Inchcock’s Morning Musings – In Ode

Inchie Woke With An Idea For Today’s Blog Theme!

He went into Photographicalistical mode straight away. Well…

And after the traditional painful, challenging wee-wee,
He got his Canon camera and dropped it, accidentally,
Well, he’s getting senile now and rather elderly…
His thoughts and actions are slow, performed dottily,
He hurt his back, bending to retrieve it; he needed another pee!
Yet it still worked, so he took his first photo, jauntily…

He took it from the balcony,
The red van parked, again, illegally…
Yesterday, the lights shone brightly…
This photo came out fairish – a periodicity!

Clear morning, t’was no longer foggy…
The following two shots were taken in duplexity…
Top one to the north-east,
Second to the south-east,
Not so good these, my apology!.

He took an extra snap, using technology…
He’d zoomed in, to him that’s using gadgetry,
He went into a smug mode, as he did one correctly!
He even charged up the battery…
For him, that’s technological activity!

But the twerp couldn’t get the card to work
The computer was confusing the burke!
Card reader not recognised, he went berserk!
From his efforts, he did not shirk…
And by some miraculous quirk…
He got it to work, the jerk!

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

After making a brew of Thompsons Punjana tea, stubbing his toe, and dropping the milk bottle, he cleaned the mess up. Took his CBD.

The formula was frivolously formulated for phrasemaking while Inchcock was busy cutting himself shaving. He can’t recall what it was exactly but decided that as he continued with his ablutions and medicationalisationing, he might get inspiration or a vague idea for a new plot. But, by the time he stopped the chin bleeding and utilised the Porcelain Throne, the earlier plan of his blog’s theme had plodded off into the ether, lost forever…

Teeth cleaning, nasal decongesting, and into the shower. Inchie banged his shoulder against the power-box (Dizzy Dennis to blame). Swore violently. Took his shower, then set about doing his medicationalisationings.

These went reasonably well (Did I say that?) The most painful bit of agonistically applying the stinging Betamethasone cream really was nowhere near the pain it usually was? This was a good start.

Treating Arthur Itis, Colin Cramps, Shaking-Shoulder-Shirley, Ankle-Ulcer-Herbert. Harold’s Haemorrhoids, Saccades Sandra, Duodenal Donald, Back-Pain-Brenda, Little Inchies, Fungal Lesion were all medicated. The none Carer and prescription items were applied to many parts of the body.

Saccades eye drops. He was gobsmacked at getting some of the liquid into the eye, for once. Of course, he managed to get some in his nose and mouth as per usual.

A second hobbling speedily attended visit to the Porcelain Throne was followed by taking two Dioctyl® capsules. To counter Trotsky Terence’s return! Messy, very much so! Took ages to clean things up afterwards.

Carer Richard arrived. Soon got the medications sorted, and he made sure I took them and didn’t drop any, bless him.

It was his last call, so he spent a little while having a chinwagging session with me. The lad’s gone through many similar procedures as I have, but poor Richard got them a lot earlier in his life. Which I appreciated.

He’s coped amazingly well with things. A caring bloke, too.

He seemed to be cheery,
And, off Richard did flee,
I had another pee…
Colour chart for the wee,
Was on number three,
Now six, it smelt musty!
Oh, back to the lavatory,
Oh, what a malady!

Well Into The Afternoon…

But no one had told Inchcock, the chatterbox…
Chattering to himself, sipping dandelion & burdock!
Thinking he may just wash his socks…
A message comes through on his voicebox…
Unsolicited mail, through his letterbox…
He forgets the socks: arrears in his Carer fees shocks!
Over £400 – Oh, Hollyhocks!
That’s not what he said, but it also rhymes with Bullocks!
He plans to get it paid by the following equinox!

Supplementary Information

A change of nosh style, I’m watching the size of my hips!
Vegetarian sausages, peas, swede and lentil potatoes…
C
hilli sauce, onion gravy, a banana, oranges…Oh, and chips!
I forgot to take from the fridge the tomatoes…
And now my rear quarters blows and blows!

The Nottingham Lads True Tales of Woe In Rhyme Series

Food Glorious Food!

♫ Food Glorious Food… ♫

But no hot chocolate or custard!

I beginneth the Ode, with the tale from Tuesday,
With food being delivered from Iceland, I say,
Sainsbury’s, I wanted to use, as I would, ordinarily,
Could I get access to their site? No flipping way!
Hence, my disappointment today, Wednesday…
Sorting the food delivered left me in dismay!

