Ask the PeeMan- Rodent Control

It’s Wednesday again and time for our weekly “Ask The PeeMan” segment. Rodents seem to be coming up a lot this time of year. The PeeMan has the answer.

Q.  Good afternoon!
I have a question regarding the Coyote PeeShots . I’m looking at them for a basement style room with a large sliding door that opens onto a driveway. It’s a fairly busy beach area, and we have rats! Our organization works with children, so this is a no go! The description says that they are “long-lasting,” and I’m wondering how long that typically is. Please let me know what the average length of use is.

Thank you!
Best,
Caroline

A.  Caroline,
At least a month. 2 months or more if there isn’t much air circulation in the placement area – like under a sink.
Here is the direct link:
http://www.predatorpeestore.com/Predator-PeeShots.html

KJ The PeeMan

Q.  I came across your site through a company called “Solutions”. I have had an issue with having mice enter my house over the past 2-4 years. I am not sure of their entry point BUT I really would like to deter them from entering at all !!!

My house is small, 984 sq. feet….. full basement below, attached garage with door leading to back patio. I am wondering how much of the bobcat or coyote urine I would need to protect my home throughout the winter season. Also, where should I place the deterrents? I do have dogs in the home, so I am also wondering what their response will be to this product.

Thank you
Kristine

A.  Kristine,
Thank you for contacting the PeeMan. If you have mice already in your home, use our Bobcat PeeShots  for indoor use.
Mice usually enter near openings like where wires and pipes come in, or under garage doors etc. Use the Bobcat Trigger spray bottle and squirt around any areas like that. Dogs will just be curious nothing more. See all the bobcat products for mice at this link:
http://www.predatorpeestore.com/mice-problems-bobcat-urine.html
KJ The PeeMan

groupshot300.jpg

Until I find more words . . .The PeeMan

PeeMan Discovers New Business Language Disorder

I must not have been paying attention. Somewhere along in my business career, I seem to have suffered some sort of loss of ability to understand the language of business. My Business Language Deficit Disorder or, BLDD for short, manifests itself when I interact with business people who use words that don’t seem to fit into the sentences they are a part of.

It started with small things, like when I would say “thank you” to a store clerk for their assistance. Instead of the customary “You’re welcome” response; the answer today is “no problem.” What in the world was there no problem with? Was the problem that I asked for assistance? Or was I thanking them because it wasn’t a problem for them to do what they were being paid for? Or was I thanking them because I wasn’t as much of a problem as I could have been? Next time, maybe I should be more of a problem so that their answer will be more logical.

inigo-montoyaBut it gets worse. The other day, when I contacted a company to get some information on their product, a nice sales associate thanked me for “reaching out to her”. Well, somewhat flustered, I said “you are welcome” because that is what I learned to say when someone thanks me. But, “reaching out” to this woman is something I did not recall or even comprehend. The last thing I remember reaching out for was the ladder that slipped away from me when I was painting the house last summer – and I missed. And not to mention that the idea that I go around reaching out to random women might not sit well with the wife of the PeeMan. Maybe, I should have just said “no problem.”

Then, after I told the nice sales associate what information I was looking for, she told me that once she had gathered the info she would “circle back”.  This time I did say “no problem.” But that was a lie. Now, I knew I had a full-blown case of BLDD. My mind was receiving the signals but was unable to convert them into words I could understand.  I can remember the Lone Ranger and Tonto “circling back” to find the trail again or to get behind the bad guys, but what was this nice lady planning to do. I felt like I needed to be looking over my shoulder even though I knew she and her company were 2000 miles away. No problem, I guess I’ll know what it means when it happens.

So, I had lunch with a businessman friend the other day and he was telling me he needed to hire a new marketing person, but was having trouble finding someone with enough “bandwidth” to handle the job. It sounded like it had something to do with being fat, maybe like a “fat cat marketing guy”. That sort of made sense, but I realized through the fog of my BLDD that it probably wasn’t what my friend had in mind. I had heard the word before, but it always had something to do with computer or internet stuff. So maybe he’s looking for a fat marketing guy who is good with computers. I told him I’d keep my eyes open, no problem.

And just today, I have been chasing a quote from a supplier and this is what the company representative told me word for word:

“I am still waiting to hear from our production team. I will revert as soon as we have an update.”

