Humour

Advice For Whippersnappers – Part 26⅙th

/ Inchie / 5 Comments

Advice For Whippersnappers

Part 26⅙th

Oddities whippersnappers may encounter, like leprosy,
An honest politician (Joking!), or water on the knee,
Have ten children; some are yours, at most three!
Go to Scotland for the whisky and to find Nessie…
Soon realise your sanity is becoming an absentee!

Cuddle up to and grope a gal, all nice and cosey…
Sweet words are shared, things getting lovey-dovey!
Then find out her name is Arthur and not Rosie…
No need to feel embarrassed, daft, or dozy…
Fake an excuse, rush off, and send him a posey!

One day you may become an abductee!
The kidnapper demanding lots of money…
Before he’ll think of setting you free…
But no one will pay; you’re not famous, yer see?
He’ll likely keep you as an adoptee!

You’ll eat strange foods, & plain foods, like onion bhaji,
Liqueurs, cannabis cheesecake, and beetroot coffee?
Pickled walnuts, fingernails, and chocolate garibaldi…
Even if financially up a gumtree…
Try anything, as long as it’s free!

Will you be an owner, manager, or employee?
Mayhaps a hippy with long hair and a goatee?
Drugged up to eyeballs, living in a fantasy?
Marching against bombs and nuclear energy…
Just like your Mam and Dad did in 1953!

No need to use a snickersnee or machete…
Wounding or killing is plain bizarrerie…
It could be you’ll need a necropsy?
All through greed and your bellicosity,
Finish now, with hatred and animosity!

Keeping on the straight and narrow takes fortuity…
To hide your weaknesses and frangibility…
We’ve only one life each, not an eternity
Staying honest and non-aggressive shows dignity!
At St Peter’s gate, of wrongs, you’ll need deniability,
It’ll be no good pleading for mercy, circumstantially!

When it comes to things financially,
You must avoid showing credulity!
Moneylenders, Bank managers, show crudity…
But do it to start with using misleading civility!
Muggers and robbers take your cash with audacity!

As you get older, you’ll go much more often for a wee-wee!
With little warning, you’ll rush to the WC…
But, you won’t make it in time very often you see…
I know, cause every day this is happening to me!
It’ll dribble or torrent, with no controllability…

The protection pants offer little comfort to me…
But less protection, as I increase my bellies adiposity…
Struggling, Little Inchie gets stuck in the zip… agony!
I wet myself; wetter than if on a water-skiers jetty!
It bleeds, I cry… this is ageing – it’s not very pretty!

Inchcocks tries to Make Them Laugh in Odes Series

Inchcock Today: Diary with Odes

/ Inchie / 8 Comments

I’d like to start with my family, friends and flatmates here at Woodthorpe Court, in Sherwood, Nottingham

Roger Rabbit, waving to Lisa & Bill ♥

Their Mother & Father are my cyber-buddies, HRH Lisa, Billum and Alan, of Fort Thomas in the US of A. Lovely Gift; A smashing clan who sent them to me out of the blue, and I have a natter with them every morning! I made a family portrait this morning…

Inchcock Today

Whoops I woke up with a whopping great jump and jerk. It was of such magnitude it moved my body mass a few inches towards the edge of the second-hand, £300, c1968, overwhelmingly-sickeningly beige coloured, tatty, uncomfortable, wobbly-recliner. A few more inches would have had me on the carpet, cursing and nursing Harold’s Haemorrhoids! Hehehe!

Of course, that was the end of any sleeping, so I lay a few seconds to work out what day and time it was and any actions or activities required… But here was the watch? No longer on my wrist?

I soon found out what I’d done with it – fourteen hours later, I found it on the floor, behind the £300, second-hand bought, c1968, nauseously beige-coloured, not-working, rusty, rickety, difficile, crumb-covered tatty recliner.

During the ablutionalisationing, I realised I had not got my watch on. “Ah, well,” I thought, “It’ll be on the ottoman!” Finished off and made a brew of Glengettie. But…

Refilling the kettle, Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley kicked off. Talk about bad timing! Harrumph! The water went all over the previously washed and dried cutlery and crockery, down the front cabinet of the sink and down my trousers, socks and slippers, and onto the kitchen floor…

It took me ages to get it sorted and dressed again. I seem to be doing this a lot more often lately. Dementia Doreen? SSS? Peripheral Pete? Cataract Kathleen? Haha! Who knows which will get the blame.

Made a fresh mug of tea and got on the computer, rather pleased to be making an early start on the blog. Ha!

I had to do other jobs and kept nipping back to see if Liberty-Global, the company with a Revenue of: 12.98 billion USD (2021), who bought out Virgin Media Internet, are even worse than the scumball BT internet was… Not that Herr Fries is bothered. Don’t I pick them!

Did the health checks, and the internet was back on. But to for long, ten minutes maybe…

Pee’d off with this already! The Iceland delivery arrived. They had substitutes plain sausages again for the unavailable microwave ones! That’s the fourth time this year, I’ve sent them back each time, but they keep subbing them.

The strawberries and tomatoes were from Morocco. The strawberries had some slime on a few, which I threw away. The mini-cherry tomatoes were substituted for vine ones and tested for taste… Bloody Hell! I’ve tasted a tomato so foul and bitter in my life! Eurgh! They hadn’t any brown cobs in stock either! All in all, a bad do! I put the crap away.

Tried the computer again. It had come back on at last. For around a half-hour, then…

Well, obviously not that much… Git!

My morning Carer called and sorted me out. It was her first call. She came in without ringing the door chime and gave me a nervous tick! Even if she shouts out when she walks in, I can’t hear her with my hearing. Still, I wasn’t using the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee-Bucket) when she came in. Hehehe!

Aha! The internet came back on… Thank you, Mr Fries. Got the post finished and sent off. Facebooking, and it happened again:

Liberty-Global has disassociated itself with Virgin Media; they do not mention that they own and fail to run it, hoping that Richard Branson will get the blame, I think?

One more effort once it came back on. Most anger-making and revenge prompting! But this time, I had to close everything down and off and reboot the box and computer.

I’ll have to give up on this; Liberty-Global Virgin Media Internet has gone off again! My language is crude at the moment. I am willing and wishing that Fries drops dead immediately. It won’t matter to me cause he can’t run the service anyway. He’s a number-cruncher, accountant, actuary, bean-counter, bookkeeper, calculator, con-man. His use of smoke and mirrors, off-shore account movements etc., are his strengths. A wanker of a banker! Indeed, he has no people-care or customer sensitivity.

