'It's doing the rounds so we may as well pay it a visit' - my reasoning behind our trip to 'Armley Medical Centre'.
@lpff had recently been and this was a certified derp of little value, but I always find something of interest and this shithole would be no exception.
This article promises an exciting future for the local eyesore and was published a year before our visit, which says it all.
The local council have fucked around so long that it's now a bonafide location for the local crackheads.
Perfect, another crack house for the archives, it was time to get inside and be ready to dodge another frenzied attacker intent on sticking us with fetid needles.
First, we had to find it and 'Armley Medical Centre' was proving harder to find than usual despite having a partial address.
After some fucking around we came upon it unexpectedly. What appeared to be a scruffy degenerate loitering with intent pointed us in the right direction, by simply existing in the area.
...‘'If in doubt, look for the nearest scruffy cunt with rolling eyes, a lolling tongue and most importantly, a needle sticking out his arm’...
A jump over this wall and we would be on the grounds and this one was supposed to be a ‘certainty’ with zero chance of failure if you can believe bullshit such as that spiel.
...‘Never assume you will get in and that will save you from endless disappointments’..
While navigating the derelict wasteland which means, ‘heading to the front door’ I looked upon a hideous sight. Evil razor wire in abundance, I hoped it would not come to a confrontation.
My fears were alleviated by this view. This was an explore for anyone, even geriatric grandmothers if there is such a thing.
...'welcome..., come in..., please watch your bonce as you liable to crack it open on numerous wayward pipes'...
Did this place really close in 2005? Just what the fuck have Leeds City Council been doing for the last 19 years?
Shimmying past the partially opened front door, we entered a familiar-looking plane of existence, one of destruction and vandalism.
The front desk I presume, but it's only a guess.
The copper piping would have been stolen years…, no decades ago if the sign attached to the front door is genuine.
Oh, the irony is delicious, don't you love these old signs from a past age?
It was a worktop once, I would wager placing your arse on there and a little weight would cause it to collapse without much trouble.
This level of ‘Armley Medical Centre’ appeared relatively stable underfoot, a testament to the building quality.
...'yeah right, you could have fooled me.'...
Whatever was private was most definitely as public as it comes.
Only partially comprehensible, but yes… Life does ‘Sux’ at times.
‘What is this shit we are walking on’, I questioned @anidiotexplores. Whatever it was, it was slimy, slippery and festering, as well as stinking.
The graffiti was of the signature type but was not particularly inspiring.
‘Watch your head on that pipe’ - I do occasionally clonk my head on such pieces of metal that stick out from various points.
The fact that this old office equipment has survived so long is quite incredible. Why has it not been smashed to smithereens?
‘Armley Medical Centre’ contained precious little evidence of its former past, this door being one of those exhibits.
Does it say ‘Audiology?’, part of the destroyed sign was difficult to read and bordering on illegible.
There are no Emergency Exits anymore and you can be sure that ex-exit is anything but alarmed.
The basement was less than pretty with the slippery pungent surface of the upper surface being replaced by a carpet of black bin bags.
What was inside you might ask? Well, don't..., as I have no intention of catching some awful disease. One thing I have noticed in the past is that black bags tend to contain dog shit, something to steer well clear of.
‘Tread carefully and if you hear a squelching sound then you’re walking home’, I warned @anidiotexplores.
Thankfully it didn't happen. There could have been amputated human body parts in those bags and we would have been none the wiser.
Toward the end of this dark and stinking corridor, things were getting more than a little disgusting.
Mould covered this ‘School Nurse’ rotting door and neither of us was expecting a saucy, voluptuous nurse clad in white stockings intent on laying either of us down on her inspection table for an intimate genital massage.
Escaping from the basement required a leap of faith upwards, not quite the same as an ‘Assassins Creed’ styled swoop.
Fortune was with us and the bottommost stair held firm, and the air a little more oxygenated.
I noticed the items as we were about to leave. While the usual junkie components of needle, tray and citric acid were hardly surprising I always make an effort to google prescription drugs when found.
The strip is torn but I think this is ‘Pregabalin’, an anticonvulsant, analgesic, and anxiolytic amino acid medication used to treat epilepsy, neuropathic pain and opioid addiction amongst other ailments.
Does this scene stink of hypocrisy? Bloody junkies think they can justify their habit. I was half tempted to nick the second-class stamps which though battered were quite usable.
...‘those are for the next fix, drugs by mail order direct to your nearest heroin den’...
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