When I was living in an old riverside house on the mississippi during college and my roomies and I decided to check out the abandoned rail depot that was next door. The entire place was one big room and filled waist deep with random junk. Pink flamingos, old phono players, moose heads, stacks and stacks of old newspapers, 60's and 70's clothes, etc. There was a path through the middle of the stuff to the back where someone had put in a bed and kitchenette. There were lots and lots and lots of empty liqour bottles all over the counters. The weird thing was the walls were covered in post it notes. I mean litterally hundreds of them with random stuff like grocery lists, what to wear each day of the week, phone numbers, and some had weird letter/number codes on them we couldn't figure out. We figured it must be owned by our landlady, since she was an alcholholic kindergarden teacher who could remember anything.
'98 TJ has been under the knife the last 30 months getting a new frame, torque boxes and fenders.