
In this Ode, I’ll not mention Starmer,
See that? I’m already a proven liar!
I’m not an activator, actuator or advocator,
Believing once Labour got in power…
It would be a poor man’s financial alleviator,
Not a disabled and pensioner aggravator!
Nor a doom and gloom annunciator,
Our future has never been bleaker,
I don’t trust the HMG, MP, PM or speaker,
Labour: experts in taking a backhander,
I could kick him up his detrusor…
Jinx or hex him; it’d be my pleasure!
My loathing gets ever deeper,
Keir’s decisions get even creepier,
Voters crumbling-hopes get damneder,
His clever use of semi-lies & implicature…
Prevents prosecution… he is a barrister!
Who freed child killers & an axe murderer,
He’s responsible for killing off many a pensioner,
Bankrupting the family farmer…
Feathering his own nest, a meshuggener?
The man is a nihilist, self-profit-seeking,
His expense claims: do they need questioning?
No doubt about it, he’s a naysayer,
He’s likely suffering from peniaphobia,
Scared to death of becoming a pauper,
With brain cells ever working, reticular,
I noticed he’s also a slangwhanger,
He’s earned an early sepulchre,
The slower & more painful, the better!
I may sound like a hard-done-to squaller,
These odes prove I’m a schlepper…
With Starmer being a snollygoster,
He commits crimes, lies & sclaunder…
He gets away with it; that’s spectacular!
That’s because he was a high-class lawyer,
The perfect con man & thimblerigger,
As a PM, naturally, he’s titular,
He got elected because he’s a liar,
Two-faced, deceitful, a conniver,
A guilty promise-breaker
An oathed decision reverser,
A farmer & pensioner depriver,
One other thing in particular,
He also got, is, uranomania!
Divinity? He believes it! Hehehe!
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It’s no good; I’m such a terrible fibber!
So, with the bum and top of the leg bleeding, I hobbled into the kitchen to check the taps and stove
I went to the wet room, where I decided to tend to the
Luckily, it had not been running too long, and the hot water was still reasonably hot enough for me to get the shaving done.
Get ready for this, folks… Dang dang, dang, Dang!
Not a single nick, let alone cut shaving!
A fair bit of medicationings was needed. But I’ve had
Cleaned the glasses. Did a hearing aid battery check. Olive oiled the earholes. Dry eye spray was used. Then, the Blepharitis gel. Phorpain gelled both of Arthur Itis’s knees. Both cartilages, Chloe & Carole, are at the back of the knees. I barrier cream
Carer Ejaz arrived. Bless him.
I told them of whatever they were last night, which left me in a time-lapse, confused and nervous.
Then, Ejaz barrier-creamed where I could not reach, mainly my feet, ankles, and back. Next, he put my diabetic socks on my feet for me.
Then he did a quick hoovering around for me. Bless him.
I got tucked into creating today’s Anti-Starmer Ode.
I was about half an hour into it, and the intercom chimed out. It was Matron. She measured me up for the wheelchair setting up. Checked my BP returns, and I waffled on about last night’s time-warping and total confusion. She reminded me to make sure I got an appointment with the Doctor. I explained that only when the Carer is on a Wednesday and Joe is prepared to go with me. Joe will remember and explain things better than I could on my own.
I think other things were discussed. Yes, Matron Jackie will ask the Doctor if I can have an oxygen level monitor. I have no idea what that actually means. I’ll look it up on Mr. Google.
Back to the Ode writing.
A series of mini-seizures came over the next few hours. Kyboshed my creativity and concentration.
Carre Joe arrived. He thinks I may have been falling asleep, which is a possibility. However, I was getting many feelings of dizziness, and my eyes seemed foggy for a few minutes, which I usually put down to my coming out of a seizure. Who knows? Not me!
I got the Ode finished and into the blog.
I went to the kitchen to ensure I’d not left anything unsafe. I put the potatoes in the dish and put them into the microwave oven.
Boy, what a view I took in these snaps of the quickly disappearing Sun. Bootiful!
I think the eyes of the Sun were
from some trees on the horizon.
GREAT!
It’s late now, and the spuds are in the oven. I’m giving up on the blog, but the meal tempts me!
Everything else was gorgeous!
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Here’s a four-leaf clover
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Seems you have to be quick to get a shot of the flashing alarm. I see Sasha made the header again. Beautiful sunsets. You are a handsome brute in sunglasses. The meal looked good.
Thanks, Tim. Keepeth safe.
Apparently he’s crowing about immigration and the english language, promoting youth and etc. I thought for a moment he was going to utter the words “Make England great again” but we were spared that ignominy. He sounds like trump at the moment and far to self-congratulatory.
You put that spot on, Paul.
He’ll have to go. PLEASE!
Now they’re comparing him to Enoch, how did Labour fall for him?
I’ve now idea, mate. It scares me, though.
You look good with your sunglasses on, Jerry. The sky photos are great! The food looks good. Have a good night’s sleep.
Msrci Mon Ami, Tim. 👍🏻💚🙏🏻