Uh oh. Now what have I gotten into. All I wanted was a quote. I wonder what she is going to revert into? No problem.

Until I find more words(that I can understand). . .The PeeMan

 

Ask The PeeMan – Oh Rats!!!

It’s Wednesday again and that means it’s time to Ask The PeeMan! Here are couple of “ratty” questions I have gotten in my PeeMail lately. Enjoy!

Q.  Hi,
My house backs onto a blueberry farm hence I am forever having battles with rats and mice that somehow get into our home.  I see that coyote urine is recommended for rats and bobcat urine is recommended for mice.  Do you recommend using both urines simultaneously (side by side) for both indoor and outdoor use?   Or should I just go with one type and if so, which one?

Thank you.

Philip

A.  Philip,
Rather than having you buy 2 types of urine, start with the CoyotePee and see how it does for both. Here is the link:
http://www.predatorpeestore.com/repel-rats-rat-problems-coyote-urine.html

Q. I have a large macadamia nut tree which the rats love.  They pick the fruit or knock it off.  The tree overhangs my roof.   I have tried traps with banana, peanut butter, tangerines, avocados but they continue to go back to the nuts.  I have even tried the nuts themselves in the traps…no progress.  If I get the coyote pee, should I put it on the roof, hang it in the trees, or apply it some other way?  Thanks for any information you can give me.  I plan to order from you but am unsure of how to do the applications.

A. Spray CoyotePee liberally on the trunk of the tree and ideally also create a “pee-rimeter” back about 20′ feet from the tree.  The goal would be to intercept them before they get overwhelmed by the lure of the food source. See these links for more info:
http://www.predatorpeestore.com/Application-Instructions.html
http://www.predatorpeestore.com/repel-rats-rat-problems-coyote-urine.html

Until I find more words. . .The PeeMan

 

Guest Blogger – Bones The Coyote

Last week we heard from P. Catcher about his first day on the job. Today, we get an entirely different perspective. Enjoy! It’s unreal and maybe not entirely G-rated.

First Day at the Farm by Bones The Coyote
My name is Bones…as in after I hunt, there’s nothing left but the bones. When I first arrived at the Farm, I had the same attitude as most new inmates. I didn’t like the idea of losing my freedom. I was four years old at the time and I enjoyed roaming the woods, wild and free. I liked working alone, or with a pack if they were good. Life was not always easy, but I got by. If it wasn’t for that chicken farmer, I’d still be there. I still don’t know how I fell for that trap. Too greedy, I guess. So, they sent me to the Farm…. for life. I didn’t like it one bit. Fences, guards….this was definitely not my style. The truck came through the gate and pulled up the processing building. White coats—I knew what that meant. Sure