I opened the first bags onto the server trolley tray,
Bananas looked nice and green, should last many a day,
But the potatoes had growths on them and use by this Thursday!
No faults with the orange juice, pasties Cornish and Cheesy,
The lamb shanks I’d not had for a long time (budgetary),
I’ll have a lamb shanks in gravy tonight, to myself I did say…,

The next load I put out on display…
The dates left this septuagenarian giddy!
No dates on either pack of tomatoes, hey!
Both lots were soft and beginning to decay!
Two loaves of bread, both expired today!
Sugar snap peas, they were safe until Friday!
The mushrooms one day left, Wednesday, today!
The other stuff’s dates seemed to be okay!

The last few bits seemed better by to review,
But the brown cob packs should have been two!
But they only sent one, which was dearer – Boo!
Fairy liquid was on offer, just £1… that’ll do!
Oh, and the sweet chilly Thai sauce was £1 too!

Then the old warped memory came into play…
I didn’t want or need the chilli sauce anyway!
Memory-Lapse – another waste of effort, and monetarily,
For I’d got a massive jar last week,
Pissed off with myself, so’s to speak.

My Biggest Gastronomic Disappointment Ever!

Sob, Blubber!

I got around to cooking the lamb shanks at last

I got around to cooking the lamb shanks at last,
Such a long time since I’ve had such a repast…
I could hear my taste buds as they clacked…
Remembering the glorious taste, from the past…
Assured the delightful flavour would be a blast!

My hopes were high; I intended to eat it all…
But my cheeriness had a great fall…
It was horrible! I didn’t like it at all!
Sweet and sickly, for lamb, not natural,
Disappointing and incredible!
The sweetness made it inedible,

Why did I trust Iceland? Incomprehensible!
For Iceland, it’s only typical…
Nowt to fret over, nothing unusual…
I’d buy them out and sack them all…
If I had the wherewithal…

Depressed! I pottered about in the cupboards

Stuff in the end cupboard, to be eaten…
Most unwanted substitutes from the heathen…
Wicked Iceland and Morrison’s: They are Rotten!
Unwanted crap I don’t like sent, all too often!

No shortages of seasonings, though…
Parsley, Chilli, BBQ, Pickles and Oxo,
Lea & Perrin sauce, Balsamic, Marmite,
The innards are rumbling… problems gastro?

Oh, dearie me!
To the Porcelain Throne, I had to go,
Shit! I’ve just stubbed me hammertoe!
I’m just not a lucky bunny, you know!
What was I odeing about a while ago?

The cupboards… vinegar, soups, beans, red, gungo,
Mulligatawny, black and white pepper, Go-Glow…
Go-Glow? Why is that in there? A mystery, though?
With flavourings galore! Core, my toe’s getting sore…
No meat hereabouts… A lamb shank for sure…
A packet of out-of-date marshmallows…

Ah, I’ve got the bean and cheese pasty in the fridge!
I checked the sell-by-date and found a dead midge?
I’m struggling here, just a smidge…
With this Odeing verbiage…
Hell, summat else out of date, a box of porridge!

The Door Chime, Chimed!

It was the Amazon delivery;

On the orders of cleaner Esther, I’d ordered an ironing board…
But another Whoopsiedangleplop had matured!
These and Accifauxpas for me, are assured,
There’s no way stopping them from coming; it can’t be cured!
Their perpetuity can be assured…
I think that can be said officially; rest assured…
Another cock-up, mistake or Accifauxpas will be sculptured!
They just can’t leave me alone; it’s such a bind!.

Thoughts At The Time

Is the ironing board a self-assembly one, then?
The box wasn’t heavy, it’s too tiny, indeed… Freakier!
Got inside and found they had sent; no snigger!
An ironing board cover? Another Inchy blunder?

Now I can see where and how and feel in despair!
Is that not a picture of an ironing board above there?
My lousy eyesight causing problems there…
I’m fed up and don’t think life is fair!

Inchcock’s Making The Best Of Things Series – In Ode

Billum, treats Inchcock’s Ailments

A bit of fictional fun in Ode here

I hope it brings a smile and a laugh!

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

It All Began…

T’was months ago, when Billum said, “You need curing!”
“I do?” I replied Billum’s words had got me wondering,
We continued with our badinaging,
The result, revealing a fascinating thing!
Bill continued with a medical debriefing,
He’s a clever chap, quite a scientific boffin,
He’d worked out how to mend the ailments that got me coughing!

He could cure or ease many an ailment without any drugging!
His lad Alan had had a look in…
Did the mechanical engineering,
Medical engineering? That got me fearing!
H.R.H. Lisa, had the first aid kit ready… encouraging?
At this point, I had to ask… is this going to be hurting?
And can I and H.R.H. Lisa do some flirting?

