Can one cope with the lockdown, and still get vacationing done?
The piccies and odes below, show how Inchcock managed this fete, feet, feat!
I started my wondering, my holiday,
The junk room I was in, so I did stay,
Watched video, although no BluRay,
I viewed episodes, of Red Dwarf and Stingray,
Had nibble of yoghourt, strawberry,
By gum it was nice, to escape as they say!
My next vacation, to the kitchen, it was untidy,
Washed my socks and blue beret,
I was content, not uptight or snidey,
In fact, I was moving well, not torpidly,
I was relaxed, my mind working unhurriedly,
So I left the messy scullery,
Then went on a tour of the balcony!
The windows let in the ice-like rain,
Leaving me wet, cold and unhappy again,
Although stubbing my toe was a pain,
But this trip out wasn’t mundane,
The bleeding left me with a bloodstain,
My slippers’ll have to be cleaned again,
But my sense of humour I did retain,
Porcelain Throne, needed, that I must not retain,
I hope it passes easily and is not a painful strain!
My most used and popular room of them all,
A place where I’ve had many a fall,
Accifaupas, Whoopsiedangleplops I have in there,
Well above my fair-share,
The wet room, always something to hurt, scare or enthral
Good stuff too, to be fair,
Sometimes on the Throne, I see passings in freefall,
Others, with blockages, nothing moves, at all,
Yes, the seat seems to get heavy wear,
At times in there, there’s little fresh air,
Bleach & disinfectant I do share,
It’s a losing battle, but do I care?
Sometimes, I think I must be bilingual,
Frustrated, my language can be, erm… individual,
Naughty words used, I do declare,
When the flush doesn’t work, despair!
No wonder I’ve got no hair!
Then there’s the Sock-Glide in there,
Gives me many a nightmare,
It nips, pinches finger-ends, traps your finger hair,
Blood flows using it’s unfair,
It drives me, nearly nuclear…
””””””””””””
I had planned to visit the ground floor,
But the situation down there was desperate for sure,
Trying to find a way out, I stubbed my toe,
Perhaps later, I’ll give it another go?
Still, I mustn’t complain, though!
Written on the spur of the moment, I apologise!
A jape of an escape to 5 destinations
A junk room with space for Red Dwarf and Stingray encounters
A visit to a place where noshes generate, to be ate
A detour to the precipice of Balcony where distant horizons meet
A wet room with throne where moist remains are thrown
A drop into a subterranean world where duct-taped cardboard an EXIT bestows
A five-realm tour of a thorpean wood told as only an Inchcock could.
I fank you for the commentary, photos, and annotation. 🙂
Jolly decent of you, Billum. Merci Ami.
I like a witty-ditty.
Keep safe.
Crafting witty ditties is my duty, Sir. I enjoy honing wordages. 🙂
Speaking of keeping safe, I got my first of two jab o’ Pfizer this morning. The second jabbing is scheduled for 2/22/21 — Lisa’s birthday. 🙂
So far, no adverse post-jab symptoms. Hurrah!
Me too, Billum.
You beat me to vacsin… vacina, vaksinna… jab, Sir! I hope things stay all problem-free with the indoctrination… sorry, innoculation. fingers crossed.
I have to tell someone, the flaming ‘Hum’ is far louder than ever its been this morning – mind you, I did dewax both ear-holes yesterday. Hehehe!
Love to Lisa and are you on Google email? I asketh top see if you are getting messages failing to get through, or warped sopmetimes when they do? I hope I’ve not been hacked.
Fare-thee-both well!
.
Just a sore spot on the right arm what was jabbed. Thot enough to request that they not poke at my more-important left appendage.
That swine of a Hum, that Hun of a Hum…
Clearing the wax just might have allowed a sizeable portion of Hum to hit the eardrum.
I am indeed on Mr G’s email list:
ziegler.bill@gmail.com
Anyone, including your kind Sirship is welcome to write. Thanks for asking, Sir!
Fare thee well as well, mon ami.
I shall be making the same request when I go tomorrow for the jabski, mate. Your comment started me thinking (I do at odd times).
If they give it in the right arm, with Nicodemus’s dying neurotransmitters, how will the veins know what to do with the medication it recieves? Just another thought. Hehe!
I can sendeth old photos. Thanks cocker.
Merci mon ami
I’m missing having a wee,
The’ve stopped you see,
But I struggle to see,
Blood vessel burst on me,
Too hospital. at least the buses are free,
Hope you like this silly ditty,
Oh, the Throne calls, what a pity!
I am of the opine that the medication will go with the blood flow, giving Nicodemus a friendly wave or two.
A right proper silly ditty it were, Sir! Eight rhymelets that rhyme with glee arrive well ta’ the ear — betterer than a rhyme with aglae is wot I say. Hahaha!!
My regardes ta’ the Throne of Moans:
“Hail fiend, fell met.”
By gum, good thinking, Billum! Merci!
I’ve long done silly ditties, the treachers didn’t like em, as I recall.
Strange you mention the Throne, two visits this morning, greatly different ones, and unfortunately, I failed to get there in time for the second. Grumblenockers!
Always glad to offer an opine or two that helps, mon ami!
The Ministry of Silly Ditties is my kind of governmental service.
The Ministry of Thrones — where moans are always expected.
🙂
Haha!
Merci.