This little man came from Kate, who found him on a housing estate in Bethnal Green in London.  He looks like he's had quite a life, and is seriously worse for wear. If he could talk, I would imagine he'd have some great stories to tell. Probably some pretty disturbing stories as well.

When I was a student, I lived on a notoriously rough estate in Swansea. For several years, it was fine; cheap and convenient. It wasn't so much the police climbing our garden walls to catch the neighbours kids, or the neighbours kids trying to break into our house. It wasn't the eggs, rocks and bottles that people threw at our house, though that wasn't quite as useful as the tinned food that they threw at us.
The thing that made me realise I had to move was seeing a group of small children trying to light a petrol bomb in the rain.  I mean, they didn't have coats on.  In Wales, in the winter rain, without proper clothing?  I blame the parents.