bones

Bones

enough, shots and more shots and then a collar. Blaze orange, definitely not my color. I felt the antenna brush against my ear. The end of freedom. They led me through a door and I found myself outside in a small field surrounded by trees. Time to socialize. I started sniffing around. Wow! Women! I’d never picked up such a concentrated scent before. I never thought this place could be coed. But, now that I think of it, I’d never heard of anyone trying to escape. Maybe this wasn’t going to be all bad, after all. I saw a bunch of inmates heading down to couple of old stumps. I followed along behind at a safe distance. What happened next is pretty hard to describe. There was a human off in the distance and when he pulled a handle, the tops of those stumps sort of popped open and stuff started spewing out. I couldn’t tell for sure what was coming out, but those other inmates were eating it like there was no tomorrow. This was curious. Most other coyotes I knew preferred meals they had to chase, but this bunch were bellying up to a stump and having a real feast. I slid quietly into the group for a closer look. Well, what the heck, I was pretty hungry. So I tried a few nibbles. Salty, real salty, but good. “What is this stuff anyway?” I ventured to ask to no one in particular. “Pretzels and popcorn,” came the garbled response. “Never heard of it,” I thought to myself. But, it was tasty. Every bite I took seemed to compel me towards another one. You could get hooked on this stuff. I finally gave in and just gorged myself with abandon. The stuff kept coming and coming out of that stump like there was a never ending supply. Then it started. I had been real thirsty before, like the time when I finally got that old rooster out at the Benton place. Man, was he tough and dry. But, this was different, really different! Water! Water! I needed water fast. My tongue was like sandstone. My throat was like a rusty pipe. Then I noticed the inmates were on the move again and moving quite quickly. They ran to a nearby stream and began drinking loudly. I didn’t waste any time joining them. My first gulp told me something was very unusual. Wrong color, wrong flavor and fizzy and foamy too ….but not bad. The other inmates seemed to enjoy it and I was thirsty after all. So I drank, no the truth was I slurped and sloshed and guzzled. I could feel my thirst subsiding a bit, but I felt a little light-headed and unsteady as well. “Easy big fella,” said the cute one next to me as I swayed a little to my left. “Excuse me,” I said in a voice that didn’t seem like my own. “New at the Farm? What’s your name?” she asked. “First day, Bones is my name, ma’am, what’s yours?” I said. “I’m Kitty. What are you in for?,” she asked. “Chickens,” I said, “what about you?” “Sheep. Well, lambs actually. Those big ones can be nasty,” she said. “This place is pretty strange, don’t you think? Eating out of stumps and drinking yellow fizzy water. I’m not sure I like it,” I said trying not to slur my words. “You’ll get used to it. It’s a real friendly place and it’s got everything you need. Just be careful and watch out for the Urine Collector. I hear there is a trainee on today,” she said quietly. “Urine Collector? What do you mean?” I asked nervously. “Yeah, the Urine Collector. It’s how you earn your keep. Did you think they were going to let you live like this for nothing? Look, here at the Farm, you get all sex you want, all the food you can eat and all the beer you can drink. All they want back is your pee,” she explained. “MY PEE!” I screamed. “Yeah, your pee. It’s not so bad. Most of the time you hardly know the Collectors are around. They usually sneak up behind you while your busy at the beer stream and they’re gone before you know it. They sell it to people who want to make other animals think they have coyotes around. Can you believe it? Don’t look now, but I think there is a Collector coming now,” she said as she glanced over her right shoulder. Sure enough there was a human in a big padded suit wriggling along the ground behind the coyotes to my right. He had a long handled pan in its hand and was sliding it under the rear end of one of the inmates down the line. I kept an eye on him for a while, but man I was thirsty. I stuck my snout back in that stream and lapped and lapped. I liked this stuff more and more. Beer, is that what she called it? I didn’t care what it was called and the more I drank, the less I cared about the Urine Collector anymore. That was a mistake. Man, I really had to pee. I stepped a little to one side and tried to lift my leg in my normal style. But, my coordination was a little off and I slipped a bit. Then I felt it. The pain only a man understands. Something whacked me good and my knees folded. As the pain was transforming itself into rage, I looked around to find out who was responsible for this cowardly attack on my most private possessions. I came eyeball to eyeball with the Urine Collector. He had whacked me with that cold steel pan. He was going to die. He knew it too. He tried to scramble to his feet, tripped and fell headlong into the beer stream. Now was my chance, I assumed full attack position ……or I thought I did. My mind was in full attack mode, but my legs and paws had something entirely different in mind. I had never run sideways before, but it was happening now. I bowled over a couple of other inmates in the process. “Hey, watch it, turkey!” they growled. I shouldn’t have said it, especially on my first day. But, for some reason I wasn’t thinking clearly. I can’t remember exactly what I said, but it had something to do with their mother and a German shepherd. However, there was no doubt that they heard it and understood the implied meaning of my words. What a mess! As I staggered to resume pursuit of the Urine Collector, I now had two really aggravated inmates in pursuit of me! Fortunately, their attack mode wasn’t working much better than mine. I almost got a piece of that Collector just before he slammed that door in my face and I crumbled into a heap on top of my fellow inmates. They seemed a little more dazed than I was and I managed to extricate myself from the pile and make my way to the other side of the field. As I tried to get oriented, I noticed Kitty over by the edge of the woods. I could tell from the look in her eye she had something on her mind. Boy, was my mind fuzzy. What did she say before about life at the Farm. All the food, beer and…….what else did she say? If only I could remember…

 

Until I find more words. . .The PeeMan

Ask the PeeMan – wild horses

Greetings from the snowy north woods!

I have made an executive blogging decision. “Ask the PeeMan” Wednesdays are going to be a new regular feature on the blog. I get so many interesting questions in my PeeMail every day and I answer them all personally. So, why not share them with you?

So, to kick things off, I bring you a question from “down under” . . .

