Fings I read, that triggered the memory!

Wednesday 8th December 2021

Fings I read, sometimes those I view…
Glaringly show a change in my milieu,
Viciousness, cruelty and lack of virtue,
Growing greed, drugs, alcohol, always in need,
I do some little Odes to go with each preview,
I’ll have to set myself a curfew…

For I’ve a lot of things, I have to do…
I don’t want to run late, causing a hullabaloo!
Shortly to the dentist, I’ll have to go…
I’m not scared or nervous, oh, no. No…
No sweat or nervousness from me does flow…
I shall keep calm, steady as I go…
Any falling of tears, I’ll stop; I know,
Ah, now I’ll have to stop in mid-flow…
For wandering off the topic, I did go!
I sense brewing up within me, a foggy mind fiasco!

Spotted on BBC Site!

Where they got the forty times from, I know not,
It was now more than a dozen, but that’s enough, what?
After clarificationing, the women officers were rather hot…
I thought, on one occasion, a taser would be shot!
Each raid increased my usage of the chamber pot,
But they did give me a food parcel, quite a lot,
Gin, biscuits, steak, turkey, crisps and whatnot,
For my not being a moaning fusspot?

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Sense of Humours Demise!

This brought back into my damaged mind…
A time when folks were more pleasant and kind,
Jokes at others expense… but no one gained?
Our sense of humour still remained…
Now the PC brigade is unrestrained…
The worlds do righters; are they all unsained?
It’s easier in this world to be scatterbrained,
As the compassion and empathy are slowly drained!

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Opticians

Like Doctors and dentists alike,
They now wish patients would take a hike!
Coronavirus, now Omicron with its recent spike…
People out without masks on, buying up the Nike,
Christmas contact, so virus spreading – Crikey

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NHS Maintain Some Humour!

The standard or garden employees of the NHS,
Well, I thank them all, Heaven thank them, and bless!
Mistreated, the Politician pay them a rise, a pittance!
These expense-fiddlers live in several houses, all chandeliered!
Well, it’s time that the righteous mutineered…
Then strikers would be genuinely feared…
But the NHS staff will not – though their hopes are withered…
Will the MPS stop fiddling if they are ever sobered?
Will Nurses etc., continue to get backstabbed?
Will the NHS staff stop getting clobbered?
Will MP’s ever stop getting bribed?
Do they still get free drinks, thus get imbibed?
The Virus … Has anyone checked…
With whom the MPs are necking!
No Expense Form Claim checking!

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The Law

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Laughter!

The old folk, most of them have still got the oomph!
To laugh at themselves and be a little pottymouth,
Edinborough, Manchester and Portsmouth…
To Weymouth, Nottingham and Yarmouth…
Political Correctness? They’ve had enough!
Try telling them what to do – they’re pretty tough!.

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Nottingham!

Not a lot of folk in Nottingham are aristocratic,
They are famed for being somewhat autocratic!
Shoplifters, druggies, muggers, old uns arthritic…
ATM con artists, a few have jobs, some even autistic…
Alcoholics, Methodists, Atheists, and Catholic,
Muslims aplenty, we house them after taking them in…
But no complaints from me, for me it’s a win-win!
Apart from the Escooterers, they are a danger and chaotic,
Students from afar, all corners of the globe, some are Balearic!
Without them, life would be quiet, not hectic,

I’ll stop now; I’ve got to take my diuretic,
Got carers coming to dose me? It’s pathetic!
But, that’s me, the human Guinea pig, innit?
Then I have to shower, change of clothes, be contortionistic,
Frustrating, but I don’t get apoplectic or dramatic…
If I shave without cutting myself, I think that’s cosmic,
Lousy Ode today… the whole this is diabolic…
I’m off then, radio, later on, the Barnsley philharmonic.

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Well, I got that wrong, but happily so,
It was Brass Band music, great, kiddo!
Blidworth Welfare Brass Band, too,
They were good, credit where it’s due…
They played absolutely excellent. Yahoo!

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Early December 2021: Local News Snippets – With Sarcastic comments

This semi-political Local News Snippets Report,
Is unsuitable for any laughter-unliking spoilsport,
But suitable for anyone liking jolly fun and rapport!
With comments that offer humour in their retort…
This way, cause Inchies taking Morphine and Ocu-Cort®,
With Prednisone® and Methylprednisolone in support…
I must remind him of his next visit to court!

