Inchcock’s Local News Snippets – Part 691⅑

A bit close for comfort this one,

We’ll Start with some BBC Midland News shots that I took with the Canon Camera while fighting off sleep watching the TV

You’ll notice my cock-up here, I suppose? Well, I nodded off for a few seconds and it moved onto National news… Tsk!

This is worrying news. Although I’m no Royalist, the Queen has gone through so much lately. Hope she’s going on alright.

And why have they printed Sherwood in a different font and colour, I ask? Are we the highest area of Nottinghamshire for Covid infections? I’ll do some investigationing here… Back soon…

Oh, it seems we are the second-worst, in Nottinghamshire, and Nottingham the worst in the country.

According to another page on the same magazine, Nottingham is 32.5% down vs last week? Mind you, I keep hearing that someone here at the flats has gone down with it. Mmm?

You’ll be pleased to know, that my record at getting close to a win on the find the three houses competition, is still safe. Humph!

Ah, Nottingham will get it now, if this forecast is right, we’re smack in the middle of the blue!.

Aha, a bit of news about what Nottingham is good at – Crime!

.

My fears for the youth of today,
Even those studying, academically,
Those on drugs, acting absurdly,
Using weapons, even hairspray…
With no care for others, empathy…
Back in the day, I could have been me!
But we can’t deny, there’s a moral decay…
Too many are acting aggressively,
Me, me, me… greed and banality…
But even I should be examined really…
Psychologically and clinicopathologically!

.

I stay worried for the next generation, criminologically,
I don’t want to talk of them disdainfully…
But when they act so disgracefully, antagonistically…
Do you ever see a teenager nowadays, looking bashfully?
Mostly they act leery and bombastically…

It the few who have manners and good nature,
Prepared to work in manufacturing or agriculture…
To earn a living, to give others pain a suture!
Not expect things for free, think crime, no bother!
They deserve a much better future…
I pray they can become caring, and uncouther…
Avoid the urge to shoplift, become a druggie and loafer!
Have a kid, and make him her into a goffer!

.

The lock-Down, get the blame for many a thing,
Lawyers mitigate this, over knifings and shop-lifting,
Arson, stealing, mugging, fighting, and brawling…
GBH, supplying of drugs, even dangerous driving…
It’s likely that some solicitor blames it for farting!

.

It’s had its fair share of crime, had this tram stop,
In the 1890s it was the original tram stop…
I remember when it was a Trolleybus stop,
Then back to an omnibus stop…
Now its become a criminal-loving tram stop

At this bus stop, I fell off a trolleybus, did a belly flop…
The reason as I recall was beer… more than a drop,
In those days I was an addict, a drunken sop!
So it didn’t hurt, got up feeling right tip-top…
And bought some Guinness from a nearby shop!

Years later at this bus stop, I wasn’t feeling well, I’d got the flu,
Getting on the bus, missed the platform, what a hullabaloo!
Conductors in those days, in fact, he was my nephew…
A big cheery lad, he laughed so much did Stew…
He said; If I want a laugh, I can rely on you!

.

When did cowardly replace guts in folks?
Fights used to be one on one twixt blokes?
Fists alone, and a handshake after…
Begrudgingly, but forgot about later,
No guns, knives or roving gangs were seen…
Being a coward, on fighting, I’m not so keen…
Any action, you’ll see me fleeing!.

.

A warning of a third storm coming today, Franklin!
But is this warning, just bumfuzzling?
Some are saying it came from Beijing,
But that’s just silly gossiping,
Many places had it a lot worse, with flooding,
So that’s enough of my caterwauling!!

This below is so sad. I’ll stop…

NOTHING CAN BRING BACK THESE ANGELS

Rest In Peace

23 thoughts on “Inchcock’s Local News Snippets – Part 691⅑

  1. Better numbers and holding steady, full speed ahead, or maybe not. Memories of olde abodes and same olde roof above. We celebrate a birthday what falls on that curious concatenation of numberings: 2/22/2022, only that nothing of a number zero, naught to say.
    Speaking of Codeine, called my pain center and heard the message, facility closed…but not to reopen for the 3000 clients such as myself. Message went on to state that a hearing on court was scheduled for a day in March. It doth appear that the principal owner of the business was having another owner write prescriptions for the same stuff I take for the crohn’s, but for the amount of 24 tablets per day. Not a single word of advice for blokes like me.
    But back to Esther who doesn’t let many answers enter, going on about owt and nowt, mostly nowt. Very fine photomagraphicals produced there, mate.
    The nosh did appear of a magnitude too largish, or too smallish if yer feeding the entire building.
    Herbert is ever at it, innit so? Yes, it is stateth Billum from his expansive lab, I need to search my many vials of chemicals to make me own bloody pain nodules. Harumphinations and Glomifications!!!

