DIY disasters
I just can't do power tools. They always fly out of control and end up embedded somewhere they shouldn't. I've no idea how I've still got all the appendages I was born with.
Add to that the fact that nothing ends up square, able to support weight or free of sticking-out sharp bits and you can see why I try to avoid DIY.
Tell us of your own DIY disasters.
( , Thu 3 Apr 2008, 17:19)
I just can't do power tools. They always fly out of control and end up embedded somewhere they shouldn't. I've no idea how I've still got all the appendages I was born with.
Add to that the fact that nothing ends up square, able to support weight or free of sticking-out sharp bits and you can see why I try to avoid DIY.
Tell us of your own DIY disasters.
( , Thu 3 Apr 2008, 17:19)
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Carry on DIY'ing
Apprantly my Great Grandad was not a very good DIY'er (a trait that I have carried on).
The day after splitting open his thumb after hitting it with a hammer, he is sent up into the loft to find something by my Great Gran.
This is the time before lofts had electric lights fitted and probably before torches were so common, so armed with a candle he clambers up and starts hunting around.
Distracted by a box containing feck knows what, he becomes careless with the candle, setting fire to the bandage on his thumb.
Instinct takes over and he does what comes naturally, basically dropping the candle and using his good hand to put out the flames on his bandage, managing to burn that in the process.
Hands now blistered and bruised, he discovers that the candle has set the loft insulation on fire, so again does the first thing that comes into his head - stamping on the fire to put it out.
Which he did, except by stamping on the fire in the loft that wasnt on a beam, his foot went straight through the ceiling of the bedroom, got stuck and he had to be helped out.
In the words of my Great Gran "Bloody idiot".
( , Fri 4 Apr 2008, 23:09, 1 reply)
Apprantly my Great Grandad was not a very good DIY'er (a trait that I have carried on).
The day after splitting open his thumb after hitting it with a hammer, he is sent up into the loft to find something by my Great Gran.
This is the time before lofts had electric lights fitted and probably before torches were so common, so armed with a candle he clambers up and starts hunting around.
Distracted by a box containing feck knows what, he becomes careless with the candle, setting fire to the bandage on his thumb.
Instinct takes over and he does what comes naturally, basically dropping the candle and using his good hand to put out the flames on his bandage, managing to burn that in the process.
Hands now blistered and bruised, he discovers that the candle has set the loft insulation on fire, so again does the first thing that comes into his head - stamping on the fire to put it out.
Which he did, except by stamping on the fire in the loft that wasnt on a beam, his foot went straight through the ceiling of the bedroom, got stuck and he had to be helped out.
In the words of my Great Gran "Bloody idiot".
( , Fri 4 Apr 2008, 23:09, 1 reply)
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