|It would be brilliant to be bugged by the NSA, CIA, FBI, ASIO, or what have you. They would get to experience the most incomprehensible-to-third-party conversations ever. Witness:|
"I have a confession to make."So, if anyone works for any local secret services, I think you should know that we're highly suspicious. [23:22] [4 comments]
"What is it?"
"It was me all along."
"What, since I bought it?"
"So you've been watching me in the shape of a lamp since I was twelve?"
"And you still had the nerve to ask me what I looked like, and pretend not to know?"
"No. That wasn't me."
"Oh. Who was it, then?"
"It was my bee."
"So you stalk me, in the form of a lamp, from the time I'm twelve, and then get your bee to seduce me?"
"Aww. That's cute."
|Some time ago (nearly a month), I bought a Laserjet III printer from an ebay person. It had to be courier-shipped because the Australian postal service won't ship things as heavy as a Laserjet III. The courier, it turned out, also wouldn't ship things that heavy door-to-door, only dropped off at a depot and picked up at another depot. The shipping person did the drop-off; we got a bus to the depot near us, and a taxi back with the printer.|
Lo and behold, the printer didn't work; a "50 SERVICE" error. Looked up on the internet, this suggested one of two parts failing. The seller offered a six month warranty; obviously return-to-base wouldn't be a good idea, since the courier shipping and taxi-ing and so forth had cost nearly as much as the printer itself. The chap was good, shipped us the more likely of the two parts to be the point of failure, and it arrived a week ago.
So began a campaign of printer violence. The main case opening is easy, push-of-a-button. That gives access to the *other* of the two parts that might have broken. That part, it turns out, is in the way of the part that I had, so also had to be removed.
Part one: removing the fuser
It seemed like an easy thing; internet instructions were detailed and simple. Remove the four large screws, one from each corner, and pull the part out. I could even reach one of the screws with the screwdriver I had. Yes. One.
A trip to the supermarket later, I returned with a set of replaceable-head screwdrivers with a sensible handle length, and was able to reach two more of the screws. The fourth had an approach narrow enough that the replaceable-head screwdriver's stem was slightly too wide. A stabbing, smacking motion, however, resolved that difficulty and took out the last of the screws. The fuser was successfully removed.
Part two: getting the fucking case out of the way
Now, the power supply was under quite a lot of case. I have no idea how the case is supposed to open, but my way was to take out the one screw that holds it to the power supply, and horribly bend the fucker until it's not in the way, through the power of pure distilled violence.
Part three: removing the power supply
The power supply was also held in place by four screws. Three of these were easily removed. The fourth, however, was beneath an even narrower space than the fourth screw of the fuser, that the screwdriver couldn't be forced through. Cue a trip to the hardware shop. The hardware shop didn't have any screwdrivers that were both sufficiently long and a #1 Phillips head. I ended up with an insanely long #2 instead. I also got a sensible-length flat-head screwdriver that was magnetic, so that when I lost screws inside the printer I would be able to retrieve them, and tried unsuccessfully to get a pair of needle-nosed pliers so that I'd be able to get the screws in place for reassembly when the time came. Ah, foresight.
The #2 screwdriver was just capable of removing the offending screw, through the power of two people's combined violence, and behold, the power supply removeth.
Part four: putting new parts in
Because I am a smartey man, I didn't want to go through all this hassle again if the other part was the failure, so I just put the parts together, no screws, and turned the printer on. Success! A different error message, one about paper, which was alright since there wasn't any paper in.
Part five: screwing it all back together
Smash smash smash, violence, smash smash. Kaboom! Damn you, printer! Kick kick smash headbutt! And success, with only five spare screws, one of which came with the replacement power supply, one of which was the awkward bastard one that I thought probably best to leave out, one of which was accounted for in some other way, and the remaining two of which are probably vital components of some sort.
The printer now works. Bargain - at a cost of only $80, plus $50 shipping, plus $15 taxi-ing, plus $50 of screwdrivers, an hour and a half of walking back and forth to the hardware shop, and six hours of violence and anguish, we have a nice laser printer! Hooray! [05:17] [7 comments]
|Adelaide is fantastically cheap (as am I). Our local pizza place, on Tuesdays, Wednesdays and Thursdays, does 16-inch pizzas with any toppings for $11. There's a chinese place near the in-town bus stop we use that has meals for between $5 and $6; the serving size being the amount I eat, which seems to be about twice as much as anyone else will eat.|
That seems fairly spectacular already, but now, remember these are *Australian* dollars. That means $11, $5 and $6 translate to, in American, $7.25, $3.30 and $3.95 respectively. No tips or tax added either. And all the foods (that we've tried) being nice. [04:49] [0 comments]