But a walk near Priory Park showed me one of the oddest things I've seen before. Just look at this:
An abandoned car dealership and a small, desolate shack. Maybe it was an ofice once, but now it's someone's house. Someone who likes faeces, like REALLY likes faeces. Likes it so much they've written about it on the walls and made crosses out of toilet paper. The whole room is covered in perverted rambling. Who did this and what does it mean?