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Local News Snippets…

Well, not good news to view,
Wearing a face mask… are you?
We’ve been told that we should do!
No? Well, then you bloody-well ought to!

New cases in Nottingham. The last 7 days is 1305!
How many of them in a week will still be alive?
Not wearing a mask? How many lives will you deprive?
By permitting the new Omicron bug to thrive?
Anti-maskers?… Time for firmer punishments to arrive!

Seems to me that Tories defunding the Constabulary,
And increasing the pretend policemen auxiliary…
Has increased the amounts of muggings and burglary,
And their success in convictions has dropped, similarly,
By their softly-softly approach and being conciliary,
And poor Ethsham Ul Hag Ghafoor’s heartbroken family

Has owt gone more warped, diseased than Joe Public?
Shoplifting, driving with no insurance, licence, dogmatic?
More murders, stabbings, muggins, they go at it,
Youngsters mope around, cunningly looking apathetic,
More morons on, than off drugs, and antisemitic,
Yet ready to fight anyone else who’s anti-Islamic?
Gobby, and leery to the point of being semantic,
Yet they unhappily don’t stop acting demagogic?
No desires to learn and be semasiologic,
They take any drug they can steal, but just a tick…
They could get from, say, mushrooms a similar kick?
And get them free from the wood – the type that is magic!

I know I don’t get out much nowadays,
And when I do, I get the shakes and mind haze,
Or fall over and put me in a daze…
For months now, and this may amaze…
I’ve not seen a uniformed policeman in over 120 days!

Shithead!

The gal was just going for some milk & bread,
But she had to meet with this druggy instead!
Who bashed her about her head…
Threatened her with a knife, it’s been accredited…
Said he’d burn her face, that already bled…
He should be taken quietly to an allotment shed…
And hopefully, they’ll find his mangled body later – Dead!

I thought wearing a mask was to prevent you from passing it on?
But who knows with this new Corona strain, Omicron?
To me, it’s sensible to put a facemask on?
Has all compassion and caring now gone?
It matters not where it came from, China, Africa or Saigon…
Proof again, humans have less compassion than a Klingon!

This one (Statement) must have taken a lot of working out,
I imagined they would come up with some cringing words…
Two days it took the get it out…
This is what they said…

Shit, I can’t find it now! That wasn’t the statement, Hehehe!

Well, well, well!

Did you see that they used a photo of two Police Officers…
In Nottingham? Note he is wearing short sleeves? It must have been summer when they took this photograph. Cause, apart from when the Muslims, Black Lives Matter, Anti-Face maskers, National Front (UK), Student Demands, and any other protest group are protesting in Nottingham. I have not seen any officers for months now in the City Centre. Plenty of shoplifters, muggers, beggars, rough sleepers and the likes, though.

And I’ve got appointments not to be missed…
The Doctors, I mustn’t get a brain-fog, for the phlebotomist,
Then I’ve to go for my virus booster at the local chemist,
Got some forms to fill in with the Doctors receptionist…
Ah, and the scary, gonna hurt a lot visit to the Dentist!
Make an appointment about the Saccades at the optometrist,
January, the Deep Vein Thrombosis, and the cardiologist!…

The Nottingham Lads News Snippets in Ode Series

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Late Extra! Read All Abarght it!

This could happen to anyone…
Shaving and getting bloody kneed,
Peripheral Pete’s fault; Is that agreed?
Well, I dropped a razor, grabbed at it…
Never mind, you wouldn’t have believed…
The mess I got in, bloody indeed…
It’s a new body and brain that I need!

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Wot Me Worried?

I recall that my school imitational educating…
It was, well, a survival course; it was nerve-wracking!
A beating up, or a teacher’s desires, ever-lurking…
The fear, anxiety, never perpetuating, eradicating…
Not allowed, any anti-gang nitpicking or narking,
Always got caught doing wrong and got a rollicking!
There was very little joy or merrymaking!

I tried to avoid the gangs and did no twocking,
But Mum found things to go in my Christmas stocking,
Mostly it was shop-lifted, stolen or Godforsaken,
I would have liked to have gone backpacking…
But the police kept bringing Mother back in,
Thank heavens she was not into stockbroking!
Police bought me food at Christmas – Gobsmacking!