The procedure would take a few days, but no haemorrhaging,
Chances are, Inchie, that you’ll not feel a thing!
Lisa will be there, and take your care under her wing,
But flirting? No, or you really will be hurting!
I thanked him, asked Billum if it involved my contortioning?
“Well, you might jerk about a bit; that’s nothing…”
“You’re used to Shaking Shaun, un Peripheral Pete bugging!”
“Once we set up the various electrics…” Lisa was earwigging…
“Worry not, Inchie… for Billum is not a fledgling!”

“This electroconvulsive therapy will soon have you jogging!”
Then we’ll make you a meal and give you some noggin!
“That’ll be marvellous Lisa, I’d just love some snogging…”
“No, I said noggin, not snogging; oh, dear, your hearing!”
“The syringing, I’ll do that for you! It’ll be astonishing!.

Billum and Alan helped me with the plans on travelling,
The transport I could afford needed ambushing…
I nicked the lorry and got to near Ohio, without any bathing…
Poor H.R.H. and Billum did a bit of nose-clenching!
But soon Billum took charge, first my showering!

Getting over my fears needed establishing,
My worrying, Billum started extinguishing,
He got out his plans to explain, and I stopped flinching…
“I’ll tell yer, in simple terms, what you can be understanding…
We all sat down, and I started listening…

And let’s face it, you’re loaded with them! Electroconvulsive therapy (E.C.T.) is a procedure done under general anaesthesia, in which small electric currents are passed through the brain, intentionally triggering a brief seizure. E.C.T. seems to cause changes in brain chemistry that can quickly reverse symptoms of certain mental health conditions.

Lisa at your side throughout. We know how you love her so, so we’ve asked her to give the odd squeeze of your hand, keep gong close to you so you can smell her perfume, and hear her words of comfort… But try not to get too excited! Remember, it’s all part of the procedure. We won’t be bothering with any anaesthesia because we will have H.R.H.

After having some of H.R.H.’s special Chilli Con Carne and a cream cake, we will be doing it in the basement laboratory.

Hahaha! Nowt to worry over Inchie, E.C.T. is good on older adults who can’t tolerate drug side effects. A muscle relaxant is usually used during the procedure to stop the patient’s muscles from moving during the seizure. Still, we’ll skip that cause with your Peripheral Neuropathy; there ain’t a cat in hells chance of you not twitching.

“Fair enuf!” At this, one of the cats jumped up on my knee and rubbed its chin against mine! Nice!

We’ll throw in a bit of Transcranial Magnetic Stimulation (T.M.S.). We think we’ve improved the procedure by swapping bits here and there. Alan worked out that the hyperparameters programmed into the medical device were used to deliver magnetic therapy to the brain by reducing the max-pooling in the convolutional neural networking of the design of the machine. Naturally, this means that your Body Mass Index (B.M.I.) and hypertension will be of less concern than they usually would be, you see?

There’s no worry about quantum entanglements, blue-shiftings, or Lagrangian points. These have all been factored into our plans. As with fasciculations and diaphragmatic flutters, There will be a chance of you horripilationing, but that is of no consequence, as you know.

“Oh, good!” No idea what Billum was on about. He forgets how thick I am, I think. After a lovely nosh, down to the basement, I was led…

A shame, really, but I woke up then!

Part of the Inchies Make Them Laugh-In Ode Series

Inchcock’s Visit to Specsavers

What comes into your mind when you see the logo above?

I’d like to explain the two things that come into my mind, if you’ll bear with me, please… Thank you. Both with equal venom and hatred as the bearers of the sign.

1: DOMINIC CUMMINGS

First: Dominic Cummings. Who cheated all justice in not being prosecuted and sentenced for his stupid strip to Barnard Castle – but mainly his weak, pathetic, schoolboy excuse he came up with. That he expected us to believe. Or possibly his friends who know too much in the Government came up with? I hate the man! Well, his ridiculous actions anyway. Just thought I’d like to mention it!

On with the Tale Of Woe…

2: Two Specsavers

The NHS hearing aids had both broken for the same reason. The lady at the NHS audio clinic advised me that the tubes had not been cleaned properly. I pointed out my problems with Shaking Shaun, the Peripheral Neuropathy and Saccades affecting my sight. And asked if there are other models available that might be easier for me to disassemble, clean and reassemble?  A concrete No was the answer to that question. But I could see my Doctor, to see if anything was available…

At this point, I could not hold back my laughter at the thought of actually seeing my Doctor. “I’d love to see her, I thought!” The Audiologist told me that it would be about three weeks, at the earliest, before the aids were repaired. I thanked her and deafly made my way without the hearing aids, out into the rain; at least I couldn’t now hear the heavy raindrops hitting the hearing aids… well, I wouldn’t, would I? Haha!

