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About Birmingham

Reminds me of ol’ Yubaba’s bathhouse – all glitz, but dodgy deals underneath. Did ya know, right, back in Victorian times, prossies used to advertise with coded flowers? Red rose meant “I’m game” – little fact for ya, mate! Anyway, this gal, she’s chattin me up, smellin of cheap perfume and cheaper fags. Made me happy, tho – a real lass, not some stuck-up toff. “We shall fight the posh prudes,” I mutter, laughin to meself.

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Then, I step outside for a breather. The sun’s shining, and I’m thinking, “Maybe I’ll grab a coffee at the Calcot Centre.” But nooo, of course, I bump into my old mate, Dave. He’s always got some wild story. Today, he’s ranting about how he saw a fox on his street—Bramble Road, I think?—and it was just chilling like it owned the place. I’m cracking up, picturing this fox strutting around like it’s the king of Calcot.

Alleged Calcot drug dealer Damon Gallon sent to crown court in custody