My youth? Complicated; Mam, if at home and Dad fighting,
No pennies to put in the meter for lighting…
When Mam ran away, with the police pursuing,
I made the breakfast and evening meal, no fricasseeing…
Nor fondueing! A frying pan or saucepan was all I was using!
No baking cakes or meat stew, but I was good at brewing!
Any desserts were a jelly, soft, no fridge, or a can of rice pudding,
The washing and cleaning, getting the bath sorted, I was doing.

No complaints from me felt I was wanted, that was rewarding,
Proud I was; I thought that bit was worth recording,
No time for rollerskating, trolley-boarding, or reading!
And no point in my moping, moaning or memory eroding,
Brush and dustpan, no machine, so no vacuuming!
I just pressed on, no time to worry about anything…
That came later; looking back, my good luck was very thin!
But at the time, it had to be done, so I took it on the chin…
Dad had a decent left hook when he’d been on the gin!
If guzzling Shipstone Strong, it could be a bullwhipping!

I did later get to go with the Army Cadets, out camping…
For three days, the weather was wet and worsening…
I enjoyed it, it was great mate… I lie; I was witwantoning!
Everyone was was pissed-off and whining…
I got back, soaked, weary and had food poisoning!
Dad: About time, get the cleaning up done, then luncheoning!

Wrote fur the Inchcocks True Tales of Woe Series

Ode: Inchcock’s First Dance Hall Visit

After trying out ballroom dancing at the Youth Social Centre and being told by one well built, highly desirable busty young lady: “Your dancing reminded me of a pregnant rhinoceros that, with three legs, suffered from an overindulgence of alcohol!” I stopped.

Then, off to the Youth Club, and tried my hand at Jiving. When! More my style, although I was a total failure and spent far too much time picking myself up from the floor and getting an elbow or fist in the face, I also had to give that up. After I was banned from the Youth Club for accidentally putting Sandra’s shoulder out.

Then, it arrived – The Twist!

The current girlfriend was not a fan of the twist at all. And became an un-girlfriend. Sob! But being a romantic, look-at-me-go type of young lad, I’d already had my eye on Margaret, a locally-bred gal, and love of the twist brought us together. She was a couple of years older than I, and the Locarno Dance Hall was the first to be holding a dedicated Twist only night. So we arranged to visit.

Expensive mind you; 2/6d (12½d) to get in. But, I was determined to show off my ‘Twisting skills’, So enthusiastically practised and honed, to what I thought was perfection, in my bedroom for many an hour into the night. This was my chance to impress!

Queuing Up To Get In

We whippersnappers queued early on in the night,
The mood was good; nobody wanted to fight,
No talking back then, of gigabyte, megabyte, or terabyte,
No mobile phones or headphones were in sight…
Time for the doors to be opened, I was uptight;
Margaret hadn’t turned up… still, my chance for the limelight?

Searching Out A Partner!

I got in, and was cool, as they played ‘Twist and Shout’,
Time to have a decker around and pick a girl out…
I found one; she was over six feet and rather stout…
But I went over to try my best lines out…
Her breath smelt of Vodka and brussels sprout,
But her bosom swelled as I got my wallet out…
We were soon on the dancefloor for a workout!

I was enjoying that…

The gal and I did jive, had a jolly good shakeout,
The bouncer came over, and said ‘It’s Twist night!’
I said, well, it doesn’t matter nowt!
He hit me and threw me out!

I was a bit disappointed…

I felt a proper fool; the gal stayed behind, sacre bleu!
I legged it home miserable and made a brew…
Had some leftover rabbit stew…
Two bottles of Guinness too…
Then I had to spew…
That was the end of Twisting debut…

Part of the Inchcock Memories in Ode Series

Inchcock’s Ode To Maintaining One’s Sanity – Part 4⅓

Alto-Ego apologies for the crudity of his introduction. But he lost this mornings argument with Inchcock, about whether they should get up early (03:30hrs) this morning to get this Ode done. He lost!

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Inchcock’s Ode – Violence

Sometimes, one would like apanthropinisation,
The world is going crazy, every single nation!
I no longer have any paid occupation…
Of course, this does mean less oppression,
I’m coping with the still rampant tellurians aggression,
Muslim, Christians, Catholics, Jews and Caucasians!
Black Death, now the fearful Coronavirus infection…
My neighbours tell me it was sent by the Martians?
NASA say on Mars, there is not even any vegetation,
Can we please have some verification?

I got carried away!

