Rambling deep thoughts from Inchcock: In pathetic rhyme

Unfortunately, old Inchcock had one of his self-pitying moods this morning.

When he found he had new boils, acne and the Furosimide induced Wee-Wees were mega-active, with the tsnunami-like splashbacks being unavoidable!

Then he checked his fluid-filled containers he calls legs…


Ah, that’s new boils on his back, bum and now new growths on his knees, as well as some more blood papsules showing on the pins!

These could be just a few reasons for his sad Thoughts Ode today? Hehehe!

jan04 2019

Created spontaniously from the mind of Nottingham City Homes Pensioner; in a moment of insanity and a blood of Furosemide induced Wee-weeing!

Christmas Day Morning: Inchcock ‘Aching All Over’

I woke up this Christmas Day Morning:

To find that the only parts of my horrendously Billy Bunter like body, that didn’t Ache or Hurt, there the left index finger and the right side of my right elbow!

I found myself singing, Johnny Kidd & The Pirates song, as Aching All Over in place of their, Shaking all over. The idea came to get some humour out of feeling so poorly, and I set about making this graphic, putting my version of the song in the yellow letters.

Dec 25 2018

Christmas morning, and all I could do was create this bit of fun.

Sad, innit?


Hope you have a laugh, and a jolly good holiday!



Inchcock’s Ode to his beloved EIBWBBBs!

Just a few thoughts and recollections about Inchies EIBWBBBs

(Evil Ironclad Boll-Weevil black biting beetles)

Dec 24 2018

Having got acquainted with my beloved EIBWBBBs, who arrived when the new windows were being fitted in the apartment, I think I would miss them now if they were to move on to another flat. We’ve had many happy times together:

Oh, how they loved the new Spare Room Window, with its holes in the filler and plaster and the cracks to hide and play in!

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Of course, the new balcony being built brought them out in their hundreds, only to be slaughtered as their Guardian, Inchcock, spent hundreds of pounds of the last eight months of their sojourn in flat 72!


Above and below, the EIBWBBBs favourite hideout, the Wet Room. With its holes in the wall where could escape into the kitchen to the walk-in cupboard, climb in the wash basin for a swim, on the curtains so they could play at dive-bombing Inchcock when he has a shower… best of all, they had the escape route down the drain on the floor!

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When the balcony door was installed, they had a wonderful time coming in through the cracks in the plaster and holes in the sealant.

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The Kitchen was popular with the little mites.

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Not Classified but interesting!

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Before arriving here, as inmate 72 at Woodthorpe Court, I’d never seen a Weevil before in real life.

I have now!


Bless ’em!

Inchcock’s Thoughts of the Week – In abysmal imitation rhyme.

Despite, the old hero’s Diarhorrea Trotsky attack, his Accifauxpas, tumbles, toe-stubbings, Haemorrhoid Harold’s Return, his Bleeding Fungal lesion, visits from Dizzy Dennis, Shaking Shaun and Shivering Sandra, his leaving the hot tap running again, and falling asleep in his computer chair (Him, mot the tap!), and his depressed state of mind: He is proud to present this week’s Thoughts in even more pathetic rhyme than last time!

Dec 23 2018






Bank Holiday Weekend – Inchcock doesn’t like em!

Worrisit abarght Bank Holidays that upset the Old Git?

Days without any buses to get him anywhere,

Spends too much time sat in his computer chair,

Days stuck communicating with the blogosphere,


Tormenting his haemorrhoids in his recliner chair,

Global-Virgin will fail again, but this is not rare!

He thinks back to 1962, when he had an affair,

He eats, no one to talk to, he gets chubbier,

Ever increasing weight, makes him feel even barmier!


His neighbour residents go off but to where?

To visit friends and families, kids or maybe an heir?

They go to  the Bahamas, New York or Guinea-Bissau, 

He can’t afford a holiday away, that’s not fair!


Leaving the sad repugnant Gerry, lonely and in despair,

No buses, can’t get to see his Sister Jane to eat one any donair,

Then pass wind and get thrown out, with Janes usual flair.


Wondering why he is short, fat and has no hair,

No social skills, not distinguished or debonair,

His body and mind in a state of disrepair.


Feeling down, he sometimes gets out of the chair,

In search of biscuits, cheese curls or a chocolate eclair,

If his breasts get any bigger, he’ll need a brassiere!