I’ve lost all my heart in blogging now. I’ll get something to eat, give up until morning, and then try again to use LIBERTY-GLOBAL Virgin Media Internet. But I’m not confident… well, I am in a way – I feel sure that Fries will let things get worse… there’ll be a financial fiddle of some sort involved in the situation, I’m sure. But he is obviously trying to destroy a company, his company, that paid around $2.4 billion to buy out… why? Back-handers? Mafia? Money Shuffling & Juggling? Banking fiddle? You scratch mine – I’ll scratch yours?

Bribery and manipulation? Or just money-making savviness via greedy, devious, underhand means? Just a thought! Why is he shoving all the much-travelled money of Liberty-Global into telecom and internet companies the world over? When he obviously is incapable of providing a reliable service? A money-predatory and manipulative Con-Man supreme!

Today’s end car park inspection photograph.

Carer Valerie arrived. Just after I’d realised that I had no hot water from the taps (faucets). She was kind enough to find and write ht telephone number of the Nottingham City Homes Repairs in large letters so I could read it. I was a little nervous to ring yet if I had made a cock-up leaving a tap running or something. (The hot water was back on in the morning, Phew!) Off went Valerie taking the bags o the waste for me on her way. Thank you!

Herbert was giving it some hammer tonight; I wonder what he’s making this time. I found a picture that I’d taken last week, possibly from Thursday when I visited the foot lady at the hair salon appointment farce.

Washed and changed into the night attire, and I made up a bottle of spring water and lime juice. I did a couple for Carer Richard, who may come on Monday, and stored them in the fridge, so they will be nice and cold for him.

Hot much of a sunset again tonight, but still beautiful to me, even with the muted hue and colours.

I used the Canon camera. As for some reason, the Fuji developed a thick white line down the centre of the screen, and I could not remove it? Turned it off and then back on, but no luck; still there?

As I got down on the recliner to watch some TV, I took this snap of my legs. Not a pretty sight!

The fattiness in both legs was returning, or it might be water-retention, but I think not. I wish I knew why I felt that, but I cannot remember why now, Tsk! (Sunday morning)

Cartilage Cathy on the right and Arthur Itis on the left knee, can you see? The veins are shallower tonight, and the hairs have suddenly turned grey? The funny side of this shot was the feet not showing. Hahaha!

An Ode to an ‘Orrible Day

My signing with Virgin Media was happenstantial,
The computer… to be precise, Liberty-Global,
Ran by Mike Fries, money-mad and ignoble!
Who bought out Virgin Media, most controversial,
Liberty-Global is crap; blame is cunningly deflectable…
They keep shtum about owning Virgin Media – detestable!
So Richard Branson gets the blame, a sort of Guilt-Burial!
My hatred for Mike Fries is substantial…
Well, his hatred of customers is evidential…
His lousy internet seems to him inconsequential,
He still gets paid a fortune, and management are reverential?
The sickening signs of fiddling figures are torrential!
Although my evidence is only circumstantial…
And comes from a customer who is uninfluential,
Liberty-Global’s ever failing service makes me demential!

Morning all!

Inchcock: Diary-Belated Photographicalisations 1.2

/ Inchie / 17 Comments

Including revelations from Inchcock’s past!

Oh, yes! and an Ode, too!

A mixed bag of Moon pictures from the kitchenette window.

I tried both cameras as well. Only the last one was any good. Hehehe! There were plenty of absolute failures taken, though.

Peripheral Neuropathy Pete struck at just the wrong time again! He’s clever at doing that, a cunning ailment indeed! Haha! I was just pouring the boiled water into the mug to make my Glengettie brew!

Memory Prompting old snap!

revelations

If I recall correctly (I sometimes do), this was taken in the back yard of Co-op Grocery store number 118. Arleston Drive, in Wollaton. I started there as Greengrocery Manager. During the happiest working days of my life! Boss, store Manager, Mr Morris. Got up to Assistant Manager of the store… and made a terrible choice, in accepting a job in Beeston, as the Greenfruit – Wet Fish shop manager. I often wondered over the years what would or could have happened career-wise if I’d stayed in Grocery as Mr Morris’ second man. Cause the Greater Nottingham Co-op got a new chairman, who unfortunately oversaw the retail foods departments. He closed the bakery, the cobblers (shoe repairers), and opened Superstores, the first being in Trowel, a couple of miles away from Lily Grove, where my shop was situated. Of course, they had lower prices, and my sales went down 33% the week the store opened! So… they closed it, along with many more small retail outlets.

The real sadness was that when I first saw him at the next shop, I was put in, another one due for closure, on Nuthall Road. I’d increased sales at that shop, mainly the wet fish sales, they were up 45%. But meeting him brought out the hatred for him in me. He was a smug know-all. I made it worse when he asked where I got catfish from. I picked up what he thought was catfish, told him I get it from Rossfish in the market – and told him, “It’s not catfish, it’s called Dogfish!” With all his conies and bum-lickers with him, this did not go down too well with his ego! Me laughing might have made things worse. After that, the hatred was mutual.

Until the new Superstore opened, a Bulwell Superstore, half a mile away! I was trying to sell cod fillets at 3/6d a pound, and the Superstore was retailing at 2/- lb! I was doomed!

He made my life a misery for years! When I moved to Tesco, I prayed he’d call in to laugh me off, but he didn’t. Probably just as well; it may have saved him from a few broken teeth and me from a prison sentence! Gawd, I was livid at the man!

But all came good years later, the Greater Nottingham Cooperative Society went bust! Hahahahahahahaha! The Co-operative Wholesale Society bought them out, and the first thing they did was close his miracle superstores! But I’d like to have seen him once more, just to laugh in his fat superior face! Still, that’s enough of that!

♫ Food, Glorious Food ♫

Just look at the healthy foodstuffs I had delivered! Bananas, Baked bean & cheese pasties, Cheese twists, fresh garden peas from Nicaragua. Potato and leek pie! Only one packet of smoked bacon this week. Apple pies instead of cream cakes? I did overdo the lemon & lime possets, I admit. Well, they were half-price!

Getting the fodder into the fridge, a minor calamity took place. As I took this photo above, the possets fell off the shelf, one hitting the corner of the drawer below and chipping some plastic off of it… I hastened to make sure that the other jars were safe from falling further…

I trod on the splinter of plastic! Well, the blood flowed! It messed my socks, feet, slippers and the freshly mopped floor. But did I swear and curse? Of course, I did!

I was in the middle of sorting things out. I’d done the floor, and I was in the wet room, tending to the feet and socks and a change of clothes. I thought I’d heard a bell or chime from somewhere? I limped naked into the front room and had missed a call on the mobile, so I rang the number back. The Hairdressers in Winwood Court also do chiropody, telling me my appointment to have the plates done; it was in 20 minutes!

