Inchcock’s Third brave but stupid, Escape from the Lock-Down
We understand, that the Nottingham City Council Security, the Police, and the newly-formed Boy Scouts Woggle-Anti-Lock-Down-Escapers-Retrieval-Team are after him, again!
He arrived at Upper Parliament Street, where he spied and ogled some Nottinghamian ladies, on his way into the Poundland Store, had a Dizzy Dennis visit, and came out with more unwanted goods, such as Zoflora disinfectants, Carnation milk pots, Cooked beef misshapes, and 3×8 bags of his destroyers-to his diet, Frazzles!
He paid the lady, who helped him when he had his funny-turn and dropped his money on the floor, thanked her and made his way to the Bargain Shop on Milton Street. Observing a pair of fine legs-displaying young Nottinghamiam lady, crossing the road against the cross-walk lights. He forgave her we understand.
He patiently waited for some fine bottom-shaped, Nottinghamian Mothers to get there ankle-snappers locked securely in the pushchair, then entered the store. Hoping they would have some of the Pakistani made potato cakes, and lemon air-spray in stock. They didn’t. But the old fool felt so guilty at the thought of not buying anything, he bought a pack of four-mini oven trays, for £1.99, and left to walk through Trinity Square, up the incline, so as to take some pictures of Trinity Walk, but got yet another visit from Dizzy Dennis, and hobbled down to Upper Parliament Street.
The first of the Pavement Cyclist he saw on the short hobble, all-but ran into him. He claims to have called out, “You silly boy!” and waved at him.
Investigations are underway to find out what he actually shouted!
He limped down Queen Street to Nottingham’s Slab Square.
His near-miss at being run into again by another Nottingham Pavement Cyclist, (he says) drew a slightly more forceful response. The old grumpy claimed he said “Tsk! You rascal!”
He walked across to South Parade, where he took a shot of the side of the Council House. Not many folks there, so he turned back and took one of the Square.
He hobbled down Arcade Walk. Amused at how the Nottinghamians were totally ignoring the signs written on the paving stone, to keep to the left.
St Peter’s Square; and the silence was overbearing.
He says he felt like a disaster was about to take place, as he avoided another of the many Nottinghamian Pavement Cyclists.
He told our reporter, that he wanted after over a year and a half, to go into the M&S Foodhall, to get some treats from there ready-made meal section for himself. Shame that. He could not gain entry with his walker to any door but one, all the others have stairs or step that needed tackling to get in. So, after a long painful hobble around he found the doorway, and for his bother, got walked into by two rather large ladies coming out. He could not tell what they said to him, but the words were accompanied by some well-used, superior class sneers and curled lips.
Then he had to walk for what seemed miles, to get to the lift down to the Food Hall. Luckily, there was no one wanting to use the lift, which pleased him, but felt odd, the place used to be very busy all of the day? When he got down, it was a very sad sight! The Coronavirus has had a shocking impact, for M&S. Fridges were curtained off and not in use at all! The usually well-stocked shelves looked bare, by comparison now.
The fool paid £2 for a tiny bag of small potatoes, £1 for a mini tray of basic mushrooms, £2 for small-box of Frites, and £2.50 for four minuscule potato-rostis!
He got to the checkout and had another Dennis Dizzy visit, and Stuttering Stephanie hit him. He claims he was overcharged, but who knows, in the state he was in, owt could have happened.
The poor old senile nincompoop struggled to get up the lift and out of the one door he could use, and onto Lister Gate again.
Back wearily up Exchange Walk, with his famously-reliable EQ, telling him that hassle of some sort was on the way. Which didn’t take long to arrive!
He took a zoomed-in shot with his little Canon camera towards King Street, as a Pavement Cyclist zoomed by his, and he felt the draught the speeding idiot made!
Another Pavement Cyclist came into view.
Then another one, too!
This one came close to hitting the old codge, he came from the rear. Inchcok refused to tell me what actual words he shouted at this Pavement Cyclist.
This particular Pavement Cyclist gave our Nottinghamian pensioner a few looks!
The old scrote carried on his way up to the bus stop, and a final Pavement Cyclist belted by him. He claims he was tired, pee’d off and Dizzy Dennis was visiting him again at this stage. There might be something in what he says cause he can’t remember the bus ride back to Winwood Court!
He says he didn’t see a single policeman all day!
The can recall getting off of the bus though, he cracked his ulcered ankle on the trolley-walkers right-hand back wheel!
