Inchcock Ode to Incongruence

The cause, the reasons for my permanent incongruence?
Are numerous, physical and mental… with many a covariance,
Trying to work why out is nefarious and needs diligence…
Something nowadays, that can cause mental dissidence,
Which does little for my becoming extinct self-confidence.

Although years ago,
This wasn’t so…
But, there you go…
What do I know?
More than you think, since I started going loco!

Being as deaf as a doorpost, eyesight failing makes one tense,
But other ailments to worry about… and this makes sense…
Eases the worrying; Neuropathy, toothache… hence…
You can’t worry about them all simultaneously, no chance!

Vascular Dementia Doreen helps you to feel at ease…
Back Pain Brenda, Shuddering Shoulder Shirley may tease,
Arthur Itis and Colin Cramps, bring Ohh’s Argh and Oyee’s,
Which reminds me, I still waiting for the operation on the knees?
Then the Cataracts, Saccades and Glaucoma bother to be eased?
So that proved it, the very though all of these…
I’d forgotten all about my being so obese!
Oh boy, I’m so easy to please!

Carer Richard said; Why don’t you try clairvoyance?
Not sure what the lad meant in this instance…
I’m sure I don’t know anyone called Claire Voyance,
I told him this for a laugh… but just got back annoyance!

The rare times I get to the stage of semi-confidence…
I always get a Whoopsiedangleplop as comeuppance!
Yet, I remain permanently in a state of calmness pursuance…
Without much success, I usually suffer appurtenance.

Always a bother, using the Porcelain Throne or convenience,
The fungal lesion or Haemorrhoid Harold bleed in an instant,
The evacuating product is either liquid or rock-hard… renitent?
The time and the energy that has to be spent…
Time on the throne, then cleaning up, medicating is exorbitant!
But, most of all, it’s frustrating and a damned nuisance!

Incidentally, what does it mean, incongruence?

I can’t believe in reincarnation; it’s not common sense…
It may indicate the errors in my previous life were immense!
This time, I just had to pay for it, take my punishments?
This pathetic existence might be the Lord’s chastisement?

I wonder if so, who the hell I was to deserve this life?
So full of failure, depression, no wife, and strife…
Was I Stalin, Hitler or Mao Si Tung in my previous life?
Muammar Gaddafi, Maximilien Robespierre, or Mack the Knife?
Why did I get a minuscule willy and a life of strife?
Nothing in the brain to replace the missing hard drive?
Come think of it… am I actually alive?

Hang on, I’ll check…

Yes, I’m almost sure!

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 Tips & Advice – In Ode

They incarcerate the wealthy youngsters here now, aged only 50, a pity,
Cause with my handicaps, now I’m not so nifty,
Then there’s my ticker, neuropathy, deafness and cecity,
But I’m not jealous, bothered or show any causticity,
I have Whoopsidangleplops, Accifauxpas and await the next atrocity,
To survive in here, you must not show any mordacity,
Indeed, you must forget to display any animosity!

Anyone arriving wishing to survive will find the tips and advice in ode below, of some value, I hope… Good Luck!

WHAT TO EXPECT, DO AND SURVIVE

Put to the back of your mind, hopes, plans or anything ambitious,
With leaking windows… it helps to know about being amphibious,
If you are old or ill, some of the Carers are delicious!
Get in with them for any chance of being auspicious!
Resist doing anything whatever that could be audacious!
Make sure you cannot be considered cretaceous,
For depressions in here are somewhat enormous,

No matter what you do or say, it’ll be classed as contentious,
Don’t ever mention the balcony’s winds being blusterous,
Or not being able to hear the fire alarm being hazardous,
Cause they’ll fit you a pillow shaker alarm, it’s not desirous,
It runs on Wi-fi, the false alarms are regular and continuous,

Advice for the intercom and heaters are both contradictious,
Understanding them, you need to be intelligent and perspicacious,
Act a thicko with thick skin, should certainly be advantageous,
One benefit, mind, if you are ill enough, the nurses are curvacious!
You’ll be too old, so no opportunities to try to get amorous!

Contemptuousness and sarcasm seem to be contagious,
Another thing, silence can prove somewhat meritious,
Forget about being doing right and being conscientious,
Best to concentrate, on just staying alive and conscious,

Faux pas and Whoopsiedangleplops, try to keep uncomplicitous
Tending towards being garrulous can be jeopardous,
To anyone not wanting to be sneered at by those sequacious,
Never show signs of being boisterous,
Best to stay looking bored and innocuous,
They like it that way, and when you get on the wrong bus!

No need to worry if you are regularly flatuous,
I assure you that affliction affects 90% of us!
If the nurse calls cause your bottom’s furunculous,
Grit your teeth, and try to look hebetudinous!
Try not to overdo the acting humorous,
Never gossip about anything calumnious!
Or you may find yourself considered complicitous!

Part Of Inchcock’s Make Em Laugh-In-Ode Series

Plans For My Next Failed Escape Bid!

Last evening, my beautiful Caring Carer, Julia and I made a plan to enable my escape from this lockdown in the flat, and get outside, and have a hobble into Sherwood! Thus I can avoid the Obergruppenfhüreress’s and Lap-Top Dancers, Deana and Julie, on my way out!

After Julia had tended to my medicationalisationing, she asked me the questions about what meds I’d taken other the those on the list, filled in her report (That’s the one that no one has ever read yet!). Checked on the supply of drugs in the kitchenette drawer, she explained her plan for my escape from the lockdown. Julie departed, taking the waste bags with her, to the rubbish chute for me. Bless her cotton socks! And leaving an elderly dithering tenant, feeling sad at her departure. (I always think this way when a good, kind carer goes me, Tsk!) I decided to write down the scheme for Wednesdays Great Escape to Sherwood! I had a sense, a feeling, that Julia’s ideas were going to be so doable and workable.

