Street Vomit Calendar Competition!

I’ve got enough street vomit images to make the 2024 calendar.

If anyone has any more, or if you see some whilst you’re out and about this weekend, send them in to be entered into a competition to win a signed copy of the 2024 Street Vomit calendar.

If I use your pic, you’ll get a picture credit.

Submission deadline: Monday 9th October 23.

Hope that helps.

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Seat Of Power, Phallus Daubings, Huge Clocks.

Strolled down to Highbury Hall: This grade II listed Gothic manor house was the home and political power base of one of modern Birmingham's founding fathers; Joseph Chamberlain, the politician, industrialist (instrumental in the founding of industrial giant GKN), mayor of Birmingham, father of Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain, and Nobel Peace Prize winner Austen, and the only Tory (well, he was until this death, after splitting both of the major parties) that I have (grudging) respect for, apart from one time Moseley resident Kenneth Clarke (jazz, cigars) and John Major (Maastricht, boning Edwina Currie). The house, built in 1880, was his home until his death in 1914. During that time, he held positions including President of The Board Of Trade under Gladstone, Colonial Secretary under Balfour; a period in which he became dominant in British politics, supported the founding of the London School of Tropical Medicine in 1899, and instigated the Boer War. N

Moseley Prefabs

Moseley Prefabs. Craig's Birmz History chat. The Moseley prefabs in Wake Green Road. Although they may not look much by today's standards, the pre-fabricated house represented an improvement in living conditions for their inhabitants, many of whom had been housed in crumbling, unsanitary Victorian tenements, or left homeless when the Luftwaffe dropped bare bombs all over Birmz. The Temporary Housing Act, designed to address the chronic post-war housing shortage, saw some 4,000 prefabs built in Birmz, along with many other thousands across the UK. The style here is known as The Phoenix; each prefab was heated, with indoor plumbing and bathrooms, and fitted with the latest labour saving devices. More often than not, the labour to build them was provided by German and Italian prisoners of war. 16 of the 17 in Wake Green Rd prefabs are Grade II listed; some are still occupied, and there is an ongoing project to restore them.

Don Amott: a king amongst men. And caravans. Part 1.

It’s Saturday lunchtime in 1981. I’m at my my nan’s. We’ve just been to Kingstanding Circle, where we bought crusty cobs from a cylindrical bin in the Co-Op. Tongs? No, put your hand in there, and grab them. I know you haven’t washed your hands. No-one has. After the Co-Op, we buy ham. Not the packaged, air-sealed, watery, artificial product that passes for ham now, that which, on opening, assaults the nose with a repellant, gaseous fart. No, the kind of ham only available to purchase in those days; pink, but not too pink, with a white, sometimes yellow rind. Thickly cut, bought from the butcher by your nan, and only by your nan. Different times. Good ham. Nan ham. In the wider world, a sense of shock is still being felt following the assassination of John Lennon. I’d heard the news on the radio as I was getting out of the family Mk 5 Cortina outside Doe Bank Primary School on a dreary December day. A reevaluation of Lennon’s music is under way. Imagine is in the charts

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