My alcoholic brother would have. He was convinced that schnapps wasn’t really alcohol and would drink nearly a pint of it a day. He died at 72. God rest his soul.
At least the junk appears to be organized. The garages in my neighborhood look like the owners just threw everything in them. I don’t know how they find anything. Or maybe they don’t.
My parents got some kind of chocolate candy around Christmas one year. They wouldn’t share it with me, the baby of the family. They told me it was chocolate covered grasshoppers. They kept it on the top shelf of a kitchen cabinet that I couldn’t reach. Believe me I tried. Never did find out what it really was. :-)
he’ll take credit for any farting due to his people eating chili dogs.