  2. Criminals arriving at an early age, most disconcerting and sad. Hitting a cab driver, then stealing his bloody phone. Impudent louts who will listen to one but their own cheekish youths. When I was of that age, a perfect stranger would stop such stuff immediately. Now we have kids borrowing assault rifles from their parents, and not for show and tell. What a world!

    • I share your despair my friend, the future is sonewhere I’m not be sorry to miss. Hope HRH is doiing okay. Will you be able to sort out the Humira now you’ve got bother with rhe medical team? Please you can! ♥

      • An odd bit of good fortune to know that a grimmer world will occur after whatever happens to us after our collective hearts stop. Something to be optimistic about? I guess so, but we are not sought by the powers that be for our thoughts on the future.
        An interesting about the Humira: while all these dermatological concerns continue — mostly without a solution — my Crohn’s has quieted considerably, even while not having an injection for multiple weeks now. What gives with that? Perhaps the ointments being slathered twice a day is somehow reducing the Crohn’s that has followed me since 1975. Hoping that continues, but Crohn’s is some strange stuff. Say, maybe it will decide that it needs to retire. Haha!!

      • Hello there, Sire Billum.
        Do you recall the; “The End is Nigh” street walkers? With a ‘Bill’board over their shoulders? Hehehe!
        short Ode:
        Billum suffer with a lot, including Crohn’s,
        And does it with very few moans,
        Assisted by HRH Lisa, he’s not alone…
        She’s sorting Doctors on the phone…
        On-off bother, makes the lad groan,
        You would not know, my his verbal tone…
        The pain is agony, then it has flown,
        Mysteries, confusion, comes with having Crohn’s!
        To have a retireation of Crohn’s… What a thought!
        Cheers, Sir!

      • Hello there, Sire Inch.
        Well do I recall those last-hour announcements on days of reckoning, a meme that has been around far longer than the word “meme”. Most of the proclaimers sport long and full beards, the good thing is that we get to larf about every warning. Very sad goings on in the bread-basket of Mother Russia. Putin the Poisoner is without a single redeeming moral value but replete with their each and every opposite. Otherwise, he is a capital bloke . What a joke.
        Lisa performs wonders and with a deft touch.
        And what can I add about Crohn’s. It was named after the guy who discovered it. I think I was the first one to get it. Enough reiterations sayeth Billum.!

      • Managed to raise another smile there, Billum, I fanks you!
        Putin pukes at the world politicians, and on the innocent. He puts Hitler to shame in the murdering stakes… but not Stalin… yet, for ridding the world of more Russians than all his enemies put together. Putin may be planning to break that record.
        I am at this moment getting odd noises from above? Sounds like an out of tune owl? Just thought I’d mention it, Bill.
        I had a visitation today… from Jillie. She is so like I imagine HRH Lisa to be. (Without the HRH of course!) A precious treasure without doubt, Sir. A comfort as well methinks?
        A Mr Crohns on Facebook, says: “My goal is to educate & support those suffering with chronic illness” Worth a peep? Google Mr Crohns. I shall have a look tommorow, or Sunday whichever comes first.
        Iterations… had to look that up.
        As thickos go, they don’t come much thicker than I. Hehehe!

      • Stalin would be proud of successor Putin, though Mr. P has a long way to go if he wishes to break Uncle Joe’s record death count. I know the sound of Lisa’s avatar Gretel, but Gretel is always in perfect tone and pitch and… A grand compliment to Jillie: being compared to HRH Lisa is overwhelming grand. A hurrah for Jillie and for HRH Lisa. I had not known that a Mr. Crohns existed on FB, it is a bit too late to go Facebooking at this hour (12:33 A.M.), but my research gene wants to check him out after the sun rises, usually in the East, but I shall let you know if it rises in the West. Now *that* would be a world-shaking event, eclipsing (a fun pun) Putin on the news scene. Sunday is pushing on an hour old at this time, Lisa appears to be sleeping, a rare event for the wee hours.
        Iterations is a great word that is used frequently among computer programmers such as my very self. You command the computer to do a certain number of loops until some event occurs, then you see which rabbit hole the program wants your computer to enter — not the official definition, but it works for me.
        A point of pride then, being a top-rated thicko. I have been known by less vaunting (of a boasting manner) names. 🙂
        Well, here we are in the world of Sundays. Hope yours is at least decent. Hoping that :Putin decides to change his ways, whether in a vaunting manner or not.
        Cheerios to you, Kind Sir!