Then, as I wobbled with the walker down the steep hill I’d climbed to get to the clinic, I had an epiphany… of sorts. Dang, I’ll not go on suffering and go to the nearest hearing aid place and get a cheap pair to get me over the waiting time for the repairs to be done. Not exactly one of betterer ideas at all!

Although I didn’t know it at the time, and, even more, the costly and frustrating choice was made… I know, I’ll go to Specsavers for them. Ay, aye, aye!

By the time I’d innocently battled m way to the store on Wheeler Gate, I was not in a sound condition. Out of puff, and with Dizzy Dennis giving a pasting, as I entered the store.

So, my concentration was not good, but unfortunately, it was ripe for me to be lied to, conned and overcharged.

The Greeting From The Snotbag on the Reception

As she turned from talking to a staff member behind her, her top lip curled as she saw me approaching. She gave me a look done and up before she spoke. Then, “Yes, can I help you?” emphasising you!

Me: “I wanted to talk with someone about buying some hearing aids?”

Snotbag: “For yourself, or someone else, I see you are not wearing any aids yourself; we cannot do tests unless…

Me, interrupting: “Yes, they are for me; not having any hearing aids in is why I’m here to spend my money on a new pair!” I think she was taken aback by a smidgeon with the curtness of my voice… She hesitated in answering, and I jumped in again, driving home my determination before it melted, with; “They are both broken and will take a while to get repaired, so if you cannot see me today, I’ll not bother you any more” Brave or what?

Snotbag: Now full covered, countered with showing a semi-smile and disgust at having to do so simultaneously: “I’ll contact the technician to see if he can make himself free to give you some time. If you’d like to look at spectacles frames while you wait?…” Spectacle frames? She’s already trying to sell me some new glasses?

She back in a few minutes, the hatred for me, had moulded into her beautiful face. Take a seat over there, waving her arm around. As I manoeuvred the trolley away, making sure not to knock into anything, her voice rang out in an admonishing, “Not there, at the end seats!” I think my smiling back at her got on her goat!

A few minutes later, a young chap, who was the Audiologist, came to me, and was very kind and patient with me, led me into a bit of room, got me sat down and said he had to go some treatment room but would be back shortly. My EQ told me to leave now… but, like the idiot I am, I didn’t listen to him!

While I waited for his return, l read and copied the Hearing Aid Prices from a poster on the wall:

Specsavers Advance Star: £495
No rechargeable option

Specsavers Advance Standard: $899
Rechargeable +£100

Signia Active: £995
Rechargeable (Standard)

Specsavers Advance Plus: $1,095
Rechargeable +£150

Specsavers Advance Premium: £1,395
Rechargeable +£100

Specsavers Advance Super: £1,695
Rechargeable +£100

Specsavers Advance Elite £1,995
Rechargeable +£300/+ £400

Signia Styletto 3X, AX £,995 (Rechargeable option only)
Phonak Paradise 70: £1,995
Phonak Marvel: £1,995
Signia 3 Xperience: £1,995
Signia 3 AX: £1,995

Rechargeable +£100/+ £200 Signia Styletto 7X, AX
Phonak Marvel 70
Phonak Paradise 70: £2.395 (includes titanium)
Phonak Paradise 70: £2.395
5 Xperience: £2.395

Phonak Marvel 90 (includes titanium)
Rechargeable +£100/+ £200 Signia Styletto, AX
Rechargeable +£100/+ £200 Signia Styletto 7X, AX
Phonak Paradise 90: £2,695
Signia 7 Xperience: £2,695
Signia 7 AX: £2,695

Rechargeable +£100/+ £200
Signia Styletto, AX: £2,895
Signia Active Pro: £2,895

I was thinking of an escape plan for when the Audiologist returned. But he arrived sooner than I anticipated; I git in quickly with: “The aids start at £495 on this list, is that the cheapest?” As he was looking at my NHS hearing report record. “Oh, no, they are some cheaper they do not advertise. He had a look in the earholes and said that the right one had the most compacted wax he’d ever seen before! I replied calmly, “Yes, all the first time audiologists say something like that each time”. He had a heck of a job in getting it out; it took him ages. Then he just had to leave the room to show a dollop of wax he’d got out to his colleagues, and two of them came back in the room with him to look into my right earhole???

Then, the great decision on which aids to buy. I asked which were the cheapest? £49.95, in the ear ones. “But they would not suffice for your needs!” And they have no volume control on them. “Oh!” That was my response. “What’s the next ones up?” £99.99, he said. “Would they suit me?” “Well, not really, but the next ones are the £499 ones.

“Oh, I see!” How long would they be getting made for me?” “The Specsavers Advance Star would take about three days!” I pondered a few seconds, thinking Star ones were the £99.99 ones, and thinking that was for the pair, agreed on then. Paperwork done, aids paid for, I returned to Snotbag on the desk.