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Inchies’ Ode Verse 2 – Rudeness

Why do not Scooters & Cyclists show no care or empathy?
With pedestrians who are disabled, wobbly and elderly?
I’ve had three of them, two scooters and a cyclist, run into me!
Leaving me shaken up. Once with bleeding arthritic knee!
All just carried on, after looking at me all bolshie!
Now, when I can get out, I’m worried and do it nervously!
Cars parked on pavements, I have to hobble into the road, you see…
Passing drivers shake their first, and get all honky!
The language they use is curse worded defamatorily!
Doctors to visit, booster too, I hope it’s not snowy and windy!

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Inchies Ode Verse 3 – Wanting a Pee!

The state I get into, just taking a wee, bladder in contortion!
It either slowly builds up pressure, as if it wants an ovation?
Giving out pain is the bladders main occupation,
A trickle, sharp stabbing, then give Little Inchie some vilification,
Other times, things burst out, all at the bladders own volition!
Then, maybe it’ll start and die off, come again, utter vacillation,
The only thing guaranteed, is that I pee with great trepidation!

Ode Verse 4 – Hoping Sanity Returns

I make excuses for feeling depressed, like, I’m poorly & sick,
Too many ailments to cope with, that characteristic,
I may have a toothache, or feel a smidge asthmatic?
Always present, are the ailments that are arthritic,
And when Peripheral Neuropathy Pete goes ballistic,
Always a danger of a tumble, of them my fear is authentic,
When the memory goes, or things diabetic…
They are accepted easier, somehow not so dramatic?
Duodenal Donald, they tell me can be fatalistic,
What can’t? I’m going to stop being so idiotic…
Acting like a deranged lunatic… well I am, also nihilistic!
I’m not over-energetic, overenthusiastic, or over-optimistic,
Perhaps, I’m psychokinetic, psychoneurotic, even phlegmatic?
But I don’t know what they mean, me being simplistic…
Although the moments of semi-contentment are spasmodic,
So, being a foodaholic, into the fridge I’ll have a frolic!

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Part of Inchcock’s Make ‘Em Laugh Series

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Inchcock’s Tips & Advice – Part 3

Ordering Food From Sainsbury’s

A risky business if you forget to tick the No-Substitute button on each item ordered. Their best foul-up was substituting a Milk Roll loaf of bread with pikelets. Their worst, and mostly unrelated to the thing ordered, was when I ordered a bottle of disinfectant, and they issued me with a pot of brown shoe polish! The most hilariously opposite was when I ordered Marmite Biscuits, and they sent a box of iced lollies? But with supposedly suitable substitutes from Sainsbury’s record, it’s better to have nothing than something you cannot use or do not like or want!

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Questionnaires Letters Official Bumph!

Ah, there will be much of this. All of differing nature, from accusative, mock-caring related, but mainly of a financial nature. Then the circulars, cunningly disguised to look like officialdom paperwork to confuse and con. Plus, of course, notifications of increases in rent, carers fees, reduction in bank interest, medical appointment, debt chasers, and the odd birthday card.

Nottingham City Council Fairer Charging Team, Nottingham Revenues and Benefits Team. Financial Assessment for Social Care Services

Since Coronavirus, thus anticipated to continue forever, are the telephone interviews and questionnaires. Last week, I got a call telling me they would ring me later in the week to fill in a detailed form from the… I love the length of this title… The Nottingham City Council Fairer Charging Team, Nottingham Revenues and Benefits Team. Financial Assessment for Social Care Services. The chap had a clear voice on the phone, so I caught most of what he said. He would ring on Wednesday at a specific time, and we might be on the phone for a while as the questionnaire was several A4 pages long.

Come Wednesday, a different man rang as promised. We started the Q & A’s. Talk about detailed: we were on the phone for over two and a half hours! Mind you, I did have to stop twice, for a wee-wee. (You’ll find this a problem in your dotage!) Bank details taken? All my ailments were requested, with the effects they cause me, in particular. There are so many, I must have missed some off. I wondered at one time if I should have mentioned the pustules and boils on my bum, but I didn’t bother.

After so long using the phone, Colin Cramps came on in the left hand and fingers. I had to swap to use the right hand, which has Peripheral Neuropathy and is affected by the Stroke. This gave me more pain and hassle, I dropped the phone and got the shakes, and the right knee got a sudden jerk as Peripheral Pete started jerking and jumping, which I thought had broken my patella! All the time, considering what the interviewer must be thinking is going on! I had to stop again. to take a painkiller.

