I'm the sorta guy that sticks to promises. If I tell you I'm gonna give you a Part Two, you're gonna get a Part Two. And so, ladies and gentlemen, welcome back... to Scrotal Annihilation!
I was very disappointed with the last visit to this drain (read Part One here). The not-so-pleasurable experience restricted the amount of photos I took. This time, however, I was back with a vengeance.
The walls of this place were putrid. That white specky shit you see on the left hand side ended up all over the bottom of my tripod legs as it sat in the water. Turns out it goes transparent when you leave it in a hot car the next morning, too! Mmm... buttery. The place had that same odour as last time but with no milky drain juice. Just warm, oily water. Every step you made here whirled up chunks of yellow-grey matter that had the same consistency as lard.
I've come across hundreds of unique and strange features in drains. Here is one of them. I can't tell you what it is or what it does. But it made for an interesting subject.
This corridor is a favourite haunt of mine. You know, just chillin' in drains and such. I like to wedge myself halfway up between the two opposing walls and put my head in the gutter - watching drunk people carry on like baboons after leaving nearby pubs and clubs. I once had a conversation with one such guy... "Hey! Hey! Yeah you there!"
[And then, after a long pause trying to identify the location of the voice]
"WHOA... how did you get down
there?!
"How did
you get up
there man?!"
"Oh wha... do you guys
live down there or something?"
"Yeah man, well... you know... our wives let us go up there every now and then."
Et cetera... et cetera.
Stormwater drain of scrotum annihilating, I believe you have finally been conquered. Aaaand I don't think I'll be seeing you again anytime soon, thank you very much.