Where I found that the £99.99 was for each aid. Also, they would take three weeks, not days, to arrive! What a farce! Conned Again! I’m very good at that, getting duped.

By the time the NHS aids were repaired, about five weeks later, I had gone to collect them and pick up the Specsavers ones afterwards.

Snotbag was not there that day, but she was amply substituted by Haughty-Hilda. The aids were tinny sounding, ill-fitting, unreliable, rubbish, junk, crap, ineffectual, impractical, and shoddy!

The moral of this little tale is, I think:

If you are naive, trusting, ingenuous, innocent, credulous, unworldly, deceivable, and childlike, you will be broke financially, vulnerable, exploitable, malleable, gullible, or mouldable. Also, half-witted, stupid, brainless, dense, or Inchcock-like… Do Not Go Anywhere Near Specsavers!

Part of the Inchcock’s Tips & Advice Series

36 Graphics of this year – Wot Inchcock done for the TFZers

36 of this year’s Graphics – done for the TFZers

I’d like to start with one done earlier – for Sandie Lentz. It was Sandie that started the TFZ (Troll Free Zone). Initially, with only former members of Yahoo Questions Site, which was getting overly trolled.

We all loved and miss Sandie. Her other hobby and fascination was the American Civil War history. When I made this graphic a few years ago, she said she loved it, so it goes on first for the TFZ and our former First Lady. With Love.

♥ Sandie Lentz ♥

Here are a few from earlier this year. As they came from the file.

Pattie, Janet, Marie, Gladys Lona & Jillie. ♥

Pattie ♥ & Meritt

Jillie, in the sea! ♥.

Keith nibbling.

Nancy, gorrit organised! ♥

Janet & Me

Mary – Well done! ♥

Jillie & Mary ♥

Nancy, Marie, Pattie, Betty, Meritt, Wayne, Me

Keith. Hehehe!

Pattie & Serge (Hubby) ♥

Janet A, Heather, Keith & me ♥

Pattie – Cor! ♥

TFZers Tribute Trio Consisting of Julie, Lillie and Linda

Janet A, me, and Keith nosing at us. Hehe!.

Marie ♥ – Had enough of the entertainment?

Marie, Keith and me. (Bacon lovers)

Lona, Patricia, Julie, Nancy, Janet, Heather, Jillie, Meritt, Keith and the two Thomas’s.

Kitchen again – We like our food! Mary, Gladys, Jillie and Nancy

Janet cooking! Is that absinthe?

Meritt organising the TFZer transport.

Gladys (Many members favourite – mine too)

Julie doing what she does best! Haha!

Another Winner for Shirley! ♥

Mary dining! Free drink?

Part-Time Astronaut Julie!

Full-time Cook, Marie, Cook for me any day!

Actress Nancy – getting paid… for what? Haha!

Mary with Keith lurking?

Heather serves the ale – Thomas & Andy interested.

All the lads ogling Gladys! I don’t blame them!

Marie and Thomas S

Pattie, with guess who thumbed a lift?

Lona – Not to be messed, this gal!

Lillie, attracting the attention of the ship cleaner?

Hello, Lona’s back – on stage with Thomas G!

.

.

Listening in to Alto-Inchy and Inchy-Id, discussing Christmas


All the best to my faithful flock of followers all,
The masses who have remained so loyal,
To the rubbish I’ve posted, my error-ridden scrawl,
Be they funny, sad, pathetic or philosophical,
Christmas time again… although there is no snowfall…
I’ve got plenty of fodder in, all very edible,
Although Inchcock is unquestionably unintellectual…
His Odes come out mostly; sadly ineffectual,
My followers are precious; you are my windfall!
And, both of you are moral and mortal…
Thank heavens for the WordPress portal!

The Verbal Conflict I Listened Into

From my scrawled notes mostly, so accuracy may be limited. Certain words (naughty) have had to be substituted. I left the last word in; cause there was nothing worth replacing it with. Sorry!

Worra yo doing here? I am Alto-Id; you don’t recognise my superiority?

Never seen yer before, or heard of yer… Worra yo do then? Don’t bother answering, I’ll tell yer… I am the principle that pertains to pleasure, while you, the Alto Ego, is the principle that relates to reality.

Is yer? Well, I’m the one in charge ‘ere…

Hahahaha! Knob-rot, mush!

Do yer mean like Inchcock’s fungal lesion on his Little Inchy?

No, I am well aware of all of the idiots’ ways, whims and stupidity; I’ve been waiting in the wings and watching, learning for donkey’s years. My usage of the Knob-Rot indicated that you talketh rubbish, Alto!

Yer a bit nasty ain’t yer, almost cruel, I’d say. Inchcock is struggling with my existence, now you cum along, and it’ll likely as not send the old git bonkers… best you piss-off out of it mate!

