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Post by jetstream23 on Mar 8, 2015 1:03:35 GMT -5
Jesus Christ! 3 inch lags? If the plywood was properly secured, I dunno why you'd take the trouble of lagging through it. Most of the weight of the microwave is held by the bolts that go through the cabinet above it.
Overkill? Maybe. But you'll be the only person in the neighborhood with a functioning microwave after a devastating earthquake, lol :-) You had more fun than me today. I spent the day in a 2 foot crawlspace repiping a house that froze up. For fucking free too. Betsy needs to stop telling her friends that I'm a plumber. Anytime someone hears you're a plumber...the conversation is immediately followed by questions about your availability on weekends. I'm not too concerned about the pay to be honest. They cooked me the best beef brisket sandwiches I've ever had. He's an engineer. Redundancy is their middle name It's also their last name.
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Post by leftturn3 on Mar 8, 2015 8:27:39 GMT -5
Removed an old over the range microwave and installed a new one today, with only one trip to Home Despot. Turns out the old one was barely attached to the wall. Amazing it didn't fall. Had to fur the wall out with a 3/4" sheet of plywood so the new one would fit, amongst other things. Lagged that bitch to the studs with 1/4"x3 1/2" lags. Had to use 3 1/2" to get through the 3/4 plywood, 3/4" cabinet conglomerate, and 1/2" rock. Had to fur out the top cabinet, too. And the new power cord location, of course, did not line up with the old. Used a 1 3/4" forstner bit for the new hole, worked like a charm. Jesus Christ! 3 inch lags? If the plywood was properly secured, I dunno why you'd take the trouble of lagging through it. Most of the weight of the microwave is held by the bolts that go through the cabinet above it. Overkill? Maybe. But you'll be the only person in the neighborhood with a functioning microwave after a devastating earthquake, lol :-) You had more fun than me today. I spent the day in a 2 foot crawlspace repiping a house that froze up. For fucking free too. Betsy needs to stop telling her friends that I'm a plumber. Anytime someone hears you're a plumber...the conversation is immediately followed by questions about your availability on weekends. I'm not too concerned about the pay to be honest. They cooked me the best beef brisket sandwiches I've ever had. That's too funny. I did one kitchen remodel for a friend and lost 5yrs of my weekends. I have have done dozens of microwaves and have secured the back mount with nothing more than the screw in Sheetrock anchors. You are correct PK, most of the wt is held from above, and what kind of wt is anyone cocking in a microwave. Bottom line, however it got done Big, good for you for doing it yourself and not paying some jamoke to instal.
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Post by The Tax Returns Are in Kenya on Mar 8, 2015 9:59:31 GMT -5
He's an engineer. Redundancy is their middle name It's also their last name.
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Post by BEAC0NJET on Mar 8, 2015 10:40:22 GMT -5
He's an engineer. Redundancy is their middle name It's also their last name. Wouldnt that be..... nevermind
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Post by Deleted on Mar 8, 2015 11:07:00 GMT -5
Many of my neighborhood friends and work colleagues use mildly pejorative terms such as "Poncho" or "Pendejo", when addressing their hired help. Even though I'm sure it's meant in jest or to be a "buddy" of sorts, to me, this seems borderline gauche and semi-professional. Instead, I've found "pequeño puto" endears me to the work crew. As I don't want them to get the jitters from my brewed coffee, I always offer disposable jugs of Masala chai. I bet you have people clamoring to work for you "Clamoring" might be a bit strong. But, at its heart, I believe you to be correct. And you know why? Because my hired help sees me as an empathetic human being, not just as a steady stream of monetary compensation. One who offers reasonably fresh petite fours, fine cheese ends, and other snacks my family no longer would tolerate, but these folk scarf down with abandon. Just the other day I saw one of landscaping crew (let's call him "muchacho") planting spring annuals and shrubs looking particularly sullen. Not one to let emotions fester and productivity decline precipitously, through my rudimentary Ecuadoran and myriad hand gestures, I was able to ascertain that "muchacho" had problems at home with what I believe is colloquially referred to as his "baby mama". In a bit of on-the-spot snap inspiration, I quickly dashed into my garage, emerging with my full set of hand carved golf clubs, as well as an array of organic cleansing products and micro fiber cloths. Why you might ask? In what I later saw as divine inspiration, I proposed the idea which would both embolden "muchacho's" spirits and wash away the problems at home with his vixen. As they had been horribly soiled earlier in the day whilst playing a quick 18 at my club (I will post my verbal undressing of Mr. Doran, the club's groundsman, as to the ghastly muddy state of the course in the future), I instructed "muchacho" to purge the clubs of their luster-robbing grime, restoring them to their original semi-pristine gleam. Generous to a fault, I offered 50 cents per club. The quizzical expression on his face belied "muchacho's" obvious appreciation, relief, and gratitude to me for solving his woes. Never one to bask in self-apotheosis, I quickly surmised that "muchacho's" problems at home had been dispatched through my quick thinking, and so set forth toward my den to enjoy a well-deserved Rooibos iced tea, lightly spiked with honey-infused limoncello. I also instructed Nestor, the landscaping "captain" supervising the yard work, to go into my garage to fetch a new garden hose (drinking water safe, of course) for his crew to employ should they require refreshment.
