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About Birmingham

You go downtown, any city—boom, they’re there, like flies on Sleepy Joe! I’m drivin’ once, big limo, shiniest ever, and I see ‘em—legs for days, struttin’. Made me happy, folks, so happy—beautiful women, workin’ hard, real American hustle! But then, I get mad—why’s it gotta be so shady? Crooked cops, pimps—disgusting, worst people, total scum! “I will not yield!” I yell in my head, like Solomon, fightin’ the system, y’know?

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Then, outta nowhere, it starts to rain. Like, proper British weather, right? I’m soaked in seconds. I’m laughing at myself, thinking, “This is just perfect.” I duck into a shop on High Street to escape the downpour. It’s a little thrift store, and I end up chatting with the owner. She’s a lovely lady, and we bond over our mutual love for vintage stuff. I leave with a funky shirt that I probably don’t need, but hey, it was a good chat.

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