Erby

You just need a BIGGER can, MIKE. -

Ben, Tie a can under your nose. It'll keep your clothes dry if you empty it regularly. -

I don't bother reminding them about my "outrageous fee" but I usually also include a picture or two from the high point of the roof at the beginning of the roofing section. I don't pull blower fans but I do usually wiggle it and stick my camera in to get a picture of the fan blades to see what condition they're in. Find some interesting stuff riding the fan blades. Click to Enlarge 41.63 KB Click to Enlarge 70.01 KB -

May not matter on a circular burner but a furnace burner needs a different slope for the different fuels. LP runs downhill - Natural gas runs uphill. Or is it the opposite? Convertible units exist but are "supposed to be" clearly labeled as having been converted from one to the other. -

The largest majority of 100 plus year old fireplaces I see around Kentucky are coal burning fireplaces. Way shallow with metal grate to hold the coal off the floor and a metal cover to radiate the heat into the room. Sometimes the cover is still there. Sometimes not. In any case, they're mostly useless nowadays, though I've seen a few with funky gas logs installed in them. Click to Enlarge 44.97 KB Click to Enlarge 40.6 KB -

How was the water pressure at that sink if you unplugged the pump?

I really hate to see you stressing out over those twenty dollar bills, MIke. Please let me relieve you of that stress. Just send all those twenty dollar bills to me and I'll be happy to take care of them for you. -

I've always just heard it as a joke. But most jokes have some basis in truth, back there somwhere. Myth or truth? Beats me! Funny nonetheless. -

It might be a weep hole with the wick removed but, like Bain, I've seen a LOT of "drilled" weepholes around here. -

Dead shrimp in the curtain rods??? ============================================= The Curtain Rods She spent the first day packing her belongings into boxes, crates and suitcases. On the second day, she had the movers come and collect her things. On the third day, she sat down for the last time at their beautiful dining room table by candle light, put on some soft background music and feasted on a pound of shrimp, a jar of caviar and a bottle of Chardonnay. When she had finished, she went into each and every room and deposited a few half-eaten shrimp shells dipped in caviar, into the hollow of the curtain rods. She then cleaned up the kitchen and left. When the husband returned with his new girlfriend, all was bliss for the first few days. Then slowly, the house began to smell. They tried everything cleaning, mopping and airing the place out. Vents were checked for dead rodents and carpets were steam cleaned. Air fresheners were hung everywhere. Exterminators were brought in to set off gas canisters, during which they had to move out for a few days, and in the end they even paid to replace the expensive wool carpeting. Nothing worked. People stopped coming over to visit. Repairmen refused to work in the house. The maid quit. Finally, they could not take the stench any longer and decided to move. A month later, even though they had cut their price in half, they could not find a buyer for their stinky house. Word got out and eventually even the local Realtors refused to return their calls. Finally, they had to borrow a huge sum of money from the bank to purchase a new place. The ex-wife called the man and asked how things were going. He told her the saga of the rotting house. She listened politely and said that she missed her old home terribly, and would be willing to reduce her divorce settlement in exchange for getting the house back. Knowing his ex-wife had no idea how bad the smell was, he agreed on a price that was about 1/10th of what the house had been worth, but only if she were to sign the papers that very day. She agreed and within the hour his lawyers delivered the paperwork. A week later the man and his girlfriend stood smiling as they watched the moving company pack everything to take to their new home......Including the curtain rods.

Yo, Chad. Put on your big girl panties and deal with it. Heard that from my sister-in-law in upstate New Yawk a few months ago. Couldn't resist. -

I've only had one like that. (yeah, I learned to support the upper sash before twisting the lock.) It didn't break anything but it sure as hell smashed my fingers wrapped around the lower sash. Hurt like hell and I needed help getting that slow hand out of the window. Better you find the defective window now, instead of a child finding it when they opened the window. You operated it normally. It failed. Seller should fix it before someone else gets hurt. -

Likely the valley metal doesn't extend far enough up under the roof. Water is overrunnin the valley up under the opposing side and overflowing. Don't know about the peripheal edges.

Perhaps you should first investigate you state home inspector association. http://www.illinoishia.org/index.html I get a lot more out of my state association than I do the national associations.

"It's a wonderful day when you wake up in the morning." Though I really like one I saw here recently. "Their family tree must be a wreath!" -

Hey, they sell it at the big box. It must be OK to use it to match things up! -

Sometimes ya just gotta wonder what they're thinking when they do this type of stuff. Click to Enlarge 49.98 KB -

Anybody ever see an outside heat pump unit with an insulated cover over the compressor. Nine year old American Standard unit. Click to Enlarge 82.42 KB Click to Enlarge 43.08 KB Click to Enlarge 38.86 KB -

Dang, I told 'em not to serve the beer or pizza until the work was done.