Finally, all done, I was a physical and mental wreck!

Something you whippersnappers might keep in mind for your future mind’s delving into senility. Not an easy thought, I know.

I’ve not heard any reply yet.

DWP Department of Work and Pensions, Disability and Carers Services Charging Team

We may write to your doctor or someone else who can tell us how your disability arrests you.
We may arrange for a doctor to examine you
We may write to you asking for more information
We may arrange for someone from your local Social Security office to come and investigate you.

To me, this blast out a message: You fiddling lying old git! No chance! You can whistle for any financial help from us.

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Waking Up!

Firstly, according to how the Whoopsiedangleplops, Accifauxpas and Hassle-Stakes are going at the time, you will either be glad you have woken up again or wish you hadn’t!

Above is an indication of how you will feel as you slowly grasp, work out, or guess at what day and the time it is. The split in your reaction will be about 60/40 in favour of depression!

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Medicationalistalisationings

It seems that Vascula Dementia Doris (Who will undoubtedly visit many current Whippersnappers in their old age) had been causing me to get the taking of the medication all wrong. And I’d got into a bit of a mess with it. The Social Services supplied me with Carers, AM and PM, to sort and control my medicines. This has not been the success that I’d hoped it would be… Humph!

I’ve been having the carers call for about two months now. Last week was the fifth time that no one arrived. Not so bad during the week, cause I can get help to call them, and someone in charge will be on site. Which I’ve done four times now.

On one occasion, on a Saturday with no one in the Winwood Court Meridian office, I rang the number and got a central control room, wherever that is. The gentleman (I use the term loosely), answering, got annoyed at my not hearing what he said, and I was stuttering a little, which seemed to bother him somewhat. But someone did arrive shortly after and sorted the medications. But why did they not get in touch on any of the occasions to let me know? I was just told that someone failed to turn up?

Rather annoying, and this meant taking the tablets so much later. Which on one occasion was six hours late, by which time I was in severe pain with Duodenal Donald because the Omeprazole had not been taken! Also, every prescription package from the chemist has had a problem with it. Being late, no Codeines sent, the wrong Peptac… on and on it goes. If the charges go up, or when, I shall have to be vehement in my complaints cause nothing has changed.

Be aware of these problems, Whippersnappers!

Self-Administered Subcutaneous Injections

As you young-uns get older, there is a good chance of you having ticker problems. By-pass, Aorta Valve replacement, DVT (Deep Vein Thrombosis etc. Of course, I have been blessed with them all.

In my case, subcutaneous injections are infrequently needed. Only when the INR level gets below 1.0, but it has to be kept in stock just in case, as it could be a lifesaver. Two injections, twice a day. Along with increased Warfarins for a few days, whatever is instructed to me by the Haematology, DVT Clinic at the Queen’s Hospital.

It helps a lot if your chemist supplies hypodermics with needles that are unbent. My chemist is very good at sending them to me (picture above). As well as wrong items on the prescription, missing them off altogether, and failing to deliver them. Who is it?

Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Road, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA, near the launderette and pub, is near the ignorant staffed Lidl store. Telephone: 0115 960 5453. Be wary!

Subconjunctival haemorrhaging Eyes

These add colour and depth to your good looks!

Perhaps! Hehe!

Part of the Inchcock Advice & Tips Series

More To Follow folks

Inchcocks Monday’s Mental Meanderings

Mr Unfair

With him, you’ll not be able to communicate…
At any time disaster, Accifauxpas, you have to wait…
He’ll hit you anytime or where your life he can decimate!
His murderous, clever skills, I’d like to cremate…
But he’s not real, so he’ll carry on brutally, as usual, mate!

