Inchcock Today – Friday 8th September 2017: Accifauxpa, Whoopsiedangleplop, Depression and Trotsky Trouble. Still, it keeps me busy. Huh!

Moral? Get Elected to Parliament and Fiddle Expenses?

Friday 8th September 2017

0235hrs: Rain and both types of wind greeted me when I sprang wide awake. Wind outside and from the rear quarters; Which prompted me to disentangle myself from the £300 second-hand recliner, and stub my toe as I hastily made my way to the Porcelain Throne.

Trotsky Terence made the session another messy one. Cleaned things up and into the kitchen. Took the medications with an extra ADR capsule.

Health Checks: Sys 160, Dia 71, Pulse 84, Temp 33.3 and, oh dear, Weight 14.9 Sob!

Back to the Throne, Humph!

Got the vegetables for the lamb meal prepared in the Crock-Pot with water and lamb gravy to season them a bit. Parsnips, mushrooms, orange peppers, carrots, red onions and leeks.

Bit of an Accifauxpa with the knife, Fool!

Made a mug of tea and got the computer on and updated yesterday’s post and did some graphicalisationing to use later.

0500hrs: Did the Email checks and WordPress reading. Then Facebooked for a while.

The stomach started to bloat even more, and the noises from within were gurgling away. Hehe!

Spent an hour doing more work on the next TFZer series.

5Fri020825hrs: Ablutions tended to.

0916hrs: Readied things and set off out to the bus stop.

A few other tenants met in the foyer, and an exodus of those residents took place, with me bringing up the rear. Hehe!

The rain had stopped altogether now, and we made our way to the end of the road and the bus stop.

We were joined by many others, from the Winchester Court Flats. I should think, there were 16 of us loitering, laughing and chattering away. The lady from Briarwood Home was passing and came over to tell me she had gained nearly two pounds in weight. I told her how proud I was of her because I was.

Had a go at the crosswords en route, and dropped off at the terminus on Queen Street.

I had a hobble around all sides of the Council House. On South Parade I noticed the new (Yet another) Burger King eatery had a sign telling us that they had 140 seats upstairs. I couldn’t count those on the ground floor, but there seemed to be the same amount there, so 280 seats. Oddly, I only 5 of them being used by customers as I passed by the place.

I limped down Exchange Walk, to find the new (I think during the day in town I must have walked by eight McDonalds), and this one claimed to have 240 seats available.

They had 12 customers in view.

There are more eateries and Charity Shops than retailers in some areas of the City nowadays.

I called into the M & S food hall in their basement and had a wander around. Didn’t buy anything, just had a nosey. Despite there being a lot of tempting tasty foods on offer, I resisted. (Smug mode adopted)

I exited the store and wandered around ST Peter’s Church area. The old cafe on Hounds Gate that closed two years ago, still lay empty. But I saw that the Estate Agents had put up a new To Let board, in a vain hope of tempting some sucker to try their luck and fail in retailing?

The Nottingham Pavement Cyclist came into view as a bonus. Haha!

I nipped up to the Audiology Clinic to check the date for the hearing test (The reason I was in town) and managed the hill without too much hassle.

The same two ‘Don’t-disturb-our-conversation’ Obergefreiteress receptionists were on duty as on my last visit. And still gossiping away with each other again as they pretended to deal with the patients. I got to the counter of the other lady this time to be given the disdain, derision and scorn that emitted from her expression and vocal-comments, in a far more hostile and practised manner than from those that the other girl offered last week. Obviously, she was the more experienced ‘Put-Downer’ of the two. She had vitiated my day within seconds of her first comment. A true professional disparager, with a smooth, natural tristifical approach to the elderly patients, that the NHS needs to keep the old varmints away and save money! Might I vote for her as ‘The Most Valuable Asset within the NHS’ poll in the newspaper?

Down the hill and called at the Sainsbury Shop and got some flatbread and a bottle of Spring Water.

Round the corner and into the Slab Square. Where the removal of the Nottingham Beach and the entertainment rides and stalls was still going on.

A rare sight at the corner of the Council House, two PCSO’s (Police Community Support Officers). They have had their number cut by 40% as part of the Government cost cutting.