I was a little flummoxed as I rushed to get the dressing done, got the trousers on, left the socks for Sarah to put on for me after doing my feet, checked things for safety, no taps running, owt on the stove etc. and fell chuffed as I left the flat, thinking I can just make it in time…

As I got to the lift, a chap from the other end smiled at me… and said, “You know you’ve got your pyjama bottoms on?” Der!!! I replied that I do now, thanks!

Scrambled back into the apartment, changed into the trousers, and legged it to the hair salon as fast as possible. I may have been a minute or two late. Judging by the glaring look that I got when I entered, possibly a little longer. Oh dearie me! But it got worse… I had the feet done, then slipped her a can of G&T in thanks, and started to wheel the walker trolley out of the door.

I again got the same threatening look as she said: “Are you going to pay then?” No trace of a smile involved! Oh, things are not going well; Dementia Doreen is having a ball with me!

I got back up to the flat and cautiously made a brew of Thompsons Punjana. I say cautiously, cause the kettle is kaputt, and I have to use a saucepan of water – high-risk that, if Peripheral Pete, Shaking Shaun, or Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley should kick-off!

I checked on the order for a kettle on Amazon. Says it is coming tomorrow… It says tomorrow, by 22:00hrs, the tracker says it has not even near to arrived for despatch yet? Hmm! I was hoping it would come sooner; I’m risking s good scalding using the saucepan.

Nosh: Bean and cheese pastie. Two cheese twirls, yellow tomatoes and tons of fresh garden peas. Haha! Flavour: 8.2/10.

Moon from a distance.

Ah, that’s better!

Another decent effort, I’ll try again… I did. I’m too ashamed to show three smudged shaky efforts and this one below…

When I got back and worked on the blog for a good while, I suddenly panicked that I may have left the tap running when I had to dash out to the foot-lady… I shot like lighting to check on the wet room… Well, that’s a lie, but I hobbled as hastily as I could. I am glad to report that I had not left the faucet running at all…

However… I still nearly fainted when I got in the wet room? I’d left the convertor heater on full blast! What a wally!

A sunset from which day, I’ve no idea. But it’s pretty?

If the SD card does not fall apart again and the card reader on the computer is behaving, I’ll have a look later to see if there are any more pictures on there I’ve not put on. Ah, got some!

Forgot about them, me? Yes!

Well pleased with these figures… again!

Body temperature up a bit; it reminds me of the quiz show on the telly years ago, the Golden Shot with Bob Monkhouse. Do you remember it? It was not a brilliant show, but it was so good when Mr Monkhouse compared it. Poor Charlie Williams, who took over when Bob left, was lost. He was a great comedian all the same.

Hello, I got one more sunset photo in tonight! Bootiful!

Ode To My Photographicalisationings

Why is the quality of my photos varying?
Well, there are several reasons, some being…
Firstly, there’s Shirley’s-Shoulder-Shuddering…
Dizzy Dennis is always ready and lurking…

Peripheral Neuropathy Pete… now theres’ a thing!
He can make me wobble, things go dropping…
My right leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler dancing!
Nasty, if I’m Nocturnal-Wee-Wee-Bucketing!
Even taking a Weak-Unwilling-Negligible-Trickling,
Throughout the room, the wee-wee goes sprinkling!

Vascular Dementia Doreen, the one I’m fearing…
She gives my memory and brain a pommeling!
Reflux Roger, thankfully now rarely troubling…
Duodenal Donald can be bad, he’s not piffling!

Next, the latest big three ailments arriving…
Cataracts Kathleen, the most serious warning…
48 weeks to wait, before a consultants scheduling,
Right eye worse, with Saccades Sandra troubling…
Glaucoma Gladys, the eyesight is now failing…

The oldest ailments, that are still surviving?
Little Inchies Fungal Lesion, Phimosis, can he sting!
Mechanical Heart Valve, no need for alleviating…
Especially as it is thankfully working!

Another ailment that doesn’t affect picture taking…
The ear holes have long been handicapping…
Now, the ear wax in them is tightly congealing,
I can’t hear the telephone ringing,
Hear the radio or television playing…
Hardly hear the chap upstairs banging and knocking…
But of course, the last line is an advantage!

Try to make them Laugh Series

Inchcocks first solo visit to the Slab Square: In 1955

/ Inchie / 7 Comments

Inchcock then & now Haha!

Despite the poverty, I was at my happiest…
In my younger years, and almost positive!
Full of vigour and at my determinest…
I set out one Sunday to slab Square, looking my nattiest!
First time alone on a trolleybus, at my swankiest!

43 Trolleybus in town

The bus ticket cost all of 3d,
Today that would be about ½ a new penny,
I wanted to get a Sunday paper, you see…
Take it to Dad; make him proud of me!
But the newsvendor asked, where’s your Daddy?
I didn’t realise he knew my Dad, Harry!
He told me to take myself home and hurry!
But he did give me a newspaper for Dad, for free!

West Bridgford (WBUDC) bus

So, I did, on a posh, pretty coloured WBUDC,
West Bridgford Urban District Council, you see?
We didn’t argue with adults back then, tactfully…
Agreeing with grown-ups, had desirability…
Cause of their clipping you around the earhole, ability!

I hastened home…

I hurried home, in hope of a visit from Auntie Kerry…
She liked to bath me, which always affected my psychoactivity,
I think she had some habits, mayhaps, eccentricity?
She scrubbed me up well, with dexterity, not dignity!
I always greeted her arrival with emotional glee!
Not understandingly, but happy… and expectantly…
Knowing (praying for) what she was about to do to me! ♥
I longed for her visits, and was her greatest devotee,
And to think that people said we were an odd family? Hehe!

Well, perhaps we were…

How things change… Hehehe!

Good Morning, all!

Inchcock: Ode to Old Nottingham Memories

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

Inchcock Loses the plot in this ode to Old Nottingham Memories

But he does his bestest, honest!

Nottingham has many virtues, good, bad and chronic…
Its history, of being Saxonic,
It’s people grand, pleb’s, murderers, some moronic,
Nowadays, we’ve bred more that are demonic…
Muggers, gangsters, shop lifter, a lot, schizophrenic…
A few have car insurance, and not many have a driving licence…
Younger Nottinghamians music is cacophonic…
Thousands of students, so some scientific…
We’ve had many arrested for being terroristic.

Many of them you’d think were telluric,
The job-shy, call having a cold being sick!
Many old uns like me, who remember Sputnik…
Using lard to make their spotted dick!
We’re snided out with those sarcastic…
Even more of them are vandalistic!
Gone are the days of the workaholic…
But also gone, getting polio, scabies and colic!
Hopes for our citizenry? Like a trip on the Titanic!