Oh, dearie me, it’s as I feared. You’ve been in Inchcock that long. You have been infected by his senility and ignorance…

Owd on! I knew Rat-face when he was almost verging on normality, for a human-like. See, I’ve been here for ‘im forever! I’ve supported him through some terrible times and ailments, apart from mucking it up with his depressions; it’s me who gorrim through double pneumonia, cancer, duodenal ulcers, being shot… twice, his heart replacement, diabetes, peripheral neuropathy.

Piffle! Utter rubbish, you pathetic imitation of an Alto-Ego you!

What? I thought I wuss doing a good job… well, I was! After all that I’ve done to annoy him, I did not know if he was coming or going at times…

Exactly! That’s why I’ve been activated, see?

Err… no!

What about glaucoma, saccades, floaters and cataract, then? How come you’ve not addressed his vision problems then? Hey?

Well, I can’t physically mend them, can I? It’s my job to just ensure they annoy him as persistently as possible, innit?

You have no idea, have you? What’s the point in letting the git to go blind? How will that build your reputation in the Chakra-Id-Alto Corporation? You’ve got to do better, else you’ll not be moved into another body when he snuffs it… I’m telling you!

The CIAC management is more than happy with my performance in the 930038-530 Semi-male model Inchcock.

How do you know?

Well, they’ve not complained…

Have they sent you a monthly report for November yet?

Monthly Report? No, I’ve never had one.

Hahaha! You’re in the shit, mate! You could well get prematurely removed from 930038-530/TIT Semi-male model Inchcock and sent to a body that is mentally and physically undamaged…

Oh, my Gawd, no… Are you joking?

Nope!

How can any Alto-Ego cope with a human like that? I won’t stand a chance of worrying, scaring, frightening or intimidating them…

I know. This could mean the end of your existence Alto!

No, no, no, we live forever…

Only if the CIAC management deems that you are worthy.

Oh, shit! I was so happy here, a comfortable rotund over ample midriff, an uncomplicated, slow brain to peruse through at my leisure, without much intelligence or activity going on…

You are aware that the host body has the capability to eliminate you, are you? (Sounds of chucking in the background).

No, you’re wrong there…

Yer? What about CIAC Guidelines & Cautionary Advice 112,145,23 then?

Erm…

I’ll tell you. “In the event of any Alto-Ego failing to cause a suicide attempt within 72 years of occupation (Failed) of the aforesaid body; Any host at this time maintaining 70% of its maximum intelligence, 50% of its willpower, and 50% of its maximum concentration; can apply to it Id to eliminate any Alto-Egos from its earthly body – upon signing its soul over to the CIAC Soul Bank Ltd!

I ‘ave to think abarght this…

Take yer time, Alto; I’ll move on and inform Inchcock of his options…

NO! It won’t work cause Inchcock has nowhere near 50% of his concentration left. Only 10% of his memory…

And you think that I can’t retrieve it for him?

You wouldn’t?

Oh, yes, I can, easily!

Well, that’s not in the Spirit of the Chakra-Id-Alto Corporation? I’ve never been so happy before as I am within 930038-530 Semi-male model Inchcock has been. He’s so gullible, malleable, a right thicko to con and manipulate…

And I can change all that within a few seconds. By advising Inchcock of his options, Hehehe!

But I might have to go back to the lonely CIAO Retention Safe again? I’ve already had 2000 years in there before getting this posting? Oh, my dearest Id, whatever can I offer or do to prevent this from happening?

I may be tempted to say nothing to the idiot host under certain conditions…

Yes, yes…

One: You bow to my every whim, order and threat!

Erm.. go on…

Two: You openly admit to Ids being totally and unquestionably superior to Alto-Egos!

Mmm? Go on…

That’s it… if you agree, I’ll keep my gob shut! But it’s a one time only offer, so you have to decide now!

How do I know I can trust you?

How do I know I can trust you?

Oh, heck…

I’ll tell you what… As a ‘Class A’ Knight of the CIAO Id Convention, I swear this to be true! Sign the Oath stating these beliefs as written, and I’ll leave the Inchcock Host instantly, never to return.

That seems okay… Alright, I’ll do it, and you’ll disappear instantly?

You’ll never see me again!

Here you are then (Scribbling sound) and good riddance!

Hehehe!

You lying bastard!

Local News Snippets with Comments Part 5⅜

Good Question!

I’ve got arithmophobia, numbers leave my head in a haze,
No doubt, I’m an old gentleman, who is easy to faze,
Trying to understand and or appraise,
Easy, back in my earlier days,
Confusing now, my brain decays…
Facts and figures mixed, like mayonnaise!

