On my first visit this season, I spied this tiny little plant precariously clinging onto the wall of the WSB. It reminded me of how precarious humanity is clinging to life on this planet. I was lost in a philosophical moment, pierced when I suddenly remembered I was stood in a toilet with a smartphone in my hand taking photos.
There’s no roof on the one closest to the Ponte End. Nowt better than pissing in there on a rainy day, makes you feel like Ray Mears.
If you could have bottled the ammonia behind the brewery stand at half time you could have dispersed rowdy crowds for the next 30 years
I'm puzzled what point the white paint at the top is serving. I suspect some of the bacteria down below could help us find a cure for cancer.
Aww look at that little plant there all on its own in the bogs, thats what they call the green shoots of recovery!.