Noobies VÜ

On this never ending quest of getting my house where it should be (IMHO) I  got one step closer to the non-end.
Gutters! This hovel house is over 20 years old and none of the previous owners put on gutters! What. The. Hell? It doesn't make much sense to me the amount of corner cutting. I can be a lazy bastard corner cutter on some things, but on structural and energy efficiency I do my best not to. Now gutters are neither structural or energy efficient but they help keep water off the house. In the first year I lived in the house we had a BBQ out front against the wall. We had some pretty intense rain and it hit that BBQ and soaked the wall behind it. That wall was to the pantry and I could actually see that the wall was wet from inside. Even with the BBQ gone if the rain came from the north that wall would get a bit wet. It didn't get soaked through by any means but it just wasn't something I liked.
I checked out getting the materials myself and thought it would be a pretty easy little project that I could not possibly screw up do with few problems. On a whim I decided to price out the job with a contractor. Surprise surprise! It turned out the contractor was able to do the whole job for $30 cheaper than I could just get the materials for. To make it even better I didn't have to go through the whole speaking in tongues/throwing the hammer/drill in frustration part of the mod. Me likes that.
The only problem I had was that the guy I contracted with, though easy to talk to, had issues with his email and wasn't the best at returning calls. Took almost a week to get things sorted out. His crew also had a language barrier. Maybe it's just me, but I think it is useful to be able to communicate with people who are working on your house. Other than that, I think it worked out and I like the look of the gutters. It's not like I expected them to transform the house by any means, but I am still pretty satisfied with how it all looks.
As a result of getting the gutters done I actually got off my ass painted my trim a much darker color and I love it! Next up: rain chains and urn thingys.
Pics below, of course click to embiggen

with the old trim color, ick.

new trim color, "Stealth Jet"

with the gutters bad pic will replace tomorrow

If you are a regular follower of this blog then you are familiar with the continuing saga of my "improvements" around my house.

One of the things that has bothered me is the lack of storage. It's a good sized house and the rooms are somewhat large, but not in the right areas.I have been wanting to do something with the sunroom for some time now and I knew with as shallow as the room is (couldn't even put a standard sized couch along the wall) I was going to have some problems arranging furniture. I thought about putting in mirrors and a barre and make it a ballet rehearsal room but when I went from a plie into a tendu I kicked the wall. sigh  I didn't want to simply put in a couch or loveseat and lose any chance of having some kind of storage. Plus the windows are quite high in that room and it's nice to have the light and it will give a phenomenal view of my carefully cultivated weeds. So it seemed to me that some built-in window seats would be the best solution. So someday (never) I had hoped on doing some work on the room. Well someday arrived.

Roomie announced she is going to throw a birthday shindig and I have been wanting to make my sunroom more of an entertainment space (I have put in a crap small bar I found and installed shelves on the wall behind it) so this weekend sounded like an opportune time to see if I could throw together a cheap ass inexpensive set of window seats.

I elected to make an L shaped window seat with the short section going along the plain wall and the longer going beneath the windows. I went to Home Depot with a simple plan in mind and priced out about $100 worth of wood and materials- not including the cushions. oh my god! Yikes.

My Jeep isn't the best for hauling lumber of any significant dimensions but it gets me tons of action, uh huh dream on so I was gonna wait and see if Roomie would be able to help me get some stuff to the house later. Her jeep is mucho larger with a nice fold down rear seat for illicit sex hauling things. As luck would have it I ran to ReStore and located some hideous old bifold doors and sliding closet doors. Around 24" x 79" and 30" x79".  I realized that this could make the front and tops for the boxes of the seats. All I would need otherwise is the rear frame. $24 later I had the basis for my seats.

My good friend Shane was able to help me get the doors back to my house (THANKS! I was not looking forward to packing those bitches on my back.) and I started mocking people up. The only downer was I over-estimated the strength of the doors when my fat ass sat on them pressure was put on them. Those types of doors are hollow core and the skin is very thin; they aren't exactly meant to hold a bunch of weight on the face (shut up), though when used other than designed they are very effective at mocking one's physical dimensions. Thus I learned quickly that they would likely dimple and ultimately dent over time, if not relatively quickly. I remembered that I had inherited some 1/4" oak sheets when I bought the house along with a ridiculous to heat and cool floor plan and an hvac and ducting system that makes hvac guys laugh out loud as well as an upstairs bathroom that dwarfs would have a hard time using and realized I could face the doors with them and vastly improve their weight capacity. I learned that the seats were going to be a bit taller than I expected, being a combined 26" in height (24" for the height of the door on edge + the depth of the door used for a lid) which make the seats quite tall, but I was okay with that as it allowed for tons of storage beneath and hours of entertainment when Constance tried to use them as well as a place to shackle cute guys that I abduct.

I ran to Home Depot and grabbed 6 8' 2x4s and sustained multiple splinters carefully put together the back supports. With Jason's assistance I crookedly mangled cut the oak, 2x4s, and the doors and then screwed everything up together.

I'm happy to say the oak seems to have done the trick and they easily held our weight without any kind of dimpling or caving. woo hoo.

