Ode – Page 42 – Inchie Today

WordPressers in the Play Park – Clarification Required please

What were these three up to in the park?

Part of their fitness routine, or were they having a lark?

Was it a party, or am I wide of the mark?

Were they awaiting the arrival of the loan shark?

Marissa was supplying the musical melody, with her bassoon,

Were Shirl and Mike on another honeymoon?

We need to know, and very soon,

So we can rib them, this very afternoon!

MarissaLj

All WordPress Blogger Experts and models used in the production of this graphicalisation did so voluntarily and without expectancies of any financial reward. Only in search of fame and the opportunity to display their none-crude abilities to take the piss out of other WordPress Bloggers. Honestly!

I get so excited you know…

Being a handsome man, healthy, educated and debonair too,

Of course, that was years ago, when I wasn’t always running to the loo,

I could handle women, money, passing wind and Vindaloo,

I’d put my socks on, bend down and drink ale without any ballyhoo!

Things would not be like this for long, I knew.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _

1959 I visited a fortune teller; one look at my palm and she cried,

I used to be able to handle finances and food that was fried,

Many requests for a girls cuddle were not denied,

Parts of my body had not yet shrunk, shrivelled or dried!

_ _ _ _ _ _ _

But now I’m seventy, and getting once again excited,

Although the body sags, and I’m very short-sighted,

With bragging, yearnings and hopes, I’m no longer blighted,

When something is happening, I don’t get invited,

Less hassle and bladder retention you see, I find I am delighted!

_ _ _ _ _ _ _

I feared my memory going if you get me drift?

But it went all the same, and my hearing’s gone adrift,

Behind with the rent now, I’ve become a spendthrift,

At least, there’s no more working the graveyard shift!

_ _ _ _ _ _ _

Excitement comes more frequently and easier nowadays,

Getting on the right bus, and my spirits will raise,

Getting through the day without setting flat ablaze,

Excitement comes in any forms and ways,

Having the time to just stargaze,

Ready for the end of days!

No Inchcock was harmed damaged or sanitised during the writing of this crap

Final Epitaph creation problems

Ode about my Solicitors. (Using the term loosely!)

Ode about my Solicitors

I had, to sell my house, and was recommended to use FraserBrown,

Which has been as pleasant, as when my heart valve broke down,

They asked for items for proof of ID, so I took them to their offices in Town,

I thought they would get better and took it with a frown,

They called to ask for them again, told them I taken them down.

……………………

A letter followed asking for them again, and the next night…

A bloke rang me up; I told him he’s got them at their Nottingham site,

They assured me they now had everything; I was high as a kite,

Until the following weekend, another letter asking again, I was in a plight!

……………………

Another call at their offices and everything would be good I was told again,

They were becoming annoying and rather a bane,

Then they sent complicated paperwork for me to sign again,

And yet letter requesting what I’d took in already – now I felt disdain!

……………………

Next, a mammoth questionnaire for me to fill out,

Demands for me to mend the boiler, list things I know nowt about,

Where are the underground sewers? Four pages of it to fill out,

Planning permission needed? FENSA certificate? I’m getting the runabout!

…………………….

Fitted units? Light fittings? Outdoor area? Access? – I cannot cope,

I’ve asked Steve from Age, can he help and give me some hope?

No answer from him yet, I’ll get none or soft soap,

I cannot handle this angst, suppose I’m a bit of a dope,

Rather than deal with these people, I’d prefer a Cystoscope!

The End (Is nigh).

No Solicitors were harmed in any way during the creation of this crap Ode. (Shame!)

Thoughts in Ode of Solicitors

Thoughts of Solicitors

The poor downtrodden lawyers and solicitors so poor,

Why do they lie, cheat, overcharge and then lie some more?

They charge you with more venom, than a matador,

£100 an unnecessary letter, often even more!