The tin bath dragged inside from the wall, metallic…
No bath salts, we made do with soap, carbolic!
Hot water, Ha! Boil it on the stove or fire; unhygienic!
The toilet outside at the end of the yard is unproblematic!
Mind you, in winter, I was a smidgeon unenthusiastic…
Coal-house out there, fetching wood could be traumatic,
In the dark, you could kill a rat or cat hidden – tragic!
But lazing in front of the coal fire was magic!
Until the burning ashes shot out, and the carpet got lit!

Anything to be written was in pencil or pen and ink!
We knew nowt about an uplink, hard-drive or weblink,
Mobile, cell phone, wristwatch, dentist or permalink,?
Our pleasures limited, Monopoly, maybe tiddlywink…
Swearing was minimal then, ratfink, burke or gink!
Getting the belt for devilry made us wince and squint!
I got a few lashes once, a day out…for not looking perjink!
I recall once, the lads writing on my leg splint…
Not a lot of it was spelt right; they put sinnt for sent…
But thickness and ignorance permeated wherever I went!

I tried to join a club once, ended up getting a blackballing!
My education, manners, and appearance were appalling!
My approach to girls, looking back… was bloodcurdling!
9 times out of 10, her admirers would end up brawling!
With me, the littlest, the one that kept falling & failing!
On this embarrassing subject, I’ll stop burbling!

Amongst the unknown to us was Methamphetamine,
Mind you, we’d a neighbour who’d supply whisky and gin…
I got IPA, Mackeson, Guinness, thus started drinking…
My intake, for many years, there was no curtailing…
But my love of beer was never really disabling,
Until cancer arrived, there was only one way of controlling…
I singularly went from a happy drinker to totally abstaining!
It was hard, so hard to do, I still find it appealing…
But without any help, encouragement or counselling,
I turned tea-total… smug-mode developing!

I became a keen lover of food and masticator,
My weight ballooned, and furthermore…
Got myself a duodenal ulcer…
Cancer of the bladder…
Then diabetes and nasty hernia…
Peripheral neuropathy, oh, bother!
A stroke, which left me a confused procrastinator…
Disabled, what next? Cataracts, Saccades and Glaucoma!
I was already going deaf, then bother with an incisor!

And to think, I used to be a blood-doner..,
Also, now, I do tend to stutter…
Still struggle with the wee-weeing bother,
Then I was confirmed to have Vascular Dementia…
This life has been terrible… yet also an adventure!
Oh, and the back’s developing a curvature…
I think its best to try and stay demure,
About there is no chance of a cure,
The failing eyesight is worrying me more…

Did I deserve all these ailments? That’s up for conjecture,
Is that the right word? I’ll check… Yes, no error!
Things seemed better in the days of yore, thereinbefore,
The Carers’ cost a lot, that’s for sure…
A little good luck, I could do with some more?
Dementia Doreen’s in control, I’m sure, that I can assure…
Yet at times, she rests, releases the memory-core…
If she returns and comes back to the fore,
She’s my ever-present concentration annihilator!

Sorry, I see my starting thoughts got juxtaposed…
Did my thought waves get overdiagnosed?
Is Dementia Doreen no longer comatose,
Or my incredulous logic, become indisposed?
Have I been overeating glucose,
I’ve just eaten a banana, and I’m adipose!
Would it be alright to have Marmite on toast?
The plot’s gone again – what a terrible host!.

Inchcock’s Abysmal Odeing – For Fun

Inchcock Today: Monday 14th February 2022: Confusionableitis!

/ Inchie / 3 Comments

Inchcock Today

Monday 14th February 2022

Jolly Good Morning!

I stirred back into pretend-life around 02:00hrs with a jump that left me in the £300, second-hand bought, c1968, nauseously beige-coloured, not-working, rusty, rickety, difficile, crumb-covered, grotty, tatty recliner, as the Thought-Storms started. I’d had a few earlier bursting awake episodes, but I got back to sleep pretty quickly. This time, Thought-Storms made sure I gave up on any idea of going back to sleep… Humph!

After fretting about the eye-sight problems, then working out what day it was, an unexpected surge of interest in cleaning up overcame me. It didn’t last long, of course! I made up three bags of waste, refilled the washing fluid bottle, cleaned the kitchenette sink and considered the possibility of my mopping the floor! But I was saved from housework impulse by the sudden need to use the Porcelain Throne. 

Had I been asleep in the recliner, I would never have made it in time! Boris Bowels was in complete charge of the evacuation and timing. So, it might have been a good thing I did get up so soon? All over in seconds until the second wave of sloppy stuff followed on… Stinking, messy and a hell of a job cleaning up the wet room furniture and me, again! I cleaned the floor in the wet room a little… Oh, I am a good boy sometimes. Haha!,

I washed and made for the medical drawer and the Galpharm capsules, taking two of them! Well, things were very watery and gooey, so I thought it would be safe to take two. I just hope it isn’t going to be house-bricks on the next visit to the Throne… Please!

I got the kettle on for a brew, and looked out of the window, taking this sadly very poor, in fact terrible, effort at photographicalisationing.

Then, as I closed the window, I trapped my finger, no bother at all. I possibly may have uttered or mumbled something like, “Oh, flipping ‘eck!” or similar.

The body temperature was taken on the digital machine. All the 3’s showed up. I got a bit of a shock when I checked online with the NHS site… This is the result of my checking to see what 33.3°c indicated… I am not confident enough to call anyone. It may well be that the machine is not giving correct results? I do not feel poorly and have been below 35°c for the last seven days or more now? Ah, well, on to the sphygmomanometerisationing…

Another not so good one. Yet it’s only s little higher than it has been and far lower than many results this month? I don’t usually fret over these things, but I hope the haematology nurse comes to do the Warfarin blood test tomorrow, and I can have a word with her about things.

On to the computer, and the photo reader was playing up again. Then… Well, fancy that, it hasn’t let me down since yesterday, and Frid, Thursday, Wednesday… Grrr!

Turned everything and booted up again, still no signal. Humphers! Ten minutes or so and came back on at a crawling speed. But, I pressed on.

I spent a couple of hours finishing off yesterdays blog and posting, and Carer Richard arrived. Which caught me by surprise, as I thought he was on holiday this week? Although I was glad to see him, he was not too pleased to be here! I asked if he had been called in and got an incoherent muffled answer in reply, which told me not to push the issue. I’ve no idea what had gone on. But the lad was in a dour mood for him. I soon cheered him up with some treats and a joke or two. He slowly, nearly got to being back to his usual self. Hehehe! He took the three waste bags out with him, bless him.

