Holes In My Logic...er...Deck
Home Renovations, Season 1, Episode 2.
By now you're no doubt thinking, "Oh, please dispense with the hyperbole. Could your deck really have been so bad that you needed to do a complete overhaul of it? Safety hazard? Seriously? Death trap? For real? Sting? Conclusively?" If you don't believe it, then here's the hard, photographic evidence:
See? Told you so; you could fit a small child in there! In fact for a while we were even considering putting a small child in there. I figured we could just head to the orphanage, pick out the cretin of our choice, and we'd be on our way to cheap labour! Sadly it turned out that the orphanage in my imagination has very little to do with reality. Curse you Charles Dickens for giving me false hopes!
The next problem we faced with the deck was the removal of the old rotted wood. Or rather, removing entire boards, parts of which were rotted, parts of which were still strongly attached to the understructure. If only every square inch of the deck was rotted, it would have been a cakewalk! Actually, any type of dancing--cakewalk or otherwise--would have provided enough force to remove the boards if they were that rotten. But we needed something that could provide a little more force than mere dancing. And most definitely more force than that which a malnourished little bastard child could provide as well.
"Please sir, could you spare some gruel? I'm ever so weak from hunger, and I shan't be able to fix your deck without sustenance. And your dismal photoshopping skills have made me look even thinner than I am already!"
Without a means of removing the boards, this project would be Fubar before it even began. What to do?
By now you're no doubt thinking, "Oh, please dispense with the hyperbole. Could your deck really have been so bad that you needed to do a complete overhaul of it? Safety hazard? Seriously? Death trap? For real? Sting? Conclusively?" If you don't believe it, then here's the hard, photographic evidence:
See? Told you so; you could fit a small child in there! In fact for a while we were even considering putting a small child in there. I figured we could just head to the orphanage, pick out the cretin of our choice, and we'd be on our way to cheap labour! Sadly it turned out that the orphanage in my imagination has very little to do with reality. Curse you Charles Dickens for giving me false hopes!
The next problem we faced with the deck was the removal of the old rotted wood. Or rather, removing entire boards, parts of which were rotted, parts of which were still strongly attached to the understructure. If only every square inch of the deck was rotted, it would have been a cakewalk! Actually, any type of dancing--cakewalk or otherwise--would have provided enough force to remove the boards if they were that rotten. But we needed something that could provide a little more force than mere dancing. And most definitely more force than that which a malnourished little bastard child could provide as well.
"Please sir, could you spare some gruel? I'm ever so weak from hunger, and I shan't be able to fix your deck without sustenance. And your dismal photoshopping skills have made me look even thinner than I am already!"
Without a means of removing the boards, this project would be Fubar before it even began. What to do?
Labels: half-assed handyman repair jobs, heartless Dickensian villainy, Rancho Relaxo