This is clearer to me, a lot less bull,
+113.6%, well, that’s plainly plentiful!
Far too high for things to remain uneventful!
In fact, we must indeed all be very careful…
Or things can easily become more fatal!

I’m not sure why this was in the news at all?
This article is not likely to amuse or enthral?
Still, nice to see summat that’s not hard-ball,
I should welcome an item that’s not conflictual!

What is conditional bail?
Bed at a certain time?
Don’t stab anyone or impale?
Collect your dole on time?
Or eat only Wensleydale?
Don’t commit another crime?
Or is conditional bail, a dwale?

Here’s a right git who is rather unnice!
He’d drunk-driven before… Twice!
Nearly six years he got, very nice,
He was tried at Derby, didn’t apologise…
Better than the Nottingham Court guys…
They’d given him a month and free pork pies!

I can’t believe it, just two years… surely?
Our justice system is a tragi-comedy!
It defies logic and believability,
Saving money, with short sentences essentially,
Do we spend too much locking them up excessively?
Starve the gits! Forget about doing things humanely,
Or did the scumbag pretend to act demurely?

I find it hard to make a comment on this scum!

I’m sure she meant no harm at all,
By gum, she’s persistent, in for the long haul,
Though to be honest, it is only natural…
When the grandkids want drugs, avoid being conflictual,
Wanting to please young Elvis and Myrtle?

Brothers Jamil and Shakeel Amin spearheaded the group, who, in their twenties themselves, had a significant influence on young people in the city, who they were targeting since 2018. They were found to have long lists of clients, with frequent phone calls and texts relating to buying the likes of cocaine, MDMA and ketamine. Two members even bragged that they had so much money they could throw fivers ‘in the bin’, and the video of 29-year-old Shakeel Amin and 22-year-old Zain Mushtaq casting the notes aside was shown during the court case involving nine people as part of a drugs conspiracy.

I thought I’d end on a higher note, the top gang bullies got seven years each. It should have been a lot more, but with our justice magistrates and judges, it was a miracle they got seven!

Part of The Inchcock Local News Snippet Series – In Ode

Inchcock Today: Visited by Sister Jane & Hubby Pete

The spelling mistake in the header was made on purpose  – just to test you. Ahem!

Inchcock Today: Visited by Sister Jane & Hubby Pete

Gotten Himmel! Great balls of Fire! Blow me down with a feather duster! I had slept straight through, no NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee-Bucket) visits: For over six hours! The longest night with Sweet Morpheus for months – No waking up with any ailment pains… Bloody Fantastic!

Mind you, the brain was not too interested in waking up. However, it did join me later on. The Peripheral Neuropathy shakes began. The moment I got out of the £300, second-hand, c1968, eyesorely-horrendously, grungy coloured, haemorrhoid-testing, unfit-for-use, recliner, and started to hobble about. So Metal Mickey went everywhere with me as a precaution.

In the first instance, which was to the wet room to utilise the Porcelain Throne. The evacuation was the reverse of those of the last few days. Trotsky Terence had regained his advantage over the  Constipation Conrad.

Messy, gooey, and in need of cleaning up after the event. Whatever caused the red blotches under both arms is no worse, but I’ve got new growths underneath both man-breasts? Did I mention that all the underarm and chest hairs had fallen out? Well, they have!

Has anyone reading this had owt like this before? If so, a word or two of information in the comment section would be most appreciated. Being the lucky bugger, I am, I’ve spent the last three Christmases or New Year in the hospital for various reasons. I was hoping to avoid this happening this year.

But, with all the sleep I’d had, I was not too bothered. Indeed, after sorting out the mess, I did the nasal clearing, the teeth and had a shave. And that produced only two tiny nicks, despite the jerks and shakes. Though I was wary of being over-confident, I left Metal Micky close to had throughout.

I didn’t do the medicating, other than Harold’s Haemorrhoids… Oh, and another thing to cheer about – Little Inchies Fungal Lesion had not been bleeding. I found out shortly after thinking this when I stubbed my toe against the sock-glide on leaving the wet room. Argh! Is this real, or am I still asleep dreaming?

Now, time for a brew of Thomson Punjana tea. in one of the new, second-hand Bone-China mugs. No question to my mind, tea does taste so much better drinking from a Bone China mug!

I took some morning shots of the pretty clear nights, well, mornings views from the kitchenette window. Amazingly, ten minutes or so afterwards, as I was on the computer, the mist, the fog actually had fallen! But I’d beaten it today and got three decentish snaps taken. The first is a close up of the front of a house on Elmswood Gardens. (Above) It looks like part of a nativity play to me? They’ve done an excellent job of it, I reckon. The second was taken to the right of the window, the third to the left. Both are wider shots, as you can see. All have the first close-up one in them.