Hi.
I saw your website online.
First off all I have a question about the best solution for wild horse pests? Is it Bear urine?
Or would you suggest something else.
Also if you apply urine to the perimeter of a property. How long is it effective for? How often would you need to reapply it? Is it only effective while the urine is still wet? Or is it still effective when the urine dries out, meaning does the scent remain for doe time.
How does it work? Does it scare the horses off cause they think there is a bear near by?
What if horses haven’t smelt a bears urine before? Will it still be effective.
The reason I ask is I’m in Australia and there’s no bears here. So would the product still be effective as its a smell that wild horses here wouldn’t have experienced before.
Can you post to Australia?

Adam from Australia

Alpine_Way_brumbiesAdam,
Thanks for your questions. As you know, most of the wild pesty critters that Australia deals with today originally came from Europe or North America along with their human companions. Your “brumbies” are no different and that is exactly why BearPee will still scare them. PredatorPee seems to work by triggering fear instincts that are buried deep in the genetic code. Your wild horses are still ours at heart! – and they are still afraid of bears.
Since a horse’s sense of smell is far greater than ours, the pee scent is effective long after it has dried. See this link for application and info on our ScentTags and 33Day dispensers:
http://www.predatorpeestore.com/Application-Instructions.html
http://www.predatorpeestore.com/bear-urine.html

And yes, we do ship to Australia via Priority Mail – it usually takes about 1 week to 10 days.
KJ The PeeMan

Until I find more words(and questions). . .The PeeMan

 

Thoughts on the Coyote Problem

Greetings! Winter returned in a big way up here with a foot of freshly fallen snow and arctic air right on its heels. Good day for bloggin’

Over 30 years ago, when we first pioneered the use of Predator Urine to control animal pests; the big animal problem in the U.S was deer.  The spread of suburbia into the rural areas of the country coupled with more restrictive hunting laws caused the deer herds to expand and discover new gourmet menu choices amidst the suburban lawns and gardens. Deer no longer had to struggle to find food when a veritable smorgasbord of delights awaited them within and easy amble. Cedar hedges, ornamental shrubs, garden vegetables, and the low-hanging fruit of those pretty little dwarf apple trees.

And, alas, the homeowners were not amused and the use of Predator Urine  as a deterrent was born. COYOTEPROBSBut, the homeowners were not the only ones who noticed the expansion of the deer herd. Coyotes took notice. Over the last 30 years we have been able to watch the way nature always works to stay in balance. I see this as evidence of God’s perfect design, others see it differently. But no matter how you see it, you must admit it is a wonder to observe.

Where there were once few people and the deer struggled to survive became places where people live and work and deer exceed the capacity of the landscape.  Now, enter the coyote. The coyote has made its presence known in a big way throughout the urban and suburban landscape of the U.S.

Now, 30 years later, the biggest pest facing homeowners in America is the coyote and once again the PeeMan has the answer. PredatorPee® WolfPee is now the biggest selling PredatorPee® product in the American market.  But don’t take my word for it, just check out what’s come to my PeeMail inbox:

“…After we bought your WolfPee last year, we did not have any problems with coyotes whatsoever and we thank you for that. New year and we have three cats we must protect. I thank you and will place my large order soon…”

Margery F. Walpole, MA

“I believe this is my third purchase from you, and it seems to be deterring the coyotes, so I’m going to continue hanging it on my fence to keep them at bay, from my doggies.”

Susanne – Denver, CO

“Predator Pee has worked and I have become your loyal customer. Your service is prompt and accurate!”

Kathy – Livingston, NJ

“I have been ordering the wolf pee from you for a couple years now…There is no one else who does what you do!”

Laurie – Corrales, NM

“It really works…we haven’t seen a coyote in the neighborhood for years now.”

Nancy – Woodinville, WA

But it is not only our customers that have discovered that WolfPee works for Coyotes. In largest study of urban coyotes ever conducted, researchers working with Stan Gehrt, an assistant professor at Ohio State University found that wolf urine  worked successfully to kept coyotes out of a yard. Wolves were at one time natural enemies of the coyotes.

And even celebrities like Kristen Ritter are talking about it. Here is what she had to say on Conan.

This just makes me ponder: “What will be next?”

Until I find more words(or the next big pest). . .The PeeMan

 

 

 

 

Guest Blogger – P. Catcher

I have noticed some blogs have famous guest bloggers share their thoughts from time to time. So, I figured I would try to get one myself. I did and he is certainly one of a kind. Enjoy. . .