No wonder house sellers are becoming so poor,

So I write this in the style of a Troubadour,

Convinced my blood & money they will extract some more,

They’re covetous philargyrists with a love of money for sure,

They concentrate on profit, giving little thought to the law,

They waffle on in search of gain, a little like Lord Haw Haw,

They lie so well, and are without morals or principals any more,

They are more unpopular than politicians, hustlers to the core,

Greedy, obnoxious, they’re like a financial Omnivore,

When you have to deal with them, you feel bitter and sore,

Thy defend the guilty scum, not as a benefactor,

But in their desire for profit are worse than any chancellor,

But these crude lying animals need affection, care and esprit de corps,

They remind me of Stalin, Hitler and the local whore,

Their desire for cash is not their fault I’m sure,

Just as I positively feel there is no cure,

We ought to assassinate some… and then some more!

No Solicitors or Lawyers were harmed in the creation of this Ode… Pity!

Some of Inchcock’s Annoyances last week

Some of Last Weeks Annoyances

The hearing-aids hid themselves, once again,

Lost me Co-op card, another pain,

Little Inchy bleeding and leaving a sticky stain,

More laundry to do, but I don’t complain,

Phones Steve Age UK, BJ and Sister Jane,

None of them answered me, all calls were in vain,

The solicitor lied to me once more, they’re inhumane,

My confidence in them now disparaging and slain,

Fire alarms two, the lifts broke down again,

Of mending me heating, the Council are uncertain.

–

Thursday I dropped me dinner on the floor,

Bent down to pick it up hit me head once more,

I went the NHS drop in centre to get cream for the sore,

But they had closed down, so went to the chemist for some more,

The bleeding must be stopped that’s for sure,

The chemist applied a ligature,

Yet this day there was to be more!

Shame on my part, as I broke the law,

Fed the pigeons, got a right lecture like never before,

To the policeman for mercy I did implore,

He let me off, and I went home feeing guilty and furthermore…

Fell over in the bedroom right onto the floor!

I just don’t care any-more!

The Marissa and Mike Mystery Photo?

The Marissa Bergen & Mike Steenedski Mystery Photo

Have Marissa and Mike started to confabulate again?

Has Mike finally cleared his system of the Claret then?

Has he started working again, or is calumny resounding?

Why is Marissa not giving her drums and guitar a good pounding?

Why is she not doing the laundry, cooking or ironing?

She lies there looking all desirable, appealing and tempting like,

Why is she being photographed through the window by Mike?

Can anyone explain this Mysterious scenario,

If they know, will they please tell us so?

Then we bloggers can have ammunition,

To retaliate verbally and keep down the rumours,

Of naughty things going on, and give vent to our humours!

I know this little ode is utter crap,

But I’m not well at all and in a bit of a flap,

I wanted to write summat clever, witty and that,

But I couldn’t and feel a right prat,

Alright then sorry… I’ll get me hat…

It’s been a Funny Old Life.. Part 3 Updated

I started with nothing, I’ve got most of it left.

At shoplifting Mother was rather deft,

Eventually they charged her with fraud and theft,

At this I wanted to cheer and wave a wheft,

But she got off with it, and I was bereft!

I left school, started working at just fourteen,

Mother reappeared on our then contented scene,

‘Cause for several years she’d hardly been seen,

This meant I’d be broke before I was fifteen,

After most of our valuables were never again seen,

Mother disappeared to stay with Auntie Eugene,

Who later also went bankrupt we did gleen,

It not that she was nasty, cruel or mean,

She’d just leave you without a flipping bean!

But she’s sadly missed by many you see,

By magistrates, solicitors and many P and DC,

There’s often times when comes back in me memory,

In me nightmares usually.

Dad knew for Mam’s next return I had no yearning,

And she would return when I started earning,

And when she did, things would be worsening,

Bank manager and wallet regretted her returning,

The neighbours got new locks, tongues were burning,

How to lock their doors they were relearning!

She told us she was a changed person nowadays,

She’d become kinder and changed her ways,

Having just avoided the judge sending her to Strangeways,

After with the police the pillock did liaise,

The magistrates let her off with probation – this did amaze,

And that meant the restart of Dads and my malaise,

She soon started selling t’neighbours none-existent holiday chalets,

We were really worried when she offered Dad praise,

She soon ended up back in her old ways.

