Architecture is one of the most awarded professions around. There are awards for young architects, medals for old architects, prizes for small projects and trophies for tall buildings. There are awards for landscaping and lighting, urbanism and public space, as well as for the use of wood and concrete, tiles and bricks. The phrase "award-winning architect" has never been so meaningless.

But there is one prize that the profession does its best to avoid winning. The Carbuncle Cup, for the ugliest building of the year, was launched by Building Design magazine in 2006, "for crimes against architecture". It is to the Stirling prize what the Razzies are to the Oscars, a prize to call out the worst offenders in the built environment – from overblown "iconic" gestures to that grim retail shed (or is it a school?) on your street.

Over the past seven years, the Carbuncle Cup has been awarded to shopping centres and housing blocks, hotels and office complexes as well as – last year, in the most controversial decision yet – to the "restoration" of the Cutty Sark in Greenwich. Engulfing the precious ship in a clunky bubble of glass and punching great holes through its hull and decks, the scheme "tragically succeeded in defiling the very thing it set out to save," in the words of executive editor Ellis Woodman.

In other years, the prize has focused on the real villain of British architecture, the kind of mindless planner-friendly filler that marches up and down the country along railway lines, canalsides and out-of-town centres. Opal Court in Leicester, by Stephen George and Partners, might not have been the worst building of 2007, but it was one of many generic housing blocks. A mountain of rabbit-hutch apartments, trying to hide its bulk with a coat of many colours, its multiple bays were clothed in brick, metal and blue and white panels, and each block topped with a jaunty butterfly roof – a vain attempt to bring some joy to the wretched hulk.

'Lumpen stick of rock' … the Liverpool Ferry Terminal was 2009's winner. Photograph: Building Design

Two years later, the award rightly went to a building that couldn't have had a less sensitive response to its surroundings. The Liverpool Ferry Terminal by Hamilton Architects was a lumpen stick of rock plonked down in front of the Three Graces, disastrously despoiling the Unesco world heritage site – a process the judges described as "like letting a bad second-year student build next to St Peter's".

So which building from the last 12 months is a worthy companion to this catalogue of catastrophes? Which tower is a blot on the skyline, or a bully to its neighbours? Which bloated box has been shoehorned into the wrong place, blocking routes or views? Which architects have been a bit too enthusiastic in the samples library and scatter-shot their facades with a pick'n'mix frenzy of colours or materials? In short, which building is most likely to extract your breakfast?

Add your nominations to the open thread below, and send them to bdonline@ubm.com with a picture and a brief description of why you think the building is a worthy winner.