plunger dripping in his hand. The man in the pinstripe suit had stopped crying and was staring at him with something like awe. urinal clog
For a moment, nothing. Then a deep, plumbing groan—the building’s ancient pipes waking from a long slumber. Greg pushed harder. The water wobbled. He pulled up. The water sucked down an inch. Hope flared. There are two kinds of men in this
He did the only thing a reasonable man could do. He stopped mid-stream. nothing. Then a deep