How I became a Urine Collector

By P. Catcher

When I applied for the job, I was looking for a ground floor opportunity and I found it. The ad I responded to read something like this: Looking for adventure? Work closely with wild animals in their natural environment. Great health, accident and death benefits. Athletic flexibility a plus. Uniforms provided. Ground floor opportunity with potential for fast movement. Call for interview. Now, I was curious. This sounded like just the job I was looking for. I called for the interview and made the appointment. The address was on a dead-end road about 10 miles out from town. The office was rustic in a pleasant sort of way. But, the first thing I noticed was the smell. It wasn’t strong or overpowering, but it was everywhere. The receptionist was pleasant and made the normal small-talk that receptionists make with applicants for “ground floor opportunities”. Soon I was ushered into a large conference room populated by stuffed mounts of snarling coyotes, wolves, bobcats and foxes. With eight pairs of sightless eyes boring into me from all sides, I was more than a little uncomfortable. The door opened and a huge bearded man entered. The room suddenly became much smaller. As I took his meaty hand, I wondered if this same hand played an active role in the fate of the critters adorning the walls of the room. Mr. Henderson explained that his company was in the waste recycling business and need help in processing the waste materials and readying them for their new markets. “Excuse me, Mr. Henderson, but I thought this job had something to do with wild animals in the great outdoors, not waste recycling. Am I at the right place?” I said. “Yes, Mr. Catcher, you are in the right place. Come with me and I think it will become clearer,” said Mr. Henderson with a slight grin on his face. He took me down outside towards a long, low building. I noticed by now that I had become quite used to the smell, but it was definitely getting stronger as we approached the building. We entered through a steel door into a clean room with white walls and bright light. Along the walls hung large heavy-looking overalls and on a shelf were stacks of long rubber gloves with thick leather cuffs. On a rack above were rows of headgear that looked like a cross between a welders hood and an NFL helmet. A row of rubber overshoes lined the base of the wall. “Let’s suit up,” said Henderson. I was a little wary now, but I picked out a suit that looked about my size and began to put it on. It was much lighter than it looked, but thick and well padded. The helmet was light also with a mesh face protector that provided excellent peripheral vision. The gloves allowed for surprising dexterity and the boots provided great traction. I watched Mr. Henderson finish suiting up. He now appeared superhuman in size and power. I supposed I couldn’t get into too much trouble with him around. Henderson purposefully walked to the far end of the room, released a deadbolt and opened the door. He motioned for me to be quiet and follow. The door opened outside into a lightly wooded area. I could see high fences enclosed the perimeter. Large water tanks stood next to the building with spigots that emptied into a low trough camouflaged to look like a stream. I looked around. Even though I couldn’t be sure, I had the distinct impression that we were not alone. “Look over there behind that pine tree,” whispered Mr. Henderson. My eyes scanned over towards the pine tree. I saw nothing at first, but gradually my eyes separated a distinctive shape from the background. It was a coyote. I recognized it from those public TV National Geographic specials. “Watch this,” said Mr. Henderson. He went over to two tree stumps. Big twin maples that had long ago been cut down. Each stump was about 2 feet in diameter. He reached down, grabbed some sort of handle and pulled. Instantly the tops of the stumps popped up like lids on a hinged trash cans. I glanced back and saw the coyote start to move. I looked into the stump and could not believe my eyes. bottle“Beer nuts and popcorn, they love ’em,” said Henderson. Henderson backed slowly away from the stumps and as he did I saw the woods come alive with movement. First the coyote by the pine tree began warily circling towards the stumps. The stumps were rigged up somehow to pump the beer nut and popcorn up and out like mini volcanoes. Soon the coyotes were coming from everywhere. Henderson moved slowly over to the tanks and opened the spigot and flow bubbled into the fake stream bed. But, it wasn’t water. It was gold and frothy and soon a familiar scent reached me. “That’s right Catcher, it’s beer. This is Pabst Blue Ribbon and a little past its freshness date. They like it all right, but you ought to seem ’em when they get into some Red Dog,” offered Henderson. I was almost stupefied by the drama unfolding in front of me, but my time as a mere spectator was to be short-lived. “Grab that flat-pan,” instructed Henderson as he pointed to a long-handled pan hanging from