The real star of this shot was the little girl hanging onto her Mother’s hand. As soon as she saw me with the camera up to my eye, the biggest most appealing smile came over her face. Lovely, An entertainer in the making.

As I made my way to the bus stop, this Herbert of a Nottingham Pavement Cyclist on Long Row, weaved his way speedily and dangerously I thought, through the pedestrians, coming far too close to them for comfort. He had a box on his back with UBER written on it. I assumed he was a food delivery chap?

I was well early at the bus stop, so I walked up around the corner and had a wander down the narrow Norfolk Place.

This alleyway always reminds me of America, due to the AC units outside of the windows.

I investigated this building closer and found that in the photograph, is nine student flats.

When I got home, I looked on the web out of interest and found: They cost from £135 (Flat nine single room) to £160 to £200 a week: The higher being for the same room but double occupancy.

Modern kitchen, Shower & WC, High-Speed Internet, Study desk & chair, Shelves, Double bed, Television flat screen HD, Full insulation, Large sofa, Electric cookers, Fridge/freezer, Microwave oven, Shared Laundry Room, Includes Freeview, Water, the Internet, Contents insurance, CCTV.
Electricity: £12. I wonder if the owners take over 70’s in, who are studying survival? Hehe!

Back to the bus stop and caught one home.

Off the bus at the apartments and into the flat ASAP and enjoyed a Porcelain Throne visit for 15 minutes! That was three minutes activities and 12 minutes cleaning up afterwards. Humph!

Got the lamb cooking, other stuff was already in the Crock-Pot.

The wind outside was getting up rather violently, so that gave me an excuse not to clean the dirty kitchen windows again. Tsk!

Fatigue fell on me, as is usual lately in the afternoons.

A rinse and into the jammies, Health Checks and medications were taken – then back to the Porcelain Throne, but it turned out to be a false alarm, just wind from the bloated innards.

Got the nosh sorted and presented on the tray.

This was not a good result at all. In fact, a bad one all round, one of my worst for yonks and yonks. Humph!

The lamb while looking well shriven, was smelling very nice, was not very hot at all, the sauce seemed curdled? I tried adding some Bisto lamb gravy stock to it but realised too late I had used Bisto Pork gravy stock. The vegetables were alright, mind. I ate it all the same but felt that I shouldn’t have after, as the bloated stomach got more and more distended and painful.

Trotsky Terence demanded a return to the Throne and got one. Messy once again and took a lot of sorting and cleaning when over with.

However, I did feel much easier after the session and treated myself to some of the Morrison’s Lemon curd Ice-Cream.

Within seconds of enjoying this, it was back to the Porcelain Throne! I was aware of how lucky I had been that Trotsky didn’t attack while I was out and about!

Took another of the capsules and an extra painkiller.

Slowly the innards seemed to settle, and I got down in the £300 second-hand recliner, and watched three Hustle DVD episodes, without falling asleep, too!

Got up for a wee-wee, and realised I’d left the hot water tap running.

Despondency came over me. Genuine real few ennui minutes. So much so, that when I got settled again and turned off the TV and DVD, sleep would not come, for the brain was racing. Trundling along of its own accord, self-recriminations, loathing… the failures, inabilities even loneliness… I was a mental wreck for a while.

Now I know I am a lucky person because I was not coping with these emotions well at all – when the innards winds blasted out, and another rush to the wet room was needed, it helped.

Even I had to laugh (between curses, Hehe!) when I stubbed my toe again en route, on the same flipping bucket, the bucket that everytime I stub the tootsie on, I swear to move, and don’t! I’ve now moved it! The session was mostly wind, but still needed a bit of cleaning up afterwards again. All this seemed to help me forget the blues and depression, and I limped back to the chair and got down, the world was a different place.

Wierd or what?

7 thoughts on “Inchcock Today – Friday 8th September 2017: Accifauxpa, Whoopsiedangleplop, Depression and Trotsky Trouble. Still, it keeps me busy. Huh!

  1. Is McDonald’s that popular in Nottingham to have passed 8 before you got to the 240 seater? No golden arches? That’s nice you made the little girl smile. Those flats seem pretty reasonably priced. The photos make them look much more modern on the inside than your photo of the outside. Students probably need that air-conditioning to keep the brains from overheating. To bad the food was a flop. Looks good in the photos.