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Post by The Tax Returns Are in Kenya on Mar 8, 2015 12:18:50 GMT -5
I bet you have people clamoring to work for you "Clamoring" might be a bit strong. But, at its heart, I believe you to be correct. And you know why? Because my hired help sees me as an empathetic human being, not just as a steady stream of monetary compensation. One who offers reasonably fresh petite fours, fine cheese ends, and other snacks my family no longer would tolerate, but these folk scarf down with abandon. Just the other day I saw one of landscaping crew (let's call him "muchacho") planting spring annuals and shrubs looking particularly sullen. Not one to let emotions fester and productivity decline precipitously, through my rudimentary Ecuadoran and myriad hand gestures, I was able to ascertain that "muchacho" had problems at home with what I believe is colloquially referred to as his "baby mama". In a bit of on-the-spot snap inspiration, I quickly dashed into my garage, emerging with my full set of hand carved golf clubs, as well as an array of organic cleansing products and micro fiber cloths. Why you might ask? In what I later saw as divine inspiration, I proposed the idea which would both embolden "muchacho's" spirits and wash away the problems at home with his vixen. As they had been horribly soiled earlier in the day whilst playing a quick 18 at my club (I will post my verbal undressing of Mr. Doran, the club's groundsman, as to the ghastly muddy state of the course in the future), I instructed "muchacho" to purge the clubs of their luster-robbing grime, restoring them to their original semi-pristine gleam. Generous to a fault, I offered 50 cents per club. The quizzical expression on his face belied "muchacho's" obvious appreciation, relief, and gratitude to me for solving his woes. Never one to bask in self-apotheosis, I quickly surmised that "muchacho's" problems at home had been dispatched through my quick thinking, and so set forth toward my den to enjoy a well-deserved Rooibos iced tea, lightly spiked with honey-infused limoncello. I also instructed Nestor, the landscaping "captain" supervising the yard work, to go into my garage to fetch a new garden hose (drinking water safe, of course) for his crew to employ should they require refreshment. You're such an asshole you don't even know what is meant by "home improvement"
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Post by Deleted on Mar 8, 2015 12:55:21 GMT -5
"Clamoring" might be a bit strong. But, at its heart, I believe you to be correct. And you know why? Because my hired help sees me as an empathetic human being, not just as a steady stream of monetary compensation. One who offers reasonably fresh petite fours, fine cheese ends, and other snacks my family no longer would tolerate, but these folk scarf down with abandon. Just the other day I saw one of landscaping crew (let's call him "muchacho") planting spring annuals and shrubs looking particularly sullen. Not one to let emotions fester and productivity decline precipitously, through my rudimentary Ecuadoran and myriad hand gestures, I was able to ascertain that "muchacho" had problems at home with what I believe is colloquially referred to as his "baby mama". In a bit of on-the-spot snap inspiration, I quickly dashed into my garage, emerging with my full set of hand carved golf clubs, as well as an array of organic cleansing products and micro fiber cloths. Why you might ask? In what I later saw as divine inspiration, I proposed the idea which would both embolden "muchacho's" spirits and wash away the problems at home with his vixen. As they had been horribly soiled earlier in the day whilst playing a quick 18 at my club (I will post my verbal undressing of Mr. Doran, the club's groundsman, as to the ghastly muddy state of the course in the future), I instructed "muchacho" to purge the clubs of their luster-robbing grime, restoring them to their original semi-pristine gleam. Generous to a fault, I offered 50 cents per club. The quizzical expression on his face belied "muchacho's" obvious appreciation, relief, and gratitude to me for solving his woes. Never one to bask in self-apotheosis, I quickly surmised that "muchacho's" problems at home had been dispatched through my quick thinking, and so set forth toward my den to enjoy a well-deserved Rooibos iced tea, lightly spiked with honey-infused limoncello. I also instructed Nestor, the landscaping "captain" supervising the yard work, to go into my garage to fetch a new garden hose (drinking water safe, of course) for his crew to employ should they require refreshment. You're such an asshole you don't even know what is meant by "home improvement" So, in your universe, keeping one's planting beds in tip top shape means nothing? I can't imagine the mental and emotional toll I would endure should I ever find myself in war zone or decaying suburban community where the landscape arts are not taken with heartfelt brio.