      • Good Sunday, Sire, Billum.
        The gasconading Putchin… Putin; His actions scare me. Does he want a final world war? Last year he was boasting “Than if any country attacked Russia, he would retaliate with every means available…” Now he is attacking… Oh, dear.
        The next strain of life may by nuclear bugs as we start again, from scratch.
        HRH is undoubtably the Queen pin!
        That makes you, the King Pin?
        Rightly so, too!
        Best of wishes for all, in owt you do…
        I hope Josie likes her pork chili stew,
        Now the need for the Porcelain THrone is due!
        Educationally, I haven’t a clue…
        Thanks for being you!

  3. Gasconading is a new word for me, I like learning new words and then see what they are in German flavor. Putin does enjoy gasconading (Praherlei). WordPress recognizes neither. George Orwell, one of my favorite authors, would have described Putin in the clearest and most worrying way. Here is how Mr. Orwell described the matter in his 1984:

    “If you want a vision of the future, imagine a boot stamping on a human face – forever.”

    I’ve seen that quote recently, I wonder if Putchin has read it, and became inspired to see it through as best he can.
    Fang you for the kind PIN compliment.
    At least your throne is not gold, as they are in Mr. T’s lavatory.
    And thanks to you for being you!

      • Prahlerei sprüche: weist du, ich habe so veil Geld, ich musste engentlich nicht mehr arbeiten. (A lie, just an example, Hehehe!)
        Mayhaps linked to one of my Smug-Modes?
        Mistakes? Look at Hitler, attacking Russia – it’ll happen again if we attack them.
        You are not human if you don’t make Fehleren? (Likely I’ve spelt that wrong too, just a mistake), Har-har!
        Chhers top all! 💛

      • Mispellings are fun, adding a couple zeroes to a bank-deposit slip is also a mere mistake that could make your account look better simply by adding nothing and then another nothing.
        Hitler was on his way out after Stalingrad — and appropriately named city. Afghanistan is also a bad invasion idea, as both the US and GB learned. And never start a land war in Asia, just a suggestion that I offer free of charge.
        Only thing wrong with Fehleren: drop the “en” and you’ll arrive at the singular *and* plural.
        Cheers on a Monday evening to all at Woodthorpe and vicinity. 🙂

    • Pucking scares the hell out of me, those poor innocent victims.
      Mr Orwell mayhaps saw the reality everyone else ignored, it?
      Haha! Oddly enough, no joking, I spet aboput an hour on the Throne this morning?!? Rock solid! Agony! Stll, you don’t like to complain does yer… Haha!
      Thanks for the wit sneaked into the commenting, mate, Sire and jolly good egg! 💚

      • They can’t seem to get a break there, can they? I’ve read that it’s best to pronounce the capital city of Ukraine as Keev, it is how they pronounce it. And the Russians pronounce it “Key Ev” so there you have it. I do not think that solves the political problem however, back to the laboratory with me then.
        Orwell was quite a farsighted guy, he knew his stuff. Trivia question: did you know that Orwell arrived at the title 1984 by transposing the last two numbers of the year the book was written: 1948. Now you can take that information to the bank and become a rich bloke.
        I know about the hour spent upon the Throne when things get solid at the exit. Happens when I eat stuff like peanuts and take an anti-diareheal medication. Sent me to emergency room once, so I am now an authority.
        I always like to insert a wit or two in my writing. My grandfather, Albert Witte, would often note that his sense of humor stemmed from his surname. He did make good jokes. Once, when clearing a sewage backup and putting the stuff in a big pot, announced that he was giving it to our grandmother as a base for the soup we were about to have at table.
        Speaking of eggs, Ukrainian Easter eggs are amazingly beautiful wonders, don’t know a thing about Russian Easter eggs though.

      • That laboratory of yours is getting a bshing, mate, Hahaha!
        I knew an Albert Whitty once, in the ROAB. He was great with the one liners and come-backs, as I recall. An elderly gent, full of ready it and gentle sarcasm. As opposed to Mr Mucking… Albert stiopped the lodge for a moment, and got me up to the rostrum, and gave a mini-lecture on how good I been to te lodge? Then… we’ve decided to give you a free drink, as you deserve it Brother Gerald… and put a tea bag in my top pocket! The lads who by then were falling asleep at the speech with boredom, burst into laughter. Hahaha!
        I liked him, old Albert. See, another memory triggered by you commentskis! For which I fanketh you!