He’ll get at you if you feeling on a high, or unwell,
He ignores it when you scream, beg and yell!
What will he bring you next? You can never tell…
Coronavirus, measles, arthritis? You cannot foretell,
In making you cringe and frightened, he can excel!
If you’re a victim, you can expect the death knell,
It’s better than this painful life in ‘Mr Unfair’s’ hell!
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‘Odds & Sods…’

One moment I’d be thinking of 1966, at Wembley,
Where did I put my book Contraband, by Dennis Wheatley?
Ogle out of the window, a kid’s playing with a frisbee,
Rushing like to be on time to take a wee-wee…
Grumps! A clean-up, Little Inchy leaked rather untimely!
What was important to remember… Ah, today Sainsbury’s!
Carer Richard arrived late, in a rush, but we had some repartee!
Crap on the gogglebox, nothing for me…
I was slightly tempted to watch Old Mother Riley,
Until I was reminded what rubbish it was in 1953!
Mind you, in those days, Inchcock had a coal fire and settee,
He gorrit from Wigfalls, 2/6d a week, and deposit 12/3d,
Ah, the time when Inchie swore at a football referee…
His first time in a Black Maria, after ‘match, he was set free!
He never dreamed of having loadsamoney…
Just as well, life ain’t been all milk and honey,
But he still tries to be witty and funny…
He gets it all wrong, of course, lucks has been his biggest absentee!
Still, he’s stopped smoking and drinking, Yessiree!
Now no one talks to him nowadays, you see!

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Grizelda

Inchcock’s had to cope with many a grievance,
Well, injustices, wrongdoings, and many disagreements,
He learnt boxing so as to boost his confidence,
100% record, he lost every bout, but kept his effervescence!

He’d try to make people laugh, so’s not to upset them,
But this only caused further thumping and mayhem…
They could be brutal, but not very often,
Then a day came when he was smitten!
Grizelda a German gal, big solid; but with Inchie, a kitten…
6ft – 4in, with biceps like tungsten!
Inchcock’s passions she did enliven…
He was so glad he enlightened…
Never again, was Inchcock frightened!

Part Of The Inchcock Make Them Laugh, In Ode Series

Inchcocks Keeping Active Routine

In Excruciatingly Bad Ode

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TIPS and ADVICE

It is essential, from your every waking moment, daily,
To assess the ailments, for any possibly acting bolshy,
That gets the brain going, fretting, and panicking too!
On the physical side; don’t expect things with spectacularity,
More concentrate, on dogged hopes and sustainability,
At all times, anticipate and expect, constant impeachability!

No doubt the wee-wees will start then, with tenacity,
Sometimes persistent, more usually of aperiodically,
The first slash you take will be with a certain trepidity!
They’ll be blood, orange urine, this’ll confirm your panic ability!
Apply the Daktacort Hydrocortisone, you’ll scream!
To ease the agony, just think of it, as being a dream!
And count slowly to yourself, up to a thousand and thirteen!

You’ll get letters, forms, threats and emails from authorities,
Along with phone calls, texts, these are not abnormalities,
How much pension and total cash are in your bank?
They raised the total allowed, in reply I was frank!
An hour a week for shopping, laundry, will cost me £280 a week!
It’s best at this time, not to freak!

Nottingham Revenue and Benefits called me on the phone…
The 2½hr form-filling left me in an ether world zone!
My concentration had departed, off it had flown…
I thanked him, with a verbal groan!

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, off to for a wee-wee, I must adjourn…

Ah, I’ve made beef stew for later, my hunger does grow…
Hello, it’s already made… 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 secret costs of the carers costs rise… Oh, blow!

At times like this, try not to get neurotic,
You’ll only get worse if you get all frenetic!
Change your mood to romantic or quixotic,
Think of happy times, when life was sybaritic!

Of course, I write mostly conceptualistic,
You might try changing your mood to eucharistic?
Or change to using heliotrope coloured lipstick?
Cause it won’t help, people’ll think you’re a dipstick!
But a different set of worries, even anti-humanistic…
Maybe enough to stop your brain from going ballistic?

There’ll be daily Whoopsies, Accifauxpas and many a quarrel,
Several times daily, to be insulted, and get a bombshell,
At times these may overpower your one brain cell…
Not to worry, you’ll have forgotten your previous natter,
Diagnosed last week, I’m aneurysmatic, but it doesn’t matter,
You’ll have enough ailments in the body, no hopes to shatter!

Your hero may be Hawking, Newton, mine is Albert Einstein,
Whichever, it matters not, for you must worry not,
Peoples choices whatever they are, are fine…
Cause you’ll only forget tomorrow, and feel a clot!

Usual things to get Arthur Itis, and become annuhilistic,
And your Willy will shrink, change its colour to pink,
You need do nothing about these, they are automatic,
Oh, and you’ll leave the hot water tap running in the sink!
Of the young, you’ll become an inpatient critic!
Your loss of memory will make you forget to think!
You’ll lose your egoisticness, no longer be artistic,
You’ll find yourself on depressions very brink…
I’m only trying to help – just giving you the wink!