I made a brew and back onto the computer… but…

You stand-need to get more involved with Three and Vodaphone, as you are doing when you can’t even supply even a half-decent internet service, Mr Fries? I suppose it’s all number-juggling, money on paper? You’re good at that, mist and mirrors with the profit, but crap in running an internet provider service. Just thought I’d let you know. I am one of the suckers using Virgin Media now that Liberty-Global has bought the company.

Got the service back on eventually. Went on WordPress Reader, then the Comment replying. The photo thingy started to work, so I got the pictures on post-haste.

Here’re the earlier shots taken from the kitchenette window. To all intents and purposes, the skyline looked as if it was a sunset, with the white stripe across it. Different if nothing else.

Things took a sudden turn for the worse around 10:00hrs. I was making another brew of Glengettie, dropped the teabag, lent on the stick and got down to retrieve it… Oh, dearie me! I sharp pain in the groin, just like the one in 1988, when I got a hernia! Ever since, it has been twanging at me whatever I’ve been doing, hobbling, sitting down,  looking out of the window… but especially when I bend or stretch for something.

I took an extra Codeine straight away. And I am prepared to take another if things don’t calm down in the nether regions. Grogglefrogs!

I decided to get the nosh done early, as I had a feeling things were going to get worse, as Dizzy Dennis and Shaking Shaun had joined in with Hernia Henry, giving me bother.

No cooking involved to be on the safe side… well, no, that’s not strictly true. I did some baked stone rolls in the oven for ten minutes. Then got them buttered, and sliced the last of the large Natoora black tomatoes, to have in the cobs. Chicken thighs and a banana to round off the meal. With not feeling up to much, I couldn’t eat anywhere near all of it, but I did gobble all the black tomatoes.

Got the pots washed, and I drifted off into a fitful, tossing and turning, waking every five minutes for an hour or so. When I woke and decided to get myself ready for the ablutionalisationing to be done, I thought I’d dreamt of cleaner Esther, she was raising her voice at me… again, but I couldn’t recall why.

Ablutioning Farces

  • I went to get the fresh jammies to put on after the session, but could I find them? No! So I got the ones I’d put in the laundry basket and sprayed them with freshener.
  • Went into the wet room and realised I’d put the fresh jammies in there ready. I feel such a fool!
  • Cleaning the teeth and another filling that the dentist but it fell out! They ought to be butchers, not Dentists!
  • Shaving, two almost symmetrical cuts, both tiny, one under each earhole. Work of art that was!
  • Showering; as I was bending down to wash the ankle ulcer, Dizzy Dennis had me over – even for me, and I was there, this was amazing… I clouted my head in the exact same spot against the same power box as I did two days ago! It didn’t bleed much, stopped on its own.
  • Drying off, I partly cleared the contents of the floor cabinet in one swoop. Now I was pee’d-off with myself!

On the plus side, there was no toe-stubbing, and the medicationings went much more straightforward than expected.

The legs looked to be in fine fettle; even Arthur Itis was in a good mood with me; bless his cotton socks! Talking of socks, I put some on… NOT using SGG (Sock-Glide-Glenda) Cost me a lot of pain, but surely less than using the dreaded metal monstrosity, Glenda!

The feet looked even better than the legs did. Well, apart from the feeling of worms under the skin on the old Ankle Ulcer area. Within a few hours of this itching starting, the pain usually follows. Hey-Ho!

Off into the kitchen to get the kettle on…

I was pulled up in tracks – The window was ajar? The server trolley was well out of its usual position, over near the fridge? And the bowl I’d left clothes soaking in was empty, no sign of the cloths anywhere… Had I lost it altogether here?

I stood musing for a second and let my grip on the walking stick relax while trying to engage with my brain and memory. I got the picker-upperer to get the stick back (Hernia Henry was still giving me jip). The head natural went down, and I noticed something even more puzzling! The oven door had been cleaned! What? Who? How? There is no way I could have handled that job the may the stomach is?

My thoughts began to blend into a possible reason for the oven door. Maybe I had not dreamt of Esther? Perhaps she actually came to the flat… that would explain the moved items and cleaned oven? My mind was half and half on the matter!

A-side brain: Thought, I know I’m getting senile, but indeed I’d have known if Esther had called, she scares the life out of me with her commands and demands… I must have been aware…
B-side brain: It’s obvious she has been…
A-side brain: But she left no note or message…
B-side brain: She wasn’t to know you’d have a funny turn, was she?
A-side brain: Who said I had a funny turn?
B-side brain: Well, let’s face it, you nodded of at a time you’ve never nodded off, dint yer?
A-side brain: Well, yea… suppose so.
B-side brain: You can’t rest now, can you? You’ve got to know…
A-side brain: I could give her a call… I’d look and sound like a pratt, though!
B-side brain: So what’s changed?
A-side brain: Bugger it, you’re right, I’ll ring her now…

Embarrassing as it was, I did call her and asked if she’d been to the flat. “Yes, you were not well, and I could not wake you up!” So I let you sleep, but you were shaking your right leg and shoulder all the time?

I didn’t bother explaining to her again about Peripheral Neuropathy, Pete; I just said it doesn’t hurt. (Of course, when it gets more active, it has been known to have me off of the recliner with a thud. But that’s another tale).

It was a kind of pleasant feeling to know that I wasn’t going proper crazy, anyway.

The door chime rang out. I feared it might be Esther, cause she was in another flat when I rang her! But it was Josie returning her Sunday lunch tray and dish. It cheered me up when she said how much she’d enjoyed it this week! Smug-Moded!

That reminds me, the lady who I took the Strawberries to, her name, which escaped me yesterday, is Frances! I think I may have a photo of the gal; I’ll have a look. That’s Francis on the left, with Penny in Woodthorpe Court lobby when it was being done up a few years ago.

I took a photographicalisation of Sherwood from the kitchenette window. The rain was falling at the time.

Then I made a bottle of orange juice.

The rain suddenly stopped, and darkness fell rapidly. I bet there will be some beautiful sunset views to take later in, give in about an hour and a half, and I’ll be back at the window David Baileying.

Oh, I’ve done Facebooking for yesterday yet. Tsk! Treated me to a mini-lemon meringue pie and got back to the blogging work…

I was feeling a little dodgy, weak, confused again. It could just be the bang on the head, I suppose.

Hahaha! I’m used to them, though. But there may be a limit…

Bad news on the weather front warning.

The Meteorological Office has issued a ‘Danger To Life’ warning for Wednesday & Thursday this week. With a possibility of snow gales in the North. They tell us that the last storm took three lives, and this one will be worse.

