HAPP-ENINGS | MICHAEL HAPP - PUBLISHER
Late last Wednesday night, with the world still recovering from a late-season blizzard, I found myself bent over the tank of my toilet.
I am not a plumber. Not surprisingly, I am the furthest thing from a plumber. I know the basics—everything, for the most part, goes downhill—but outside of that, to me, the innerworkings in the tank of my toilet is about as foreign to me as what is under the hood of my car.
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