the wall. The flat-pan looked like an extended pizza paddle with a bed-pan shaped container instead of a flat blade. The handle was a good four feet long, hollow like a tube and connected to a coiled clear hose. As I got a grip on the pan, I watched the coyotes gorge themselves on the beer nuts and popcorn. Soon a few started backing away from the feed and start sniffing around. They started moving towards the stream of beer. “That stuff makes ’em wicked thirsty, they’ll be hitting the brew in a minute,” said Henderson as his eyes followed the pack, “get ready with that pan. You see, Catcher, we recycle wild animal urine. People use it for all kinds of reasons and they pay a lot for it. Your job is to collect it.” “Urine Collector,” I thought, “so that’s what the ad meant when it said ‘work closely with wild animals in their natural environment.'” I watched as the coyotes approached the stream. Henderson was right, they sure were thirsty. “They won’t stop drinking ’till I turn off the spigot. Kinda like the boys down at the Silver Spur. Now this is what you do. Take the pan and get down on your belly and sneak up behind them. As long as the beer tap is open, they won’t bother you. Get about 5 feet behind them, and slide the pan under the business end one of ’em. They’ll start peein’ soon, so be ready. They usually don’t all go at once, so should be able to handle quite a few by yourself . The hose on the handle is connected to a pump, so it’ll take all you can get. By the time we get a full crew hired, we ought to be able to get the whole herd at the same time. Now, collecting from the females is pretty simple, but with the males, it gets kinda tricky. They shoot off to one side or another and it gets worse after they’ve been in the beer for awhile. But, with practice you’ll rarely lose a drop,” instructed Henderson. I looked at the line-up of coyote tails and then looked for the door which Henderson had now fully blocked. I could tell my ground floor opportunity was about to begin. Down I went, pan in hand, and began slithering towards the coyotes. Coyotes look different from that angle. As I got closer, I extended the pan. “Close, get closer,” urged Henderson. I finally got the pan into position just as the flow began. The first was a female and it was a good shot. The male next to her took a little extra wrist action, but again I was successful. I could feel the urine coursing through the handle and into the hose and back to a holding tank concealed somewhere inside the building. In about 5 minutes, I must have collected a gallon or more. Judging from his exuberant body language, Mr. Henderson seemed to be quite pleased. One after another, I positioned my pan in the right spot and then began the subtle moves necessary to catch every last drop. It was more of a dance than anything and I was really getting into it, but then it happened. I should have been more careful, but I was just a beginner. I had my pan in position under a particularly large male, but just as he lifted his left leg he lost his balance on his right momentarily. A little too much Pabst, I suppose. I moved my pan quickly to compensate…..a little to quickly, I’m afraid. I whacked him good on a particularly sensitive part of the male anatomy. The sensation is something no female can comprehend, but as soon as it happened, I felt that coyote’s pain as much as if it was my own. There was no amount of beer that could distract that coyote from what had just occurred. I want to tell you that there is nothing quite like the feeling of being eye-ball to eye-ball with an 60# male coyote than has just had his bells rung. I now appreciated the copy in the rest of the original help wanted ad which read “Great health, accident and death benefits. Athletic flexibility a plus.” As I scrambled to my feet, the coyote took aim and lunged. He would have nailed me if I hadn’t tripped over the urine hose and toppled head long into the beer trough. I regained my footing and scrambled towards the door. Henderson was already on the other side peering out with the door cracked open. I could immediately tell what a warm, sensitive and caring boss he was as I heard him yell, “Shut off the beer, we’re wasting it!” I reached the door with 3 half-drunk coyotes in staggering pursuit. Fortunately, they couldn’t quite coordinate an effective attack and tripped all over each other in their failed attempt to kill me. I made it through the door just inches ahead of a coyote snout. Inside the door, I slumped to the floor. I couldn’t believe what I had just been through. I smelled like a barroom bathroom on Saturday night and looked like a deflated sumo wrestler. Henderson was beaming. “Not bad, son. The last couple of guys weren’t quite as agile as you are. The job is yours. You are a natural,” gushed Henderson. “You are a natural” No one had ever said that to me before. With renewed strength and pride, I pulled myself to my feet and shook Henderson’s outstretched hand.

Until I find more words. . .(my own or someone else’s). The PeeMan