Six of the best kitchen window shots of the Sunset tonight

Bootiful”

The door-chime didn’t chime to wake me tonight. It was young Carer Kiya who came into the room, who came in to give me shock again as she woke me up. Such a pretty young thing stirring me back into imitation life was pleasant enough. It could be embarrassing if I am using the wee-wee bucket or making mad rampaging love to a female when she comes in unannounced. But I had to ask her to use the chime in future, then walk straight in.” Although the chances of the second scenario are nil!” With a broad smile on my face so as it would not sound as if I was ticking her off. She missed the funny side of it. But said she would use the chime in future. Bless her!

She sorted the medications out and watched me as I took them. I took one of the Hemp capsules separately. It went down okay this time.

Gave her her choice of nibbles, a Cadbury’s mini Easter egg, and a can of Fanta orange. Kiya pointed out that she is only seventeen, so no alcoholic drink was chosen. I thanked her, and she took the waste bags to the chute for me on her way out.

No messing then, I got down into the recliner in search of intended Sweet Morpheus, this time. But it took a couple of hours or so before I could nod off properly. Thought Storms that at times felt like dreams, but they couldn’t have been, I didn’t nod of for hours. All a part from the feeling rough and sleeping for a while this afternoon?

In desperation, I even put the TV on, thinking that the first set of adverts would send me off to meet Sweet Morpheus. Ha! They didn’t. However, it just boosted the rate of the Thought Storms. Humph!

Ode To The Day

This was a very different, confusing sort of Monday,
At times, I cried, laughed, self-hated, tried to pray,
One moment things were going along appealingly…
But ended up badly, going so appallingly!
All-day long, everything I did, was absentmindedly…

Momentarily, seemingly, things went merrily…
Often, sourly, frustratingly, alarmingly and acridly,
The tumble in the shower… was almost expectedly?
Thought-Storms raged, some viciously, others banally?
Fears and worries increased, most of them baselessly!

Vascular Dementia Doreen, ever more harrowingly slyly…
She allowed bits of memory and information today…
To be accessed, but all the part recollection ambiguously,
I didn’t need telling; I was going off my trolley…
What bits of logicality I had turned into banality!

Sadly, the above appraisal is close to reality…
Life is apathetic, virtually accidental, and agonistically…
Missing opportunities for joy, affectionately…
My mind wanders, as do bodily things, medically…
I await many appointments, clinicopathologically,
Mayhaps one day, I can report one going blithefully?

The Nottingham Lads Diary – with Odeing

Inchcock Today: Diary with Ode

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LAST NIGHT’s CATCH-UP

I decided to get some Cheesy Potatoes done for Carer Richard when he comes tonight.

I soon turned into an uglier imitation but albeit me a smaller one, a younger one, less fodder-wise, shorter, and an older one, of Gordon Ramsay. Hehe!

I even donned my Toque. I thought it would be an unexpected treat for Richard, and all my remaining concentration went into getting it prepared properly. I intended to make it the best I could, and luckily Peripheral Neuropathy Pete was helping by not playing up too much. This is good! I thought, so I pressed on conscientiously and even felt a bit proud of my efforts. Smug-Mode-Assumed. I got the last potatoes in the oven, and they were done in no time. I got them out on the chopping board added all the seasonings you can see in the photo above. Then bashed the living daylight out of potato flesh and mature, strong cheddar, adding Squid sauce (liquid salt), BBQ seasoning, spirit vinegar, Worcester sauce and a dirty great-chunk of butter! It took ages to get it all to mix together, I don’t know how long it took me, but I was all weary-armed by the time I got the shells back in the oven to brown off. Haha!

I was feeling even smugger when they came out almost perfect! Well, as I would have liked them too. I was planning on four for Richard, two for me… I ate mine straight away!

The door chime played its Oh, Susanna tune, and I anticipated Richard coming down the hallway, but whoever was buzzing did not come in. I realised why when I got to the door – “I’d left it locked form when I took my shower!” What a plonk!

Opened the door to see Carer Valerie. I’d made yet another cock-up! I thought Richard said he was coming tonight, but Valerie told Richard is coming in the morning. So, I gave Valerie the cheesy potatoes. I packed them in foil and put them in a bag for her, and she seemed to like the look of them, which made me content cause Valerie is a good gal to me. Wished her farewell, and she took the waste bags to the chute with her, for me.

Before I turned off the computer, I had a look at my Google Calendar for the next few days. And son realised I had not put some things down… although I really was confident that I had done? So, I added them!

Checked on my plates and legs; they were a lot better looking than yesterday. As I was just about to start getting smug again…

I felt the wet warm sensation of gushing blood within the protection pants. I hastened to the wet room to find, with maximum embarrassment, it was not blood but urine! The recent bouts of smugness were abandoned and replaced with a dollop of shame and ignominy! Depression threatening!

I started on the Health Checking in a slightly lower state of joy and contentment. The body temperature seemed fair enough. Got everything cleaned and medicated and changed into the night attire.

The sphygmomanometerisationing showed the Blood Pressure was up a smidge, at Sys 148, Dia okay at 68, and the temperature read 86. Nowt much to worry about; I’ve had a lot higher at times.

I was well tired when I got changed and medicated. The eye drops ought really to be called nose or mouth drops, in my case… Humph! Despite Shaking Shaun kicking off, I must have been tired, for I was off to sleep in a flash.

I was soon woken up by Herbert bashing about. At this time of night, it might not be late for some, but it is me, 22:00hrs gone! The ungregarious, unamiable, unloquacious, haughty, pompous, git! Still, he soon stopped. This may have had something to do with hitting the roof with my walking stick…

Which serves me right, cause I stubbed my toe getting back in the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly-beige-coloured, not-working, rickety, incommodious, grotty recliner. Tsk!

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

Thursday 3rd February 2022

I woke up (I do that sometimes you know), and a renewed inspiration took place. I intend to get the cheesy potatoes ready for when Richard calls; he will not be done out of his treat. I laid there and pondered on the logistics of my desire with the cheesy spud making:

  1. I only have a few small potatoes left to use
  2. This will mean I cannot refill the skins for him…
  3. I’ll heat the potatoes, then give them a good mix and bash with the cheese (plenty in the fridge) and seasonings.
  4. Put them in an oven dish.
  5. Timing will be critical, though. Richards ETA, 06:30 to 07:30hrs… Mmm!…
  6. Fingers crossed, I’ll make a start then…

The pots were put in the oven cooking, and I did some blogging. Then got the tubers out and sliced them. I’d got the cheese in the basin all ready with the seasonings already in it. I then took the flesh out to mix in the bowl…

Got the cheesy spuds in the tray and back into the oven. They were soon all looking good and browned off pretty well.