This was written and potomagraphed, under great stress. Just thought I’d mention it!
02:35hrs: I came back to a sort of ersatz life, and was in need of a wee-wee. No surprise there, then. I rose gently from my £300, second-hand, c1968, dilapidated, not-working, cringeworthily beige-coloured, rusty, rickety, recliner, and did so with relative ease. Got the stick and caught my balance, and woggled-wobbly to the EOGPB (Essential-Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Bucket) and took a rather unexpected LHLB (Long-Hosepipe-Like-Blasting) wee-wee! There was no AMD (After-Micturition-Dribbling), either? I took the bucket and emptied, washed and disinfected it. 
I got feeling instantly guilty, as, on my the way to the kitchen, I espied positive signs of my nocturnal-nibbling activities! And not just a few Quaver packets, but three, an empty yoghourt pot, and a stick from an iced-sucker as well! (Guilt-Ridden-Mood adopted).
To the kitchenette, and got the kettle on the boil, and took a photo of the morning view, with the Nikon, in aperture-priority mode. Not one of my bestest, but still. 
So, I had a look outside to see if I could hear any in the flat’s hallway, but no! 
The stick thermometer read another healthy-looking 35°c. The second day in a row that it has reached 35°, so things seem to be looking up in that department, anyway. So, apart from the silly-high Sys, things appear okay. 
: The ablutions were carried out. A total of only ei
ght dropsies. No toe stubbings, no clearing any shelves or falls! One two mini-shaving cuts. Perhaps an even better session than yesterday! SSSSME Smug-Swank-Superior-Smiling-Mode-Engaged! 
I moved the maroon jacket I’d washed, rung and hung last night, above the kitchen sink, into the wet room to dry a little quicker, and out the wall convector heater on to encourage it.
Made a start on this template, and the landline burst into life. It was the optician receptionist, telling me the new spectacles are ready for collection, at the shop on Mansfield Road, in Sherwood. I explained that today is too busy for me to get out, and tomorrow I have to wait until the Nottingham City Homes maintenance crew come to repair the fire alarm. 
She seemed pleasant enough, she is about 20-years-old, beautiful, and of course, head over heels in love with me and craves my attention’s and body. Ahem! 
again; Peripheral Neuropathy Pete, launched one of his involuntary right-leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler dances, and over I went, falling on the recliner chairs arm. A b
Minutes later, the intercom buzzed and flashed. It was the Vampire nurse. I admitted her, I don’t how she got up to the flat so quickly, she let herself in and raced to wash her hands, then took the blood in record time! The sweet thing was very busy, as she took the blood, she told she had eighteen calls to make, and she’s spent ages trying to find somewhere to park on-site. Bless her! I slipped her a mini-bottle of champagne before she left, and she scurried out to get to her car, worried she might get a ticket. ♥ 
Then, I got the bags on the trolley, and ~I’m not sure even now how I did it, but I got to the waste chute room and deposited the small bags, caught the lift down tot he ground floor, and got out to the bin – all while dragging the large carpet along with me! And what’s more, without any Accifauxpas or Whoopsiednagleplops! A definite Smug-Mode adopted, accompanied by a sly-smirk!
I noticed later, that the view outside, looked rather like a Legoland erection. That’s not the right word, is it? Tsk! So I took a photo, and I still think it looks like a toy-town view. The colours being similar and the odd murky lightness perhaps? 
I made a mug of Glengettie tea to replace the Punjana one that’d gone cold, and I returned to the computer. The right foot was itching a bit, so I had a peep at it. The new marks had now grown less intense than earlier? It’s all a mystery to me! 
The questionnaire from CityCare Continence Service. They confirmed the appointment is for 10:@15hrs, at the St Anns Valley Centre. 
Sainsbury order arrived. A mixture of delightful, (Lemon Sole for Jenny), naughty (Limoncello for Josie), and my fishy favourites, and some Farmhouse Sourdough bread (a wickedly tasty-treat for myself!) Potatoes, farls, Surimi, fish sticks etc., Great!
I got the fodder inside and stored away, getting my nosh for the night prepared. A good selection of delights: Buttered Sourdough bread, Irish potato farls, smoked streaky bacon, Jenny-supplied yellow and mini-red tomatoes, egg mayonnaise, pickled extra-strong pickled onions, and some fiendishly sweet after-nibbles of, mousse and black grapes. 
I took the meal things to be washed, and moved the box I’d carried the food into the kitchen with, and came across some ‘Lego-Cards?