Tymeg

Yeah, I'd rather not be around that stuff long enough to build up a tolerance. As for your friend leaving you gifts on your step, maybe you should build the little guy his own facility...

Oh, I have some fun coming up.  One of the houses has zero insulation in the attic and walls.  While the walls are going to stay that way, I'll be renting a blower and taking care of the attic.  Just getting into the attic is a chore, there is a scurry hole in one bedroom closet ceiling that is about 7' high.  The hole is about 15" x 30" and once through, you still have another three feet up to get to the attic (the house has 10' ceilings).

But I can tell you about that "little" guy.  Based on what he left behind that I had to clean up, I don't think he's so little...

I'm getting to that point where my time and effort vs cost to have someone else deal with it is swinging closer and closer to letting someone else deal with it.

And you can't go by poop size/amount to judge how big the creature is. Case in point...

Yup, you make a convincing argument, mine started getting to that point a few years ago.  There are still some things that I will take care of but that list is getting shorter and shorter.  And tbh, insulating the attic is, now that I think about it, one of those that I don't do anymore.  But at least the insulation that you blow in isn't fiberglass, it's just cellulose.  So itchy is not an issue, it's just freaking hot up there...

The heat being many magnitudes more than itchiness is what'll keep me away. I thought as you got older, tolerance to cold diminished, but 75 used to be tolerable, now I'm finding 72 to be too hot now.

And I wouldn't want to be on the business end of this guy when its stomach start rumbling...

Remember that one ski trip that was a battle of the thermostat?  Timmo had that thing cranked up to 85 and the rest of us would come by and set it back to 55...

I sure do. I also remember how ecstatic I was when his stubbornness got the best of him. We opened the sliding glass doors and because of all that heat, it melted the nearby snow into the tracks that ended up freezing so he couldn't close the door. I think in the morning the temp was either high 40's or low 50's. That was refreshing...

And I remember all of that but can't recall which trip that one happened on.  They are all running together in this memory unit...

That was Sunday River. Your fame to glory is blacking out in 15 minutes and then talking on the phone to your family as they wished you happy birthday Mr. Devil's Springs...

I know you keep telling me that I talked to my family, but I don't believe it.  We were in Maine, how did they get the phone number?  'Cause I am pretty sure I would not have called them...

First, you did call them and left a message. Your sister called back and talked to us first to make sure you were in a "coherent" state. We put you on the phone and you talked to her first, then your parents. This is such a benign story, why would we make this up? Nothing embarrassing or content to be used against you as blackmail. It was actually quite wholesome and yet some 26(?) years later you're still refusing to believe this happened...

ok, I believe you, it's just funny that the night that I make it all of 15 minutes I end up talking to my parents and my sister.  At least I didn't try to make rumballs that night...

Well, it was probably more than 15 minutes and you were in and out while sitting on on the couch. Regardless, you're still the reigning champ for quickest to get knocked out. It reminded me of a meme along the lines of: you telling your parents you were at a sleepover and you'd really be dying in a field somewhere from alcohol poisoning...

Imagine what the obituary would have sounded like....

Something tells me he didn't...