I removed the tray, burning my fingertips as I did so. Then tidied up the appearance, and I wrapped it all in tin foil and awaited Richards arrival.4

I dropped the small husks back in the oven and nibbled them a few minutes later. Nice! I’m afraid I’ve got the taste back for cheesy potatoes. I ordered Iceland to get their baking potatoes and some wine for someone or other. Not saying in case they read this. As I was starting the order, today’s Iceland order arrived.

I’d forgotten I’d already ordered some wine, which was delivered today with the other stuff. I can tell you now, it was for Sister Jane and hubby Pete. I’ll ring them later to say to them they can collect them.

I’m not so sure about the Iceland new Fruit & Salad desserts. In fact, I don’t recall ordering them? But, there you go.

Minutes later, Richard arrived. The lad seemed a little tensed up for some reason to me. He didn’t seem exactly jumping with joy at the meal I’d made for him. But kind enough to take it anyway. Methinks Richard is having some bother of some sort. I hope whatever it is turns out right for him. I hobbled him to the door and wished him well as he departed, taking the waste bags with him. Bless him!

Back to the blogging. Got a call from Sister Jane and told her about the wine awaiting her pleasure. Then the Haematology Nurse, Hristina, arrived. She was in a rush again but chatted while she took the blood. Gave her an Easter egg, but I had to almost force her to take it. Hahaha!

Sudden Dizzy Dennis visit, joined shortly with shaking Shaun. Not too good this.

Mind-Wanderings and pointless Mental Memorabilia

A gal once asked me, I think her name was Gloria?
Have you ever experienced utter euphoria?
We then got grips and a bit overfamiliar…
She asked again; I said no, and we ate a veggie burger.

Christine later said, she thought me peculiar,
So I didn’t see her again and chased after Julia…
I liked her, although she was older and ganglier,
But she didn’t take to me, she was always wiser…

Then a gal who was brawnier, my beloved Grizelda!
Encounters of passion, she wore no brassier…
Her body was all firm and desirably muscular,
While it lasted, I did find utter euphoria…
She was visiting the UK, from Mülheim an der Ruhr,
Grizelda went home, leaving me feeling sadder!

Then came Fern, for me, she was classier…
Sex-mad, but grumpy, niggly and crotcherier…
And it has to be said, she was much clumsier,
She’d greet me with not a smile, but leer…
Proving her to a smidge superior…
With pleasurable connections, she couldn’t be freer!

I’m writing this rubbish cause I’m having a Thought Storm,
My wording and writings, not precisely in the artform,
What can you expect from someone so lowborn?
Musical, me? I did try to learn the fluegelhorn…
Also the piano, private lessons from a Capricorn…
One lesson and he said ‘You shouldn’t bother’: with scorn!

My bank balance is getting nearer to being overdrawn…
So, I’ll not be going holidaying to climb the Matterhorn,
Or my dream, of going on a boat around Cornwalls Zawn,
Hello, I just had an attack from Shaking Shaun,
Better stop now, clear up my on the floor sandwich of brawn!

Part of The Nottingham Lads True Tales of Woe

Hehehe!

Inchcocks Odes to Why? Part Two

/ Inchie / 7 Comments

♫ Why does my heart go on beating? ♫

♫ Why does the sun go on shining,
Why does the sea rush to shore,
Don’t they know it’s the end of the world,
‘Cause, she doesn’t love me anymore, Yes…
Why do the birds go on singing,
Why do the stars glow above,
Don’t they know it’s the end of the world?
It ended when I lost your love…
I wake up in the mornin’, and I ponder,
Why sod all is the same as it was…
I can’t understand; no, I can’t understand
How life goes as crappy as it does…
Why does my mechanical heart go on beating?
Why are these eyes of mine fading,
Don’t they know it’s the end of the world,
It ended when you said, “Sod-off, goodbye!”
I often wonder, apart from Little Inchie, why? ♫

Why Am I So Soft & Gullible?

Even as a young man, I was presentable…
But, I’ve always been jealous and resentful,
Gals thought I was a standby rather than a desirable…
But my wallet was in demand… and easily emptiable!
My heartstrings were unendingly detachable!
Why these failures? It is seemingly not diagnoseable.

My hopes and dreams were terribly squashable,
I’ve always been a soft touch and deceivable…
Looking back, I find it hardly believable…
I’ve gone from cute and cuddlable,
To a failure, always, who’s always defeatable!

Thus, it must have been in my past life…
I must have lived a terrible life…
Not like this one full of strife…
Bet I was cruel, took many a wife…
I should come back a newt or other pondlife!

Why Are Liars, Usually Politicians?

Well, that’s obvious! To keep themselves out of trouble!
To save them from bursting their own financial bubble?
They overclaim all expenses by at least a tankful…
They welcome Covid cause there’s no time to be able…
For anyone to inspect their expenses table!

Why Have Aliens Not Landed Yet?

Oh, bejabbers, they may well have already; it’s verifiable!
They beam down airily…
So no spaceships to see,
So their landings are not watchable…
They interbred with the powerful, starting with Blair…
This may sound to you ununderstandable…
Their original plan was to make us all vilifiable!

Intending to use mind control, somnambulistically!
Naturally, they all mind-melt and speak multilingually,
They soon spotted how humans communicate clumsily…
Using missiles, tanks, napalm, and mercenary armies…
Killing ourselves off with starving… very silly!
We are killing ourselves off, although it will be bloody!

We tell our people not to smoke or use a narghilly…
Not to eat fatty or sweet food, willy-nilly…
We do have variability but very little tranquillity…
We intercommunicate bolshy, cruelly, not friendly?
We lie, mislead, cheat, mostly circumlocutorily,
Many aliens planet folks have visited Earth, spookily,
It’d be a lot more, counting the imaginary!

Why Are More People Going Potty?
Answer: Alto-Egos, Id’s and Chakras

Alto-Ego-Inchy: No doubt about the answer to this question…
But it’s a long one, which calls for honesty and a confession…
I’ve studied this query for years; it became an obsession,
Since the Roman invasion to England’s 1867–1869 recession
I was in the body of a chap called Adrian…
Wall builder, I think, a stonemason…

The effect of Alto-Egos, Id’s and Chakras, combined,
Control our allotted specimen, usually a human,
Occasionally a half and half, unknown, with a warped mind,
But we can handle and master humans, aliens of any kind.
I am the truth, reality… I rarely speak what’s on my mind…

We Alto Egos go on for years, the insane is our possession,
When the human snuff it, we move on to Sherlock Holmesian…
To torment another losing it, sad foccinaucinihilipilification,
Alto-Egos, Id’s, and Chakras rule we’re not Antichristian,
We are not Czechian, Australian, Midlothian or Arizonian!

