Self-Angering Whoopsiedangleplop! In Ode


Even for me, I made a Whoopsiedangleplop an hour ago that turned my stomach – Started Anne Gyna and Duodenal Donald off – and made me so angry with myself…

Inchcock is a Grangnanging Stupid Old Git!

No idea how I did it – but I lost Wednesday’s Ode I’d been working on for about four and a half hours! Nine verses! And, I thought, it was pretty decent… The hour-and-a-half above, I’ve been trying to find it or find out what the hell I’ve done to lose it… Got the Doctor’s in the morning, so have no choice other than to make it again.
I apologise in advance cause the frame of mind I’m in right now is not conducive to Funny Ode creating!
This means staying up late to get the Ode done… I’m not expecting it to have the usual humour or be any good, the mood I’m in, but I’ll try…

Inchcock is a Pathetic, Useless Pillock!

I told the Social Services lady how much I had in the bank,
Of course, they’ve raised the total allowed, but I was frank,
She offered me an hours help with shopping and laundry,
It’d cost me £280 a week… Holy Lordy!
I said no, I was referred to the Revenue & Benefits, thanks!
She asked if I had money in any other banks…

Inchcock is a Pickleglobknob Idiot!

Nottingham Revenue & Benefits man rang me on the phone,
A 2½hr interview followed I was in the ether-world zone,
My concentration dissipated, off it had flown,
I thanked him with a weary groan…

Inchcock is a Dolt!

He said he’d sent the paperwork to sign & return,
Of course, no help was given, I soon did learn…
Result in today, on a downer now, scowled and had a gurn!
Excuse me, to the Porcelain Throne, I’ll have to adjourn…

Inchcock is a Gnatwrangling Turd!

Unhappy at the elision of the actual cost, though,
Still a secret? Why do they not let me know?
They told me how to pay, and punishment if not…
Added fines if you miss a payment that cheered me a lot!

Schluberdubersnarl, Inchcock!

The limit for money, I thought I might be below, but no,
The figure has gone up; this is not good, you know!
The decision didn’t leave a warm afterglow…
I nearly cried; that could have ruined my eyeshadow,
Blimey, I made a funny! And not getting any Sympatico!

Inchcock is a Senile Old Git!

Ah, I’ll be making beef stew for later; my hunger does grow…
Hello, it’s already late, mate… Carer due, Doctors tomorrow,
I’m still angry with myself; there is a self-pitying sorrow,
Life at the moment is annoying, no zest… hollow!
It’s me that is annoying me… that what I’ll have to forego…
The hidden costs of the carers do rise… Oh, blow!

Inchcock is a Senile Old Git!

An ‘orrible Day Again!

9 thoughts on “Self-Angering Whoopsiedangleplop! In Ode

    • Cheers, Sir.
      Even bigger Whoopsiedangleplop today, Tim! I’ll try to do an Ode about it, or just a tale.
      When am Irvrt going to get a decent day again? Huh!

  1. That is quite a longish list of negatives that overwhelmingly state the state of the Inch at this present time. A lengthy exposition on a self-reckoned state of being, being a tad or two less than favorable or comforting in tone. In other words, a self-defamatory rant peppered with various self-deprecatorial screeds.
    A rantingly powerfully epic, Sir!

    • Another Whopping Whoopdiedangleplop today, Billum… will they never end? A meeting with THE NURSE again… (Shudder, shake and take another tablet) She got in two insults, a telling off and a threat in, and honestly wasn’t in her room for more then five minute, max! Gawd, as Scary-Nurses go, crefit where its due, she is the best! Hehehe!
      Hope I don’t fall asleep doing the blog. I’ve had to take extra Codeines tonight, Back Pain Brenda did not appreciate the stumble down the hill, and there are more holes in the pavement tarmac than ever, getting the trolley not tip over was not easy. I’m waffling yet again. No one tell my problems to, tonights carer didn’t show any interest in nattering at all much.
      You’ve read between the lines as well on that blog Bill – spot on mate!
      I’m just getting the blog started… and its 20:10hrs already!

      • I know that fearsome brand of nurse, all business buy knowing what goes on. Can’t hide a thing when she is on the premises. A mere two insults, you insulted your kind self much more, and it was just yesterday. Wish they had a carer who would just show up to natter and chinwag, something more therapeutic than anything in my personal opine. HRH Lisa accompanied me on a trip to a nearby market, first time in many months, which was also very therapeutic indeed.
        Haven’t heard from Herbert in a while, but somehow know he is still noising around.
        Happy Thorsdag to yer, Sir!

      • Well done HRH Lisa ♥, so glad to hear you’ve got out together, Sir! Did the stallholders shudder, pass on the message of HRH’s arrival, and scurry around checking their products ready for Lisa’s inspection?
        Last night Herbert esd infrrf… I mean indeed, who’s movign these keys?

      • Next week we set off for our good student dentists who are like a bevy of elves who fill the needs of such as Lisa while defeating the fell beasties who would defeat myself and the inimitable Lisa and my bumbling self. Fortunately, Lisa’s avatar gretel is able to rescue my avatar Mumbletunes. Lisa deftly saves us ftom the ne’er-do-wells who use scam techniques to deffeat us. Her informed words send the scammers screaming and running about like so many cockroaches.HRH shines a torch toward them and they scatter in terror. We feel sorry about scaring them so, but eventually they find honest employ, and they thank Lisa for showing them the light. Lisa asks for no remuneration, because she is content to be the simple savior of the world’s health systems.

      • All the very best of luck for the HRH visit to the dentists (the good ones), Sir.
        I still haven’t heard how to pay the increased carer rates… I could get fines if I go behind… or have they arranged it with my bank? Not heard from them about how to pay?
        Your worried Whoopsidangler of Nottingham.

  2. HRH thoroughly enjoyed driving the market’s motorized shopping cart at will about the Olde Shoppe. The actual name of the shoppe is Trader Joes, a good store we frequently frequented in California. Now there are two in the Greater Cincinnati Metropolitan Area. The latest is a short (about 10 minutes distant from our stately manor). Lisa enjoyed the trip with aplomb, finding the magical products that my cheap eyes cannot discern. Made it easy for me to associate the items without 3rd and 4th guessing strains. I am not naturally a chef and do not even have a toque to set a reasonably accurate menu in me head.
    It dotheth appeareth that Herbert has successfully convinced our smaller brains to associate every setting with a Herbert experimental secret product that conditions our respective brains to become uniquely addled and confused. Lisa and me kind self internalise projected sound experiments that autosuggest any number of Herbertesque noises (or do our ears suggest strains of medieval music that transforms clangy noise into experimental notes by Erik Satie? Our inquiring minds wish desperately to hear noise and transpose them to marvelous music by Herbert Satie 🙂

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