Two Weeks in the Life of a Working Class Ronin: a visual tour

It begins here; the slow light of dawn, creeping in through the cold, prying sleep out of your eyes and bringing the need for coffee.

Our mailing division, in temporary quarters while we moved, again.  Miss Cindy, in motion.

Consulting with the Skipper...

This kind of fine craftsmanship with caulk (to cover up the fact that you don't know how to build either a sill or a louver) later inspired the Skipper to the delusion that he was a carpenter and woodworker.

That delusion led him to strap a piece of bookshelf bracketing to either side of the truss, connect it with a turnbuckle, and pronounce that a "center brace".

Proof that Iowans did in fact interbreed with tumbleweeds,
and that a month of painstaking effort by two craftsmen to create a thing of lasting beauty can be undone in a matter of minutes by a clueless hack with a screw gun, a pair of sheet metal cutters, and an IQ of 84.

An example of the Skipper's fine sawyer work.  Note the ripped end grain of the beam above, the one that has no pegs in it. Real professional grade work, there.

Because our clueless leader could not find one of the most common bases on the market, Mike Fisher enjoys placing four pads with 16 screws on each beam.
Way to speed production, Skippy.
Brilliant. 

"Right... ahhh... since you are the carpenters, why shouldn't you clean up the roofer's mess and move the masonry supplies out of the mud to get the crane into place?"

"Whaddaya mean they had two weeks to clean the area... you're here, aren't ya?"

"Look, I brought you almost five dollars worth of crap from McD's as a bribe... like you would a dog you were training."

What do you mean you won't do it cheerfully for a bone tossed your way?  Geesh... workers nowadays aren't thankful enough for their jobs!"

Did someone say "bone"?

Despite the worst efforts of far too many stupid people, the finished product, in place, courtesy of the Punishers.