Weenie is a pretty common term among cave divers, both to describe a person and as a verb, as in "I weenied on the dive when I was only a mile into the cave." So, I wouldn't count that as gay.
I just finished jury-rigging a toilet repair, since I really, really, really didn't want to rebuild it, although I have done it before. BF informs me this morning, at an inopportune moment, that "the dealy is broken." I didn't ask _which_ dealy, until I went to flush and nothing happened.
Apparently, the plastic dealy that connects to the flapper dealy that lets water out had broken off. At first I didn't see how it could be repaired, or even replaced without replacing _everything_, but it came to me as I was driving home and noticed the little pile of safety pins that I have in case I have to pin on a race number or somone else needs them.
So I stuck a safety pin through the end of the plastic dealy (which in normal tiolets is a chain, I believe) and through the plastic flapper dealy, and it worked!!! Ah, saved.
NOW it's time to take the torts out. Poor little guys are asleep.
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"...I'm like the cycling version of the guy in Flowers for Algernon." Mike Magnuson