I figured I could use another 2x4 and splinters and I wanted Connie to check out some foam for sale at Home Depot so we made another trip. Came back home with more wood and some foam for cushions.

The cost thus far for the seats, $24 for the doors, $21 for HD run #1 ($12 for wood + $7 for nails and $2 for brads I never even frickin used since I forgot I had a damn brad gun) and $44 for HD run #2 ($20 each for the foam + $2 for the 2x4) = $89. The most expensive portion so far being the foam. I still have to locate some fabric and make some covers. Then I'll want to get raped for some throw pillows.

But I think it's turned out looking like a spastic monkey with bladder control made them really well and I am digging all the storage for boys! Most of the shit stuff that was stored in the room cluttering it up is still in the room just nicely out of the way. :o)

If nothing else the spiders should be happy for a new home.

Pics below 9click to embiggen)

Yeah that bastard in the middle, yeah it gave me the splinters. Hate it with me.

The full Monty, need to cover the foam.

  Oh and you buttholes people that notice that the end is not covered I'm getting to it. Sheesh.

Well, I learned that neighbors can be neglectful bastards.

The old guy who lives across the street, I call him Ray since that's what he told me his name was, is well, old. He also seems to be a lazy damn ass unable to do some of the more physical things necessary to keep his damn yard clean of all the leaves that have fallen off his trees.

Well he needn't worry any more! All those fricken glorious leaves are now in my mostly treeless yard.

Great. Awesome. Thanks so much man.

The irony is, I thought about going next door and see if I could help him prior to the tornado small windstorm we had this past weekend. But I am also a lazy son of a bitch wasn't sure if he was even home since I couldn't be bothered to knock and see he's got multiple cars and you just never know which one he's driving currently.

Well har har on me. The wind blew every damn one of those leaves into my yard, I think he even moved his car off the street since it apparently blocked some of them from migrating. Those leaves also found their way to my yard by day's end.

So I am stuck with a bunch of leaves now. So, I went out and bought a leaf blower and it is my dream to blow them all back onto his damn yard. But since I am a sissy bitch I will probably just vacuum them up (That's right, it has a vacuum and mulch setting!) and bag them. It may be possible definitely that I just love toys and this gave me a reason to buy a new one to play with.

So I will take care of those pesky leaves without a complaint yeah right, this whole post is one big complaint to him and try to be a good neighbor.

Though, I did see him today with a leaf blower of his own and I have a sneaky suspicion that he is helping nature along and blowing the last leaves that finally fell into my yard to join the others. If this is so, I may just shove use my new blower and blow the leaves up his raggedy old ass back into his damn yard after all.

Click to embiggen

Note my lack of trees. Thanks ass Ray

It was a saddish Saturday this past weekend. I say saddish, because though I had been stressing out for a few days after I received the offer to purchase my drums (Honestly, I had put them on Craigslist assuming I wouldn't actually sell. I had simply assumed that by actually listing them I was making attempts at cleaning out the clutter of my house.) in the end it wasn't so bad. Beyond that stressing, once they were packed up and sent on their way, I felt only the slightest tug and sense of loss. It could be because I had dealt with it during the days prior, which I am wont to do. 

I didn't sell my drums because I no longer want to play, I sold them because I didn't really have a place to put them and I was self-conscious the few times I pounded on them. When I grew up in Beryl Jct our nearest neighbor was at least a 1/4 of a mile away, the only time I had to worry about disturbing or annoying people was when there was a meeting down at the firehouse at the end of our road. This happened very rarely and once I moved them into the basement, even rarer.

When I first started looking for a house the whole reason I wanted one with a basement was so I could have a room to set them up.

Now, I can remember growing up and listening to headbangers like Motley Crue and Whitesnake and Queensryche, etc. They all had these monster double-bass kits, so natch, I wanted one just like them. I had to have THE biggest kit I could afford. After high school graduation I placed my order. I can remember waiting for the kit to arrive as that every damn week I'd find out it was on back order. Man you think it's rough waiting for shit to be delivered now, imagine being a kid waiting on his dream kit. I was getting pissed! It was supposed to be in within 6 weeks of ordering. It wound up being closer to 6 months! Why didn't I just cancel the order? I contemplated it for about 10 seconds, my dad much longer than that, but I was driven; I wanted my dream kit! So I got my dream-kit but little did I know how much space that bad boy would actually take up, about 10' square. Tearing those suckers down and then putting them back up took at least 20 minutes both ways. There were days I thought I should just use part of it, maybe retire a bass drum and a couple toms, but I couldn't.

I played the hell out of that kit and I joined a few bands, though sadly, nothing ever took off. But they were still so awesome to have and pound on. I can recall some awesome parties in that basement and the jamming sessions we had. It was so cool. The only thing that could have been better would have been to have 10k people watching us. I played at the Washington County Fair a couple of times, but beyond that... nothing much.

After not having played them in at least 5 years, at least with any kind of regularity, and after my mother sold the house and I no longer had the place to store them, I was faced with trying to figure out what to do with them. Sadly, this was the best option.