How will he cope this weekend?

Will his depression ever mend?

I fear he may do something that might hyperextend…

His sanity, health and his stomach may well distend!

When will his eating ever end?

No, hang on, he might yet kick this depressing trend…

Red Dwarf’s on TV later – but he’ll never stay awake to the end!


The reason for this pathetic rhyme not making much sense, and the gammaticalerrors, are put down to Inchcock’s lack of education, his being stupid, his losing the battle against the Pestering Ironclad black biting mini-beetles/weevils and their being no buses for him to use.




Some Street Art Found by Inchcock on his hobbles around Nottingham

Some Nottingham Street Art

Found by Inchcock on his hobbles around Nottingham

A sign on a Queen Street bin, thanking Nottinghamians, but that depends,

If the smokers are able to understand and apprehends,

That dropping rubbish often offends,

How can they miss the bin with their nub-ends?

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Nowhere is safe from rubbish, it’s found in every nook and cranny,

Dropped by old, young, Mother, Father and Granny,

They should be fined heavily, by a dewanny,

To encourage them to stop this villany!

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This above, in Sherwood the photograph was took.

I put this one on Facebook,

Cause, and I might have been mistook,

Someone might be in shtook,

The clothes are newer than mine, new they did look!

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The bus driver, using his Vape some more,

To me, it smelt like mandarin and camphor,

But it didn’t hide the nub-ends beyond, that’s for sure,

More mini street art, what an eyesore!

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Winchester Street, 0700hrs, early in the day,

A takeaway that had gotten thrown away,

Chinese or Indian, I cannot say,

Smelt nice, but I resisted and walked away!

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On the way to the hospital, to receive some medication,

Noticed someone had vandalised this installation,

Whatever caused their aberration?

Undoubtedly a most dangerous adaptation,

I quickly moved on away without further cogitation!

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Walking through the toddlers play park,

Seeing this, put me in a mood that was dark,

More spewed up takeaway, it looked like curry and quark,

More drunken louts perhaps, what a lark.

Seems to be becoming Nottingham’s trademark!

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Along with these heart-rendering young folk,

Two mobile phones on the top left bloke,

Sorting the genuine ones out is no joke!

The City’s unused door & alleyways are getting chockablock,

One cheating one went up before the beak,

He was making more in a day, than my pension for the week,

Puts one off helping, so suffer the genuinely poor and weak,

So many of them have a Machiavellian streak!

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Again, on the City Centre’s Queen Street,

More discarded food, possibly chips and kebab meat,

For this fodder, even the pigeons did not compete,

And a rubbish bin nearby, only ten-feet!

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These unclean rubbish deposits on the street, risking poliomyelitis,

Getting bitten by the rats, colitis and conjunctivitis,

Diahorrea, hepatitis, gastritis and chorioamnionitis,

Not to mention laryngotracheobronchitis,

Or getting mugged and hit over the head and getting tinnitus!

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Nearly as sad perhaps, is the artwork in the wood,

At night, a scary part of my neighbourhood,

Young itinerants lurking, all claiming to misunderstood,

I never go there at night, I never would!

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Please do not feel that Nottingham has little else to offer you wonderful money bringing tourists on your visit to our Great City!

Nottingham Castle, expert muggers, very crafty pickpockets of varying ages, Shoplifters of such skills, 90% of them are never caught, drunken students, gun-wielding ten-year-olds, antisocial elements can be enjoyed 24 hours a day, Pavement Cyclist to knock into you so you can sue them for their Social Security or Dole money, Robin Hoods, Multicultural criminal Fraternities abound, giving you a chance to chinwag with your mugger, robber, assaultist, beggar, pickpocket or knife wielding youth in your own language. Very few policemen left to catch you being naughty and various social disease clinics!

Yes, Nottingham has all these entertainments and more, awaiting your Vist!

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Ode to the Radiators Installation Day

Ode to the Radiators Installation Day

Geroff out for the day, the Obergruppenfureress Warden said to me,

“Yer not see wot they’re doing, and you’ll be noise free”,

She took her hand from around me neck, and so I did agree,

So, on the fitting-morning, off out I did merrily flee,

Duodenal Donald hurting, Arthur Itis painful on me knee,

Also a shame it was freezing and so icy!

I set off on my hobble, with determination,

A long day out ahead, luckily I had constipation,

Walked through Sherwood, and then Carrington,

Which way to walk to the Arboretum,

I took the shortest route, this took no persuasion.