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

There are times when one realizes that one had not got it right, forgotten something, missed something, lost something…

This is Perfectly Normal – Don’t Fret!

Inchcock Ode – Welcome to my world

Welcome To My World

Upon waking, Inchcock will often do a sensual check on any ailment attacks or changes. Sometimes, a discussion will occur twixt Inchcock and a specific ailment, typically one that has been giving him a little extra pain and, or hassle. When these occur, the silly old goat usually makes an Ode and graphic about his demented, dreamt up, nonsensical clap-trapping, as below from an old one.

For some unknown reason, the idiot asked me to show this graphic, as he puts it: ‘Wot I Made!’ cause he’s seems to think it is one of his rare, almost non-existent successes?

As his Alto-Ego, I will now let the uneducated, lonely old fool take over the writing of this rubbish. TTFN.

Once the physical activity starts in the morning, I often wait for the mental conditioning to begin; it usually catches up within a few minutes. It can take hours, but not often.

They were tackled then.

Sphygmomanometer showed Sys and Dia, readings high,
The Wee-Wee chart: I need to drink more! Gin & Dry?
Would it help if I go to a detoxify?
On this mind of mine, I cannot rely!

A quick look for any new damage, I don’t want to oversimplify,
Another bruise was found on the top of my left thigh…
An unknown round welt, right arm, that I can’t quantify,
The torso seems to have started to transmogrify?
Heart Op Scars raised, itching again, certainly uglify!
The broken Terence Tooth hit the pain-boards bullseye!
Shuddering, Shoulder Shirley’s eased off, but why?
Hit my head on the stove but didn’t get a black eye!.

The following tasks were ablutionary,
Not worn any socks since about July,
Cold, Brr! should I dare to use Sock-Glide Georgina?
I’ve no medical aids that are any meaner!
One Sock-Glide injury needed micro-surgery!
Hickeys, bruises, cuts, and a bleeding periphery,
Stubbed toes, damaged knees, I felt all fluttery…
Should I put my socks on? I recalled the imagery,
Of the last time, I fought Georgina, bitterly!
I chickened out of wearing socks; what a mockery!.

Anytime in the next three hours, cometh Meridian,
An incredible variety of Carers, one who is Balearian,
Unless I misheard her, and she is Algerian?
Not that it matters, none of them shows me derision,
An American gal, English, British, and an Assyrian,
All make a positive impression!

Porcelain Throne Sessions

Ah, every visit is a different evacuation, indeed.
Some days it can be half an hour, then I’ve only peed!
Rock-solid torpedoes, agony, things bleed!
Next time, liquid, 30 seconds, messy but what speed!

Housework Tended To

Took the chance to clean the fridge up, ready for the delivery to arrive shortly – well, I hope so.

Iceland Delivery Arriveth!

Then, on with Prepping Josie’s Meal

Got it delivered almost on time for her.

I was so proud of how Josie liked the look and smell,
The beef arrived two hours later, took in the dish for the gal.
Water chestnuts, potatoes, tomatoes, beef chunks as well,
Leeks and onions, chilli, three beans, the lovely smell!
Seasoned with liquid smoke, paprika, beef flavour gel,
Said she loved the cream Pretzel,
Even called me an old Angel!
I mentioned the extra lidded pot for the Damsel,
To have later, quantity double,
Too long at her door, I did not dwell,
I sensed she was hungry… Oh, yes, I can tell!

End Car Park

End car park area busy today.

Evening Views

I shall have to go now. Most likely the evening Carer will crave my body, mind and bank account… Ahem!

Ode to Maintaining One’s Sanity – Part Four or summat

In an odd mood this morning, folks, sorry, The early morning perkiness indicates me; Has done a bunk, I fear! Grugglebogness! Worries over the increase in carer fees, but my stepdaughter Jill (not really, but she ought to adopt me!), is helping me out again and investigating why I have been told I will be paying it from last Monday, but no one has told me how much it will be? I fret so easily nowadays. Hehe!

There was a time long ago, I w fascinated by Dennis Wheatley,
His character, Gregory Sallust, I thought was top quality,
Cunning, dedicated, loyal, brave with great chivalry,
I’d get back from the local hostelry,
After drinking and revelry…
Fall up or down the stairs accidentally,
Badly affected, alcoholically.

