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About Birmingham

Alright, pal – listen up. I’m talkin’ Escort here. Not the fancy schmancy kind – nah. Ford Escort. That boxy little beast. From the ‘80s and ‘90s – yeah. Like in *Children of Men*. You know – “The world’s gone to hell!” – chaos everywhere. And there’s this car. Sputtering through the dystopia. Reliable as a damn mule. I LOVE that flick – Cuarón’s a genius. “No future, no hope!” – but that Escort? It keeps rollin’.

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First off, I hit up the local café on High Street. You know, the one with the weird name? “Brewed Awakening” or something. I’m thinking, “Gimme a latte, extra shot.” But the barista? Total grump. Like, dude, it’s 8 AM. Smile a bit! Anyway, I get my drink, and it’s like they used a salt shaker instead of sugar. Ugh! I’m like, “What’s this? A salt latte?”

Where each polling station is in the Caerphilly constituency