Through the Nottingham Rock Cemetary, I rested,

Thought that death should not be detested,

But life should not be unattested,

Knowledge should be shared and reinvested,

Those in the know, shouldn’t be so tight-fisted,

By gum, been a long walk, my feet are getting blistered!

Arrived at the pond, bird and duck food in my carrier,

But this did not make me feel any cheerier,

Not a duck or bird in sight,

The water had frozen-over, surrounded by dying wisteria,

l looked on the bright side, at least I haven’t got diphtheria!

A Pavement Cyclist, came from behind, far too close!

I shouted out a sarcastic verbal ‘Thank you boss’!

His reply was naughty word ridden and gross,

I answered with meaningless verbose,

Walked the other way, and bade him Adios!

I went to tower and the cannons on show,

Nibbled an apple and ate a marshmallow,

They both tasted horrible though,

It was a long way for this old one to walk, though!

Eventually, I got home, back to the flat,

To find the electricians, one was wearing a hat,

But it doesn’t matter about that,

Why did I mention it? Don’t know, I am a pratt,

They laughed at me limping, and we had a chat,

Most of which I have since forgat,

They showed me the controls, not how to use them, not that,

I wish they had, I wanted to be a copy-cat,

I asked for information,

One big bloke called me a miniature wombat,

But we soon came to a concordat,

What with me being a scaredy-cat,

I thanked them and gave each one a two-bar Kit-Kat!

The spare room Radiator

The Living Room Radiator

The Hallway Radiator

The Kitchen Radiator was of interest,

Tried opening the cupboard-door and drawer too,

I really did try my best, get to retrieve my packets of Tyhpoo,

The carving knife stuck at the draw-back, will have to do!

But let me tell you…

Damn it, the memory has gone again, I’m going Cuckoo!

Inchcock: What Needs Attention Today – In repellent rhyme!


Woke up, in the recliner where I nightly sprawl,

Nae bother from the Trotsky’s, Arthur Itis, Anne Gyna, at all,

Duodenal Donald, Dizzy Dennis were all good too, I recall,

I’d been dreaming of having holidays, first in Nepal,

Then I met a gal, and we made love in Montreal,

Then we both went off to Senegal,

Had to rush off for a Porcelain Session, it was a close-call,

No bleeding or dizzies did I befall,

Didn’t even stub my toe on the shower stall.

Should I today, go do a bungee jump, or play baseball?

Do a marathon, climb a mountain or play volleyball?

Whatever made me even think of this, I don’t know at all,

I’b be lucky to find the energy to make a phone-call!

___  __________________________  ___

The Morrison man is delivering this morning,

The dentist appointment needs confirming!

The hearing aid batteries need changing,

The filters and tubes need cleaning,

A letter came regarding the operation and grafting,

The Clinic will need telephoning,

The chair needs a repair to it’s cushioning,

The anxiolytic medication needs taking,

Now the mind is doing its own thing,

Off on tangeants, uncontrollabley wandering,

My logicality and senses are now waning,

Maniacally meandering, leaving me wondering,

Why, where, when and how, I’m still pondering,

Shame, there’s no snow, I could go tobogganing,

See? The mind is off again, outgunning…

Destroying my logicality by it’s picarooning,

It may improve, perhaps the madness is just sojourning?


Diarrhorea Dickie Attacks Again – Messy!

Diarrhorea Dickie Attacks Again – Messy!

I realised he’s back and felt quite sick,

Diarrhorea Dick attacked me so quick,

No use, medications, praying or the walking stick,

Codeine, hearing aids or an analgesic,

The rumbling Throne Sessions, messy, not thick,

The evacuated innards are certainly not, non-stick,

Had to wash so often, with bleach and carbolic.


What had caused this? The chicken drumstick?

Was it a problem that is colonic?

A bug, bad food or summat bacteriologic?

No idea what it is, but was it Deoxyribonucleic?

The flat now cannot be described as aromatic,

Rather, as putrid, gut-wrenching and chronic!

Took the Diah-Limit capsules very quick,

Their failure has proved rather catastrophic,

Nowt I try taking can do the trick,

So, I wrote this silly limerick!


Composed in the hopes of something or other, and in Support of the Outer Peruvian Three-legged Pregnant Kangaroo Appreciation Society.