Okay, so the sheet metal patch I drilled over the woodpecker holes yesterday seemed to be somewhat successful. I say "somewhat" because, yes, it did prevent the little fucker from pecking in that spot, BUTT, the asshole just moved over about 10 feet and started pecking anew in a fresh locale. Of course, he didn't start pecking until 9:00 this morning, so at least I forced his dingleberry-sized brain to mull the whole thing over for a couple of hours... yeah, who's laughing now, ya peckerhead?!
So, it was on to plan "R" today -- pie tins. It's now official -- we've become the scourge of the neighborhood. Bought a shitload of aluminum pie tins today, strung them together and nailed the fuckers onto the side of the house. I'm just nailing shit to the house now -- don't care what it is... if a nail will go through it, it's goin' up there. And these things are loud as ass!
I'm sitting here in the basement, 10:17 p.m., and it basically sounds like an insane bear is trapped outside in a giant, hermetically-sealed aluminum closet, and it's trying to punch its way out. I'm convinced that when I walk out the front door tomorrow to get the paper, the entire neighborhood is going to be standing in my driveway with pitchforks and flaming torches. I might as well just finish the scene and go find a tire-less 72 Cutlass and put it up on cinder-blocks on the front lawn.
We are so now "that family."