I pressed on with prepping for this blog. And making repeated mugs of tea, 99, Glengettie, and Thompsons Punjana. Then Saccades got a lot more blurred, and my progress was slowed down a lot.

Aha, I had just got back from taking a wee-wee, the door chime chimed, and in walked Jane and Pete!

Much was discussed, memories that I now find I can’t recall. And that is body-blow, I can tell yers. Because I always believed my long term memory was as good as ever. And that just the recent and newer stuff was getting beyond my mental capacity. But no, that is apparently no longer the situation. Worrying innit? But it came out that they had a photo of Grandma Harriet. Who, apparently had fifteen children, but she died at 59. I never knew any Grandma or Grandads; they all passed away before I was born

They even had a photo of her. Pete sent me a copy (here on the left) of the picture to my email.

You understand we were never a close-knit family. But this was a disappointment to me, that no one had ever told me her name… well, I can’t remember it happening anyway.

Jane and Pete had been to ‘Auntie’ Bobbie’s house, now mine, and will see Mary Rawson next. Another stunner, this brought back the memory of Mary’s husband, who happened to have the same operation, as I did, a week earlier than I. In the same hospital and wards in the City Hospital. But a week later, I was told by Jane that he had passed away. Such a good genuine family man, as decent as one can find… and yet do nothing me, was not taken? It made much worse when I heard he’d been taken to the Doctors, who refused to deal with him and told them to go to the hospital. He passed away en route! I’m still bitter about that.

I showed off the box of hand-made cuddlies that HRH Lisa and Billum had sent me.

The pair had a nosey look at them and sent their thanks to HRH Lisa for the loving gesture.

Hahaha! I think that Pete took a shine to ‘Crazy Fuzzy Goat’, as Christened by Lisa. I reckon Jane’s favourite was the ‘Pink Fuzzy Monster’.

Pete took a shine to my ‘Long Eared Rabbit’, so I took temptation away from him and had a chat with LE Rabbit myself. Jane was not surprised; she knew me and understood. Hahahaha!

During the hard to follow machinations and chin-wagging, I soon discovered I was overweight. Hahaha!

They got ready to leave and took the three boxes and two carrier bags of wines and pressies with them. They nearly forgot the two over jackets for Pete. I bought them two years ago, not seen them since. How Pete got them down to the car, I don’t know. I safely put my single 8oz pressie away from both of them. Pete also returned items he’s been storing for me; bless him.

Looking good our Jane, and she’s nearly a year older than I am! It must have been those early years in Sicily and those in Australia that did her good. Petes looking good too, but don’t tell him I said so.

Carer due anytime now, meal to prep, and this blog to finish and post, so I’ll be offski folks.

TTFN.

Photo’s From Tuesday – with Comments

Starting with the morning views from the kitchenette:

Morning Views

Oh, how lucky I am to have such a fantastic view!
Taken from the mini-kitchenette window,
The lights were brighter than they show here, though,
Can’t keep my hands steady enough, which makes me feel blue,
Cause of the ailments I recently did accrue,
Neuropathy, the stroke, Shaking Shaun, to name a few,
But I have done my bestest, and that is true…
Determined they would be good enough to show you…
But there you, I’ll just continue…!

Bottles For Sister Jane and Pete

Amongst them, a newly discovered brew,
Highly rated by some of the Caring crew,
Easy opening, no need for a corkscrew,
Reported back to me as, as being taboo,
It is tangy and sweeter than honeydew!

19-hr slow-cooked potatoes!

I noticed them when I but my finger,
on the hotpots side, made me whinger!
I turned it off, I didn’t malinger…
I bit a spud; it was so much tastier,
And planned a meal hastier… (well, it’s all I find to rhyme!)

My Planned Recipe!

Microwave poached Eggs Included

My hunger was not controllable,
I needed something digestible…
And made this meal, it  was more than passable,
It came out absolutely delectable!.

What a feast yet again, most desirable!
I was in my eyeholes; it smelt indescribable…
Then rangeth out the doorbell… Oh, Hell!

Twas the Amazon Delivery

And the gits left all the parcels down in the lobby again! Boy did I have problems getting them up to the flat? Yes! The scumball had left about a dozen other packages on the floor and table, for other flats, too! Not too bad for them, there was only one small box or packet for each, Mugwumph here had a few more to collect.

One hell of a job, but somehow or other I managed to get them on the walker-trolley in one go – a bit dangerous, but still. The photo was taken as I got them inside the flat door.

I knocked over the carpet cleaner freshener and burst open as I struggled to carry the goods through to the kitchenette.

Did I swear, you ask? Oh, yea!

Sorry, had an Accifauxpas, I’ll have to stop.

Isn’t life a git! Innit?