Working and drinking made my entire constellation,
For years, there was no guilt, and no contrition,
Boozing gave me a social connection…
I enjoyed it, beer and me had a cohabitation,
My taxes paid, drinking gave me no consternation!

Then one day, suddenly I decided out of the blue,
To stop my drinking ale, swearing never again to do!
The hardest thing I’d ever done, I can tell you!
I’ll not go into my suffering hullabaloo,
Never since have I drank plonk or used a corkscrew!

Now, so many years later, life is barren…
Of so-called friends, all abandoned me again,
Now I am an aged, sickly doyen…
Miserable, grumpy, but clean-shaven,
Clean-shaven? Why was that written?
I always wanted to be a Tibicen,
A flutist, but that’s probably not relevant,
I’m wandering here a bit, having a vent,

Not a vent… Erm… having a mental orbit!
Feeling a bit of a twit,
Misspellings lost words, things miswriting…
I’m losing it again, Gawdamit!

My confidence is getting titchier,
My mood is definitely schmaltzier,
My trips to the Throne frequenter
My Gawd, that’s four times this morning…
What is happening?
Each visit gets messier!
Stomach aching and is paunchier!
The passing of wind is getting noisier,
Evacuated product is meatier!
Every frequent wee-wee grows oozier!
It’s a good job that I’m no longer boozier!

It’s the memory that confuses me most,
I try, and I’ve not yet given up the ghost,
The brain nowadays is a far outpost…
Gives me access once or twice daily, at most!
But still, I remain chatty and verbose…
Seeking peace and inner glasnost,
And the ability to do my blogpost!

The Carers come twice a day; most are congenial,
Show patience, as I get confused, me being demential,
Some take my rubbish to the bin, others are contractual,
The good ones outweigh the not so good; it’s factual!
I usually get the shakes and a wobble…
Some chinwag, they go to that trouble,
This leaves me in a contentment bubble!

I like to think that I am still trainable,
But memory loss is always unavoidable,
Although, day to day it can be changeable,
That’s when I can get feeling unamiable…
And, I believe there is only me blameable,
Guilt can make contentment unavailable,
Thinking at times that I should be throttleable,
Then a kind act is given, and I get the unattainable,
And life is temporarily less circumscriptible,
Then no longer think I’m gullible or sulliable!

Some mornings I seem to transmogrify…
One leg fluid-filled, ‘tother thin, don’t know why?
Then there is Saccade Sandra, in my right eye,
My spectacles, the optician has to rectify,
He’s a snotty bloke, but at least I know why…
Last time I visited their pig-sty,
I warned the Lady of Peripheral Neuropathy, why?
Cause I’d had it bad, arm and leg shaking, me oh my!
The arm shot out, making her test lenses fly…
Her stare said she wanted me to painfully die!
The ladies hatred, I could not nullify!
So, going there again could make me cry!

This mornings carer, not ringing the bell, an oversight?
No, she never does; I didn’t hear her, her voice is light,
Crept up behind me, didn’t half give me a flipping fright!
Did she say good morning? Well, she well might…
But I didn’t hear her in the dark light.

“Sit down!” she suddenly boomed out,
Sticking her finger out towards the chair,
I took the medications, with trepidation about…
But I didn’t sit in the chair, to be fair…
I thought she wanted to give me a clout!
I chatted about it being so dark,
She was not ready for chin-waggings remarks,
Yet departed, happy as a lark?

Depression began to activate…
I found it hard to concentrate,
The Porcelain Throne was again much used,
Messy, tacky, splashes and floused…
The Throne today is much overused!
At last, it was done and cleaned. I did vacate…
Leaving the hot tap running, I did not appreciate!
No chance of a shave and shower now, mate!
I was disoriented, irritable, not focused,
In a massive fed-upperdness, I was circumfused,
I need to get myself refocused
Sod-it! Back to the Porcelain Throne, I had to navigate!

This below is the wet room, which contains the much overused Porcelain Throne. Today, I discovered that it includes 242 wall tiles, 54 cracks in the floor, and 78 on the ceiling. Which also has 14 lumps and a damp patch. The cross wording did not go well; two clues were solved in a total time on the book of three hours.

The most used room of the day!

Part of the Inchcock’s Make ‘Em Laugh Series