The last post about my uber-busy Digbeth weekend. I started Sunday off in the Rhubarb Radio studio presenting Sunday Local with Michael Grimes. It’s a weekly show we do at 12-2pm every Sunday about all things local, be it news, events, music or whatever takes our fancy. John Mostyn popped by to fill us in on the imminent Digbeth O’Lympics, which cartoonist Alex Hughes, who likes to come in and document the proceedings, captured nicely.
Digbeth O'Lympics by Alex Hughes
Karen Strunks and Shona McQuillan also joined us in the studio. After the show we filled up on a nice big dinner at The Big Bulls Head before facing the games. The slideshow of Pete Ashton’s photos above documents our day, which was gloriously anarchic.
We missed the Opening Ceremony, so joined the fun at the Cardboard Coracle Race in the Custard Factory pool. Unfortunately, paint had been spilled into the water the day before so it looked like chemical waste, but at least it hid the fag butts, beer bottles and Christ knows what else was floating around in there.
From there we moved onto The Old Crown, where John Tighe was placed in the stocks for Noise Crimes, and pelted with water balloons.
We moved onto the Spotted Dog, where rumour reached us that someone had thrown an egg 60 feet in The Anchor’s Egg-a-thon and caught it without it breaking. In other news, children were seen running around in custard-filled wellies outside The Wagon and Horses. The Tug-of-War at The Fountain was sadly cancelled due to lack of rope.
Next came the Soapbox Race, which seriously surpassed itself this year for having the sheer gall to take place on Bradford Street, traffic be damned (to listen to their beeping, you’d have thought they were). There were some brilliant creations, such as the Penguin Carrier and a weird Grandad Armchair-Trike hybrid.
After that the children went off to enjoy a Snail Race at The Spotted Dog, whilst the more rebellious amongst us headed to The Rainbow for the Rock ‘n’ Roll triathlon of Sex, Drugs and Rock ‘n’ Roll. I couldn’t resist taking part in this one, which included necking sambucca, blowing up a sex doll and snorting a (legal) line before downing a pint. Unsurprisingly, I was crap. But the humiliation was worth it for the sheer satisfaction that is chucking a telly out of the window.
'Nicky Getgood Housekeeping' says Katchooo
It must of been even more satisfying for those who hit the bullseye target that was Martin Mullaney’s face.
The games ended back at The Spotted Dog with a bizarre Awards Ceremony (I haven’t a clue who won, or why John Tighe drunkenly beat up a penguin) and an extra-special announcement from John Mostyn:
The Free State of Digbeth has no constitution. It has no geographical boundaries. It is the most powerful of all states – a stare of mind.
Oh yes. The Free State of Digbeth is born. We are independent. These streets are ours. We are free. Free to use our roads to race sopaboxes down and throw tellies upon. Free to use our paint-filled pools to sail in boats that sink like lead balloons. Free to wang wellies. Free to lob eggs.
The substandard pics I took are in the slideshow above. It was so much fun, especially when we thought up the idea for a Destroyers calendar – tasteful yet sexy shots of the Destroyers boys with strategically placed instruments. Fiona got started with shooting Mr September:
Destroyers Mr September by Katchooo
Lovely. Then we made our way to The Custard Factory, where art supplies shop The Bench were celebrating their 7th birthday with some sort of graffiti-athon thing.
Unfortunately some paint ended up in the pool, which meant murky waters for the cardboard coracle race in Sunday’s Digbeth O’Lympics. The Bench are recent additions to The Custard Factory, where they’ve been for a couple of months after moving from Quinton.
Before heading home I had a another look around Inkygoodness’ Wonderland exhibition in the Vaad Gallery.