Conning, shoplifting, bingo halls, fag-end collecting, even conned a solicitor,

She became locally famous for that one hereafter,

The magistrates this time, got even dafter,

Let her off again – in the courtroom there was much laughter!

They gave her a flat, and furnished it, believe that can you?

The rent they paid half of it for her, and the gas bills too,

Half of the electricity bills, and scrubbed her debts it’s true!

Arranged for her flat to be decorated and furnished all through,

As she left the Court, she smiled widely and off she flew,

I imagined her inwardly shouting “Yabbadabbadoo”!

And Crime Don’t Pay some idiot will tell you!

I suppose I’ll meet her again in heaven maybe I think so a bit,

I’d better prepare for when I go and snuff-it,

I’ll spend all me dosh now, before she can get her hands on it!

Bless Her – See yer in a bit Mam!

T’Other day Inchcock suffered from Chronic writers block…

So off he went, to town to buy himself a new alarm clock,

Socks, medications, ear-muffs and a new frock,

Antiseptic cream, hearing-aid batteries and butterscotch,

Painkillers and wound coverings for his bleeding crotch,

Hearing aid-batteries, pipe baccy and a bottle of scotch,

Pawnbrokers, put his shoplifted Cartier watch into hoch,

Money in his pocket, proud as a Peacock,

Went to get the bread and the bone of a ham hock,

At the Nottingham beach festival he thought this I’ll de-frock,

He grabbed her round middle and thought poppycock!

As he cuddle up to her he got an electric shock!

Now he resides in a police cell-block,

Feeling right fool and great pillock!

Inchcock in Prose – It’s been a Funny Old Life… Part 4

It’s been a Funny Old Life… Part 4

It started getting confusing, when I was born,

To mother I was unwanted, a bit of a thorn,

So she kept running off, not that it made me mourn,

I thought at first it was due to me, and felt forlorn,

Then the Police called to see her one morn,

Regarding a Christmas club funds being overdrawn,

But she’s gone hours earlier at the break of dawn!

The chase was on, thus her reputation did aggrandise,

They caught her 9 months later, and believed her lies!

Dad took her back in, even I saw that was not wise,

Things kept disappearing, before our very eyes,

She was repeatedly off again, someone else to victimise,

Everyone she conned liked her, hard to realise,

They just trusted her, and that was very unwise!

Many callers over the years wanting to know where she’d went,

Loan sharks after money they had foolishly lent,

Lawyers, Window cleaners, neighbours giving vent,

Bookmakers, grocers even cobblers where she had overspent,

All seeking recompense to some extent,

Disappointed and sad they were as they went!

When I was fourteen, I started work and earned some cash,

She was back in our midst, quick as a flash!

Of the massive £3.3s.3d a week I earned, not balderdash,

She only charged me £2 for board, I was taken abash!

Shame she nicked me clothes, LP’s and any spare cash!

It didn’t matter where I tried to hide me stash,

She always found it – and flogged it quick as a flash!

Finally, many years later, she was up before the beak,

Conning the judge and jury whenever she did speak,

She walked from court without giving a single pique,

A richer woman, new flat with rent paid every week,

No compensation to pay, Gas paid and benefits increased,

Went straight to the bookmakers tongue-in-cheek,

Bet on the second favourite, that won by a streak!

But despite all her misdemeanour’s, and folks she did screw,

Those she’s conned lent her more money, yours truly too!

Gave her furniture, money to pay for her electricity, it’s true,

Despite her utility bills being paid by benefits she did accrue!

Crime doesn’t pay? It did for one, I can tell you!

Yet fond memories remain of those bitter days,

Of Mother and her strange odd ways,

She was much loved by waifs and strays,

She’s give them 6d of her last shilling in many ways,

Just a shame the shilling was nicked… oh happy days!