We roam the Universe to torment the deserving,
Deserving meaning one demented, their mind flailing,
Fair enough, we do some deducing, defacing and coercing…
But only of the brain, physical problems are not out kind…
Like with Inchcock, no wonder he’s going out of his mind!
I’m actually getting to feel sorry for him, I find…
But don’t tell anyone, it’s a bit embarrassing…

We Three unknown, misunderstood missionaries, are King…
Humans will never understand us unless they are tripping,
Our tasks, as laid out for us, to stop anyone helping…
Give pain, frustration, depression with maintaining…
If noise bothers Inchcock, we make sure it is piercing!
If he leaves the tap running… this is called interfacing…
We keep him busy with something else; I can’t help laughing!
Then the hot water will be cold, so no showering…
Little things like this make out job so satisfying!

 I fang You!

Part of the Inchies: Make Them Laugh, In Ode Series.

Inchcock Today

/ Inchie / 9 Comments

Inchcock Today

Fings ain’t too good. But I’m absolutely fed up with hearing myself moan and waffle on about things. So, I won’t!

Photos from yesterday and today…

Carer… erm… Sorry, I’ve forgotten her name.

Intercom screen (Yes, it worked!)

Today

Got up late today. Then, remembered that the Iceland delivery came yesterday! Thought the Iceland delivery was due, so took this snap of the bitterly cold mornings view and shot (Hehe!), well hobbled into the wet room to ready the things for the ablutioning.

Back into the kitchen to make a brew of Glengettie. Took another snap of the moon I spotted. I sometimes notice these things!

Ten minutes or so later, I spotted that I had not turned on the kettle at the power socket. Various words of self-derision were spouted.

Waiting for the kettle again, I took this snap of the City Hospital in the morning mist. I made the brew and took it with me into the wet room to save time. As the Carer is due shortly. So I still had to rush the session a  bit. But it didn’t help; in fact, it took me longer than it usually does. The task of stopping the bleeding from one particular shaving cut took yonks. Then, I needed the Porcelain Throne.

Harold’s Haemorrhoids had been bleeding so much I cracked the dried blood as I took off the Protection Pants! But they did a great job of holding things in. Good job. I hadn’t put the Morrison ones on; I think they would not have coped with this flood. Of course, another half-hour lost sorting, medicating and cleaning up! Hey-Ho

Waiting for the somewhat late Carer to arrive, I went on CorelDraw to make some graphics up. Gawd, I spent hours on it. Everything took even longer than usual, and I made a couple of cock-ups by shaking in my right hand. And they were sorted out with pure luck. I’d frozen CorelDraw altogether! Not the foggiest idea how I did so; just blessedly relieved that I managed to.

A landline call came in. I thought it might be Sister Jane. But no! It was Meridian Care’s top office. The Carer would be late coming. Nay bothers, I pressed on with the graphicationalisationing and Accifauxpas making. But did manage to do a couple of graphics done in advance. Before two, I say two carers arrived. Never been done so quickly. Treated the gals, and off they shot off, taking my waste bags to the chute with them. I thank you!

Already late in the day now, I pressed on with another graphic. I don’t want to show them directly, or it just might spoil the enjoyment of my multitudinous host of followers. Sometimes they both visit my site on the same day.

WHOOPSIEDANGLEPLOP – ACCIFAUXPAS!

As I proceeded in a Westerly direction, to my dismay…
Towards the front room with the food on the tray…
Do I really need to say?
Shaking Shaun arrived, and my grip on the tray gave way…
I dropped the lot, ruining hopes for this horrible Saturday!
I don’t think I reacted ballistically…
But, my self-annoyance rose dramatically!
Fetched the cleaning stuff from the wet room quickly…
Where I saw my undrunk cold mug of Glengettie!
I got the cleaning up done, very carefully,
The job was painful, annoying, and most stressfully…
I didn’t get Humpty, only with myself, quite rightly…
But things changed to almost getting tearfully…

I stubbed my toe getting back up off of the floor!
Hit my elbow in doing so; now that was also sore!
The Dark Depression took over, to my discomfiture!
I was testing my own mental infrastructure…
Am I mad, I thought… everything I do, withers, for sure!
Silly thoughts reigned… about my constant failure…
The rest of the day, the depression was wearing and dour!
Huh! I suddenly realised I’d not taken a shower!

Moments ago, went in to make another brew, indeed…
So, now I’ve got to sort myself out with another feed…
My energy, concentration limits I exceed…
First, there is another job to do, a regular need…
Even if my logicality and thought power do recede…
Got to finish and post this Ode, I must heed,
I hope that shortly, sanity will intercede?
Whoops, it’s time that I wee’d!

The Nottingham Lads True Tales of Woe

Inchcock Today – Just a graphic wot I made

/ Inchie / 27 Comments

Billum treats Inchcocks Ailments!

Bill & HRH

Lobotomy Sorted Out The Problems

HRH Lisa, Problem Sorter Outer, Ether-Carer to Inchcock, Electrician & Nurse (and a cracking looker) was at hand throughout the operation. First Aid box at the ready. Backing up professor Billum all the way.
The electrics and life monitorings were handled by Alan.

Billum prepared for the removal of the brain. Amazingly, Inchcock felt not a single pain! He was put at rest, by HRH covering his head area in Phorpain, and giving him an iced lolly.
The kindness showed by Billum, was gobsmacking. (They actually had to smack his gob to bring him round later, when refitting the brain and reattaching his head; but that’s for part two to come later.) Billum had thought of everything beforehand, he’d been planning this procedure for over two days, in his glasshouse laboratory.
He explained that when the brain comes out, Inchcock may not notice any difference, but not to worry.

Because a false moustache, spectacles, hearing aids, a missing many teeth plastic mouth, and a BO spray would be adorned on the brain straight away; so that it would feel at home without Inchcocks mass of blubber and accoutrements surrounding it.
He even supplied mini-walking sticks, crutches, and had the foresight to keep giving the brain a clout now and then, so, as he named him, Brian the Brain would not miss Inchcocks pains from tumbles, walking into things ad the desperate pain from the overactive bladder, Brilliant!

I’m afraid this will have to be caught up with later, because Inchcock’s eyes are too bad to continue, sorry. He may have to skip a blog or two, or just put a few words on. The poor old git is not too good at the moment. The eyes and bladder are the two main reasons.

Professor Billum started with Inchcock’s worst affected area, naturally the brain, but Billum had to take it out first.

Cheers, each.