A load of old shite that I pay a fortune to store. Name badges, ugly royal memorabilia, a wall of breeze block, a neon motel sign, some old cinema seats, a silicone sculpture of me dressed as ‘Jeff’ (a fictional character from Hello, My Name Is), old cigarette packets, mobile phones, hotel keys, TV guides, religious paraphernalia, fake food, a dry-cleaning unit — the list goes on. This is all with the intention that when I’m dead, someone will stumble upon it and have an exhibition like the one Kubrick had in London; and people will come from far and wide to marvel at my collection of ‘Old Shite’.