Bob was born within the smell of the Westoe Netty, a public urinal under a railway bridge, and says it was the source of his inspiration, as well as one of his first subjects. The men coming out of the pubs filled the netty and formed a waiting queue outside. Graffiti covered every inch of the cement-rendered walls, and the ancient flush never succeeded in clearing the trough of fag ends and tram tickets. His painting of the Westoe Netty, which is now closed, is a wonderful kaleidoscope of colour, graffiti, and social comment, but too rich for these small pages; so here [only in the book, sorry!], entitled The Day Dreamer, is an early inspiration.
The darkness was absolute. There was a gagging stench of faeces. Andy got down on his hands and knees and felt his way around. He soon discovered, in the middle of the tiny space, two porcelain footpads either side of a hole about eight inches in diameter. No wonder his new bedroom stank.