I think what stressed me out was this was like a closing of a chapter of my life. I defined myself as a drummer for many years; I've literally played over half my life. And I loved it. Now I no longer have that. Well, hopefully if finances permit I can get a groovy electronic set and bang away to my heart's desire.  Until that time, I guess this is a eulogy of sorts. A eulogy of the teenage and early 20s me that still dreamed that anything was possible; that I could be up on stage in front of thousands, adored by other musicians and kids that responded to music, OUR music.

Reality is a frigid bitch.

So, it has been a while since I posted and it's been a pretty good couple of months. I am really excited as I finally replaced my motorcycle. I have been wanting to get a new one for some time now but I was somewhat reluctant to do so since I knew I'd wind up with a payment. Well, thanks to the new roomie (yeah, thanks a lot Jason) I made the leap.
Let's back up a smidge shall we?
Yes, I have a new roommate. I was reluctant to rent out the other room since Corey left but Jason was in need and I had the space so I decided what the hell. (As always you may click the images to embiggen)

Well within a week or so of him moving in he bought himself a brand new Harley-Davidson Fat Bob. NEAT bike!. But then the bastard had to go and let me take it for a spin around the block. Big mistake. No, I didn't crash. I fell in love.
THIS was the kind of bike I should have been riding this whole time. Much better ergos and sooo much more comfortable than my Z.


I had to do some thinking and decide what it was I like about Pandora and what I didn't. The list of likes was 2 items long: looks, acceleration.
The dislikes: ergos, squeeky noise, horrible seat (even after getting a $400 custom one), sketchy clutch (sometimes it engaged really hard- could have been operator error), vibrations, horrible seat, noisy, horrible seat. The list goes on. But it's mostly repeats of the horrible seat. I mean this thing was like a medieval torture device. I was constantly pushing myself back off the tank and trying to maintain an upright position. But within seconds of shoving myself back, I was having to shove back again. Try as I might I could not maintain my position on the bike. I have long legs and they were tucked under me when I rode, my arms would get tired from pushing myself back all the time and the general riding position. This was a "sport bike" not to be mistaken for a bullet bike. It had a similar look but the riding position was much more upright. It was kind of a hybrid of a bullet bike and a cruiser of sorts. But it's like they took the worst of both categories and mashed em together.
Don't get me wrong, for the most part I loved the bike. You know what, scratch that. I have pretty much disliked that bike from the get-go. I had hoped to use it to tour the area a bit. That was an epic fail. One ride to Zion and another to Beryl and I knew I would never ride it more than 50 miles.
So for years I have wanted to trade it for a cruiser. Chubs (Jason's Fat Bob) was the final straw. Riding that bike I knew I needed to try and get into something similar. Hopefully without the 5 figure price tag.
Success! I found a Yamaha Raider, took it for a ride and I was done.
Now when I found this bike it was at the Yamaha dealer here in town. I was looking for a Stryker originally.

After kicking around the dealer for 20-30 minutes, chatting with Jason and his boss, the sales kid finally made an appearance. At this point I had discovered the Raider and though I knew it was a more expensive bike I asked about it. Well, it turned out it was an '09 and I could get it for less than the '12 Stryker and it was 500cc's larger! I kept telling myself I didn't need a bike larger than 1400cc or so, but this bike was beautiful and totally fit into what I was wanting.


Nothing is worse (when talking about owning a bike) than buying a bike and then outgrowing it within the first year or so; wishing it had more power, would go faster on the highway, was a bit larger in size,etc. This bike had a lot of promise and I didn't think I'd have to worry too much about outgrowing it. There aren't a whole lot of bikes bigger. lol
I was ready to sign on the dotted line right then, but I wanted to go through my credit union. Silly I know, but that's what I do. I also knew I needed to get a decent trade on my bike. Everyone tries to low-ball when you trade, it's annoying. My bike was mostly mint, only a couple of surface scratches and far less than the allowed 18,000 miles for an '06 model. Try 6k.
Well, Jason and I went across the street to drop off some business cards for his boss and what do I find? ANOTHER Raider, this one had 1k miles on it (apparently it was a demo of sorts) and it was $4000 cheaper! This was kismet. I mean what are the chances?
So long story not quite as long, I bought the "used" bike. The kid at the other dealer wouldn't even acknowledge my existence when I came in to pick up my deposit from the other bike. Really? You're gonna be bitter because I made a financial decision? punk.
Here's the thing though. The guys at Polaris/Victory were awesome. Got me into a great bike at a great price and have been hella supportive. But Jason got cookies. I mean it, he got cookies. A fabulous tin of Mrs. Fields. He also got a free (well with the cost of the bike anyway) membership to the Harley club.


I didn't get cookies. I didn't get a membership to a club. Sure, I know I am being petty (I checked out the club and I'm no longer too butt-chapped over that- Yamaha's club is kind of lame) but where I got a bike, Jason got a community. How cool is that? Granted I bought a used one from a non-Yamaha dealer so what can I expect. I just think it's pretty damn cool that he has gotten all these nifty perks for buying his bike.
I'm thinking a Harley may just have to be in my future. I mean, I want some damn cookies!