I tell em once, someplace in the beginning of the report something like: Any recommendations I make to "repair" or "replace" or "fix" means you should consult with a professional in the appropriate field to determine all needed repairs and best repair method, to estimate costs and to perform any repairs deemed necessary. After that, it's "fix it". Boilerplate is often taken to mean crap text written by the software company. I've ditched most of that and written my own "crap text" that I use over and over again with slight customization for each inspection.

2-21-12-12-19-8-9-20 -

Brown "T-Shirts" from IBS. New one on me. -

They've added another segment to it and plan another one tomorrow.

Nah, I'd probably end up stunning myself with it. I'll pass. Remember this from sometime ago? =============================== Pocket Taser Stun Gun, a great gift for the wife. A guy who purchased his lovely wife a pocket Taser for their anniversary submitted this: Last weekend I saw something at Larry's Pistol & Pawn Shop that sparked my interest. The occasion was our 15 th anniversary and I was looking for a little something extra for my wife Julie. What I came across was a 100,000-volt, pocket/purse-sized taser. The effects of the taser were supposed to be short lived, with no long-term adverse affect on your assailant, allowing her adequate time to retreat to safety....?? WAY TOO COOL! Long story short, I bought the device and brought it home. I loaded two AAA batteries in the darn thing and pushed the button. Nothing! I was disappointed. I learned, however, that if I pushed the button AND pressed it against a metal surface at the same time; I'd get the blue arc of electricity darting back and forth between the prongs. AWESOME!!! Unfortunately, I have yet to explain to Julie what that burn spot is on the face of her microwave. Okay, so I was home alone with this new toy, thinking to myself that it couldn't be all that bad with only two triple-A batteries, right? There I sat in my recliner, my cat Gracie looking on intently (trusting little soul) while I was reading the directions and thinking that I really needed to try this thing out on a flesh & blood moving target. I must admit I thought about zapping Gracie (for a fraction of a second) and thought better of it. She is such a sweet cat. But, if I was going to give this thing to my wife to protect herself against a mugger, I did want some assurance that it would work as advertised. Am I wrong? So, there I sat in a pair of shorts and a tank top with my reading glasses perched delicately on the bridge of my nose, directions in one hand, and taser in another. The directions said that a one-second burst would shock and disorient your assailant; a two-second burst was supposed to cause muscle spasms and a major loss of bodily control; a three-second burst would purportedly make your assailant flop on the ground like a fish out of water. Any burst longer than three seconds would be wasting the batteries. All the while I'm looking at this little device measuring about 5'' long, less than 3/4 inch in circumference; pretty cute really and (loaded with two itsy, bitsy triple-A batteries) thinking to myself, 'no possible way!' What happened next is almost beyond description, but I'll do my best...? I'm sitting there alone, Gracie looking on with her head cocked to one side as if to say, 'don't do it dip shit,' reasoning that a one second burst from such a tiny little ole thing couldn't hurt all that bad. I decided to give myself a one second burst just for heck of it. I touched the prongs to my naked thigh, pushed the button, and . . . HOLY MOTHER OF GOD . . WEAPONS OF MASS DESTRUCTION . . . WHAT THE HELL!!! I'm pretty sure Jesse Ventura ran in through the side door, picked me up in the recliner, then body slammed us both on the carpet, over and over and over again. I vaguely recall waking up on my side in the fetal position,with tears in my eyes, body soaking wet, both nipples on fire, testicles nowhere to be found, with my left arm tucked under my body in the oddest position, and tingling in my legs? The cat was making meowing sounds I had never heard before, clinging to a picture frame hanging above the fireplace, obviously in an attempt to avoid getting slammed by my body flopping all over the living room. Note: If you ever feel compelled to 'mug' yourself with a taser, one note of caution: there is no such thi ng as a one second burst when you zap yourself! You will not let go of that thing until it is dislodged from your hand by a violent thrashing about on the floor. A three second burst would be considered conservative? SON-OF-A-BITCH, THAT HURT LIKE HELL!!! A minute or so later (I can't be sure, as time was a relative thing at that point), I collected my wits (what little I had left), sat up and surveyed the landscape. My bent reading glasses were on the mantel of the fireplace. The recliner was upside down and about 8 feet or so from where it originally was My triceps, right thigh and both nipples were still twitching. My face felt like it had been shot up with Novocain, and my bottom lip weighed 88 lbs I had no control over the drooling. Apparently I shit myself, but was too numb to know for sure and my sense of smell was gone. I saw a faint smoke cloud above my head which I believe came from my hair. I'm still looking for my nuts and I'm offering a significant reward for their safe return!! P. S. My wife loved the gift, and now regularly threatens me with it! 'If you think Education is difficult, try being stupid.' ================================================== -

John, Just turn on that fancy ass flashlight and light up the darkness. That'll keep it away from you!