    I think a lot of people get those feelings of “self-recriminations, loathing… the failures, inabilities even loneliness…” Trying to keep up with life in the modern world just really sucks a lot of the time, but we are lucky to be connected world-wide, cause even as much as we are alone in real-time and real space, there ares always friends up and online somewhere around the world in cyberspace.

    Speaking of lonely, one area I wouldn’t think robots would make inroads is the sex industry, but then I’m quite ignorant when it comes to going ons in the sex industry. Girly robots that moan are reportedly taking over at some brothels, and those brothels are replacing human hookers with robot hookers. While I’ve never been to a brothel or had relations with a hooker, sex with a robot just seems all wrong to me — even if the robot moans. But I guess guys are into it, and the idea goes way back — remember the Stepford Wives? I was watching an Italian music video the other night were the guys were say “Yes! Yes! Yes!” they wanted sex, and the women said “No! No! No!” forget it busters. Bring on the girly robots!

    • McDonald’s, Burger King, KFC, and Pizza places are all over the City, Tim. I can’t really understand the attraction of them myself.

      And as for Coffee Shops in the City Centre. Caffe Nero: 6, Coffee Republic: 4, Costa 5, Starbucks 6 that I know of, and endless smaller private owned ones. How do they make them pay?

      Bit of a contrast with the inside and outside of the flats. They did seem a low cost to me too. Students probably need that air-conditioning to keep the brains from overheating and clearing the smell of the drugs too? Hehe!

      Big disappointment that nosh was. It did look good and smelt wonderful, but oh dear, the taste. Eurgh!

      I woke up this morning feeling so low and depressed about almost every thing and was a little fretful of life? But later I cheered up a lot. No idea why? You are so right about having riends up and online somewhere around the world in cyberspace. I’d be lost without them.

      Girly robots that moan are reportedly taking over at some brothels??? Like you, I’ve never partaken of what is on offer in the red light areas, but surely if a man is undersexed or shy or lesser-gifted in the lower regions, he could buy one of his own to use at home? I wonder if they have a volume control for the hard of hearing? Hehehe!

      I’m afraid I have to show my lack of education and life. I will look up The Stepford Wives. Back in a while.

      I’m back. I must try to find the time to watch this movie, sounds hilarious.

      Bring on the programmable girly robots!
      Haha!

      • It’s been many years since I saw the Stepford Wives. I found it rather disturbing at the time. According to the Sun.co.uk, robot sex dolls run tens of thousands of pounds. I don’t think the average bloke can afford one. But they are probably a deal for brothels compared to human hookers.

        How many craft beer breweries and puds do you have in Nottingham? We have like 30 or more in Albuquerque. That’s besides the regular bars. We are infested with brew pubs. We have 51 Starbucks in Albuquerque (a tad more than the 6 you account for in Nottingham), and now the brew pubs are catching up to the the coffee shops — I think it’s a sad commentary on life in general to have so many brew pubs. Drunk driving is a real problem in Albuquerque, and more brew pubs don’t help cut down on DWI! I drink coffee, but I make my own (thick and strong, like motor oil). I don’t like beer, and bars are depressing. I suppose if I had to choose, I’d rather listen to a sex doll moan than hang out in a brew pub and drink a beer — especially if I can just turn her on with a switch to make her moan.

      • I see what you mean about the ‘dolls’. They might need servicing (No pun intended, Hehe!) and oiling now and then, but they won’t need drugs or want to steal from the pimp? I wander if Amazon sells them yet? Haha!

        I think there are about 24 Micro-pubs in Nottingham, and 11 Mini-breweries, according to the google map. I stopped drinking (Alcohol anyway, hehe) many years ago, it was getting the better of me.

        Same here Tim, drink-driving and No licence, No insurance driving is really getting ridiculous now. As I said a while ago, if they get caught for all three, they just seem to a one to two hundred pounds fine, and they have saved perhaps £1000 in not paying for their insurance in the first place, and without insurance, they cannot tax their vehicle… oh, it wrangles me.

        Not that drinking could concern or bothr me now. I fall asleep beofre the pubs open let alone close. You’ve got to laugh.

        The most populous shops in Sherwood are, pubs, gambling shops, Charity Shops, Eateries and empty shop units. Humph!

        Ah, well, medication time.
        TTFN Sir.

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