      • Laboratories work best when bashed, mate.
        The spelling is off but the RAOB (Royal Antediluvian Order of Buffaloes) is new to me. Actually, most thing are new to me. I hope the flood did not hurt the buffaloes too terribly. Our buffaloes suffered from all the indiscriminate shootings brought about when the railroads went through their habitat. I looked up ROAB to learn about their ways and to become familiar with you friends who have names similar to Albert Witte. He is from my mother’s side of the family and his grave is in the cemetery that parallel our street. I also noted that the motto is *Nemo Mortalium Omnibus Horis Sapit*. Now there is a fine bit of researchery.
        That was quite the drink, one in your top pocket, I need to tell HRH about that experience.
        It is my pleasure to bring a treasured memory to the surface. Memories are the best, and unfortunately the worst, things that we carry about, of course.
        You are welcometh, Sir!

      • Hi, there, Pardner! I don’t know why I wrote that?
        Thanks for anuvver few larfs, delivered via the ether, Sir.
        Part of the ceremony, when one gets upgraded to Worthy Primo in the buffs, offers an insight for lesser buffalos who don’t speaketh Latin, if I recall correctly it says; Nemo Mortallium Omnibus Horis Spit, and ocntinue; Roughly translated as No man is at all hours wise. Well, whoever came up with that, must have as drunk as we were. Hahaha!
        We did have one honour bestowed up our little Lodge, we raised more money for charity than any of the (then) 124 other minor lodges in Nottinghamshire, for two years running. The third year, we lost out stalwart, Cliff Housley. We faded then, and broke up in the end. I could not go join another lodge, cause the mempries of our Friday night fun, laughter and hard work, I think, couldn’t be replaced. So I never went again. A grand chap Cliff was, ex-policeman. I waffled on there, Bill, sorry. You, memory stirrer, you. Hehe!
        Sweet dreams to Lisa and your worthy self Sire.

      • Pardner is a fine way to begin any email, it is better than F OFF MOFO. Just elucidating, of course.
        Memories such as those Friday rollicks can ne’er be warmed leftovers, as you well describe the dynamic. Yes Sir, indeed.
        Being at the top in giving to charity does make the smaller amounts seem disproportionately large by mere comparison.
        When a student in Giessen, West Germany from 71 to 73, English, German, Icelandic… would speak all sorts of languages and get a wee bit (translation: a lot) of Bier. None of us had cars but a student pass for the bus was cheap. I hitchhiked in the UK from Pinner to Bath. Pinner turned out to be the hometown of Elton John, small world stuff. I got a ride from a lorry driver to Salisbury and Stonehenge. The stones were smaller than I thought and the graffiti was not in original Saxon. The driver wanted a good chinwag and I provided a constant nodding noggin like a bobble head because I did not understand a single word for the entire 30 minutes of wagging. That were fun!
        Sweet dreams to you and everybody in the Ham of Notting 🙂

      • You little gad-about, Billum! Lovely tales from the unexpected mode. Hahaha!
        Your drivers chinwagging reminds me of Esther. She called in with the new mop and bucket, spoke non stop, and all heard was at the end as she left after not doing nay housework… Byeee! You can’t get a word in to tell you can’t hear or understand her!
        Thanks gpt the gen, you know I like it.
        Cheers, Sire and HRH Sireress, oh, and lad and furries. X

  4. Those were magical times, I just observed that we are wagging chins at stuff that happened half a century ago. I seriously considered staying in Germany. Lisa and I still talk about going there, my nephew and his wife live in Berlin and we have an open invitation to visit. It is also quite close to the city of kind (and not so kind) Nottinghamians, Now there is a good idea. Indeed.
    Cheers to you, kind cocker.

    • Dear Lesser-Red-Spotted Professor Pugglesworthy, the elderly chap who lives here, would dream of such a set of circcumstances that might provide a collusion of verbalisticals and hugs!

      • Indeed it is so. Lisa had spent another Sweet-Morphean night and was awake for the excellent meet with a new doctor of all things skin related. The good doctor took a biopsy, just to keep me anxiously worrying for a week. Lisa was able to explain the history of red-spots-not-found on Jupiter, something that transcended my mis-hearings and miscommunications that my deaf ways complicate. So we’ve another cream to apply and a hope that it disappears one day in March, perhaps by the Ides. Shakespeare would have written just the right words.
        Pugglesworthy is a right proper appellation.
        Good words to you, mate!

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