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Post by jay57 on Mar 8, 2015 15:12:52 GMT -5
There you go with the "Muchacho"...
Ok Spoonfed/Jetsbling, if you are not Borgo quit with the Borgo lingo. Otherwise just admit it and stop being an asshole.
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Post by Deleted on Mar 8, 2015 15:56:52 GMT -5
There you go with the "Muchacho"... Ok Spoonfed/Jetsbling, if you are not Borgo quit with the Borgo lingo. Otherwise just admit it and stop being an asshole. What? I was just using the vernacular for "kid" in spanish. Not trying to impersonate anyone. What, that guy had a monopoly on the term? It's used every day by thousands of hispanics and gringos alike.
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Post by Big L on Mar 8, 2015 16:44:55 GMT -5
Stop fuckin up my thread!
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Post by Big L on Mar 8, 2015 16:48:00 GMT -5
Replaced the guts of a toilet today. The flapper wasn't sitting right, and slowly leaking, so the bowl would occasionally refill itself. All my flapper tricks didn't work. Got a Koheller terlet, with the three bolt configuration. The replacement kits don't account for that. And last time I recall not being able to find the three bolt gasket. Has to reuse the existing gasket, but nothing I could do. Terlet works like a charm now.
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Post by Hotman on Mar 8, 2015 17:19:38 GMT -5
Replaced the guts of a toilet today. The flapper wasn't sitting right, and slowly leaking, so the bowl would occasionally refill itself. All my flapper tricks didn't work. Got a Koheller terlet, with the three bolt configuration. The replacement kits don't account for that. And last time I recall not being able to find the three bolt gasket. Has to reuse the existing gasket, but nothing I could do. Terlet works like a charm now. Should have gone with a bidet.
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Post by The Tax Returns Are in Kenya on Mar 8, 2015 17:25:16 GMT -5
Replaced the guts of a toilet today. The flapper wasn't sitting right, and slowly leaking, so the bowl would occasionally refill itself. All my flapper tricks didn't work. Got a Koheller terlet, with the three bolt configuration. The replacement kits don't account for that. And last time I recall not being able to find the three bolt gasket. Has to reuse the existing gasket, but nothing I could do. Terlet works like a charm now. OK but what did you do?How did you totally overdesign it?
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Post by PK on Mar 9, 2015 7:30:03 GMT -5
Replaced the guts of a toilet today. The flapper wasn't sitting right, and slowly leaking, so the bowl would occasionally refill itself. All my flapper tricks didn't work. Got a Koheller terlet, with the three bolt configuration. The replacement kits don't account for that. And last time I recall not being able to find the three bolt gasket. Has to reuse the existing gasket, but nothing I could do. Terlet works like a charm now. Here's what you do: Get rid of the Kohler toilet. Smoke a blunt.
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Post by Deleted on Mar 9, 2015 8:20:44 GMT -5
Replaced the guts of a toilet today. The flapper wasn't sitting right, and slowly leaking, so the bowl would occasionally refill itself. All my flapper tricks didn't work. Got a Koheller terlet, with the three bolt configuration. The replacement kits don't account for that. And last time I recall not being able to find the three bolt gasket. Has to reuse the existing gasket, but nothing I could do. Terlet works like a charm now. Here's what you do: Get rid of the Kohler toilet. Smoke a blunt. My life changed when I discovered Toto toilets. Powerful, yet quiet flushing assembly. Beyond reliable.
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