Okay, so we were staying at the house my father-in-law and his girlfriend share in PA, right outside Philly. As I said before, it's all nicely outfitted with various antiques and such. Well, dear old dad decides that he doesn't like the way this clock is hanging on the wall.

I had noticed the clock earlier, it was fairly hard not to. It had a giant face on it, probably 12 inches or more, with a huge pendulum hanging from it. I mean, the pendulum alone was a good four feet long; about four inches across at the top, widening down to a bulb at the bottom that was nearly as big as the clock face. The clockface had a metal box on the backside, that I assume held the various gears, that was probably 5 or 6 inches on each side. It looked quite odd hanging on the wall, because there was no housing or design to the clock itself. It consisted simply of these three components and absolutely nothing else.

Apparently, the G/F and her teenage son had hung it on the wall, and Father-In-Law decided he thought it looked like crap. I don't generally agree with anything he says, but he was right. It was held onto the wall by two screws at the top corners of the box behind the clock face; anchored into the plaster or concrete or whatever the walls were. It hadn't been tightened down, so the clock hung at a down-facing angle, which meant the pendulum wouldn't swing right. So here's this disgusting clock barely hanging on the wall, and it doesn't even work.

So he asks me for help. I was cornered, I had no excuses (I was on vacation), so I was enlisted into service. He wants to take the screws out, rework the anchors, and screw it back in; so I agreed to hold the monstrosity while he was doing that. This was a mistake. I didn't realize it; but picture this thing, it's all fucking brass, and it's hanging about six feet high. I stand under it and try to maintain it's position while he starts removing the screws. The weight isn't that bad, maybe 45 or 50 pounds.

A couple minutes later, he's got the screws out, and I'm the only thing supporting the clock. I'm beginning to second guess my estimate, maybe this bastard weighs 60. As I'm standing next to it, holding it about shoulder height, I realize the ultimate stupidity of what we're doing. This clock looks stupid because it's a fucking grandfather clock without the giant wood cabinet. No wonder it's all hanging off balance, grandfather clocks don't hang, they're perched inside the cabinet so that the pendulum swings from a level platform.

"Hey, um. This thing looks like a grandfather clock without the box."
"Yeah, that's exactly what it is." Father in Law says this with a bit of pride, and I realize that I'm dealing with a dumbass. This clock will never work right in it's current state.
"So...maybe what you should do is build a housing for it, so that it doesn't hang, so much as it's supported by a shelf or...I don't know, a cabinet?" I try not to let the sarcasm come through, but the clock assembly is beginning to feel very heavy. I start to get mad. I'm sitting here trying to 'fix' something that is 1)not going to work because 2)what we're doing is not going to solve the problem and 3)this fucking thing is ugly anyways. Not to mention it's 4) fucking heavy, which makes this stupid solution not even worth the effort. It will not improve functionality or appearance, it will simply return the clock to its currently Ridiculous Clock status. The solution here is to put the goddamned grandfather clock into a fucking grandfather cabinet like it's supposed to motherfucking be. Why in the fuck would you remove such a heavy peice of shit from a functional design, only to hang it on your wall so that it looks like shit and works like shit and might as well be a big fucking 60lb peice of brass shit hanging on your living room wall? SHIT!

I tell him to unscrew the pendulum from the clock body itself, because it's really heavy. He does that and it's so heavy he almost drops it on the ground. We set the two peices down on the couch and I try to explain to him without slapping him around and calling him names that we probably need a more functional solution. I'm actually very good at this, as I routinely find myself diplomatically telling people at work that their ideas are stupid and wrong. He wants to stick to the Two Stupid Fucking Screws Idea, and I decide I don't give a shit about this Ridiculous Clock anyways. It's just not worth it.

I hope that damn thing falls off the wall and crushes him while he's home alone some day; and he bleeds out. What a fucking Ridiculous Clock.