Unfortunately, within seconds of the Carers’ departure, I had an unwelcome ‘Haze-Over’ attack. Not sure how long it lasted, but I seem to have lost possibly a couple of hours of memory. (Although they did partly return in the morning, which is not a rarity) Later on, I found myself sitting in the recliner with the TV on. With crumbs over my large blobby-like belly (bits of Twiglets in the folds? As I woke and returned to life, of sorts, I was feeling great! Almost clear-headed. And I soon worked out that I still had time to catch the bus down to Sherwood… But, no!

Closing down the computer to get things ready for my breakout, I saw several emails coming in. One from Amazon, concerning two deliveries, the one in the photo was the tracking of the Morrison delivery, which I was confident that I’d made it for next week… It was apparently just a few minutes away from being delivered. The other regarding deliveries that are due tomorrow… This put the kybosh on my escaping today and now tomorrow as well! Obviously, another Whoopsiedangleplop on my behalf!

Hello, the delivery is here now… I’ll be back…

Hehehe! I’m back! A young lady delivered the four parcels of fodder, putting them through the doorway for me. I fell in love with her straight away, had it not been that I am about 60 years older than what she looked, six inches shorter, wore PPs, was bald, sight-impaired, deaf, and nearly as attractive to women as Lillie Savage… I momentarily thought about asking her if she fancied a cuddle, massage or petting… but I thought better of it no point in risking prison at my time of life.

I thanked her, and off she shot. I took the bags through to the kitchenette, and I popped into the wet room for a wee-wee.

And this one was one of the worst I’ve suffered for flipping weeks, or even longer!

I tore at my clothing to get at Little Inchie, dropped the trees on the floor, and prepared for the torrent to come…

But it didn’t! I could feel the urine building up increasingly more painful pressure… all I could do was wait for it to do its own thing – any pushing from me was just unbearably hurtful, so I waited…

And waited a little longer. Sang a song, whistled, prayed… Eventually, it felt like a couple of days later, the tsunami evacuated!  Agony! Whoosh! Splashback like never before, I had to take a shower to clean up my anaemic looking flabby body and then get the wet room disinfected.  I now seriously fear the next wee-wee session! But the relief when it had finally passed almost sent me dizzy, if that’s the word.

Now, having spent an hour or so weeing and sorting things out, I realised that the frozen food in with the other groceries will not be frozen any longer! I hastened to get at it as quickly as I could to get in the freezer.

I gave the big toe a bashing against the server trolley wheel – Now I’m getting annoyed with things! 

However, I continued to get the purchases away, starting with the now unfrozen frozen foods. Luckily, there were only two frozen items, well, previously frozen items to go in the freezer.  The now liquid in the bag Twister lollies, and a box of beef in gravy, I poured them into the freezer… A joke there, did you see that? Despite such a bad morning, I’m intent on keeping up my pecker! Although, I am not too confident of my chances after the next wee-wee arrives. Ahem!

The sight of the ready-made meals brought a warm glow to my stomach. WW Chillie and wedges, Roast Vegetable Risotto, and the Chicken dinner substituted with Beef & Black beans, Shepherd’s pie, and Creamy Chicken & Leek. Even though they had not got any of those, I ordered, and they were all substituted. Morrison Cottage pie, by Kirsty’s red potato Cottage Pie (might be nice that?).

Not that I seemed bothered this time, the memory of the disastrous tsunami-wee-out now! Imagine that happening when I was out and about! The thought of it makes me shudder!

Haha! The fridge stocks are looking healthier now, anyway. Milk, bread in the freezer, I’ll certainly not starve for a bit.

Took this shot of the end car park through the balcony window. It was far too windy for me to open the window.

Oh, oh, I want another pee! With apprehension, I took it. Well, well well, what a difference that was! Heavy flow, but nothing oke as vicious as the last one was! I was delighted with the improvement and almost total lack of any pain. Shame about the lengthy PMAD (Post-Micturition-After Dribbling).

Views From The Kitchenette Window

I viewed the colourful evening skies,

Somehow they appeared to be wise,

And I observed clouds like eyes,

Winter’s coming; I’ll need to acclimatise!

The photo above, lips and two eyes, large in size,

Those clouds make me want to enigmatise?

I find myself also wanting to somatise,

Natures beauty makes me realise…

Mankind knows nothing, weather forecasts-wise,

I see amazing skies, from this flat in the highrise,

These views make me want to prioritise…

To stop, look, dream, and rhapsodise!

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Hunger Pangs Satisfied

Made some cheesy instant mash potato and two beef pasties and plated them. Dolloped some Hickory Smoked BBQ sauce and a few slices of bread. A pot of custard & jelly (Classy, innit?), and another pot of lemon mousse. Nowt fanciful on that plate, but I ate the lot. Taste Rating 7.2/10.

Part Of The Nottingham Lads True Tales Of Woe Series

Inchcock: His First Sporting Triumph – Well, I say triumphs…

Inchcock: His First Sporting Triumph

Well, not exactly

I dreamt of playing for the school at football,
I couldn’t dribble or kick a ball, but that didn’t matter at all,
The pneumonia epidemic had stuck in the fall,
Not many players are well enough and available at all,
Then, from desperation, the coach did call!
You’re in the team, cup match, we need a win, vital,
Having to ask me, I knew he felt contemptible.

I dare not let them down, or I’d suffer a keelhaul,
Matchday, I arrived first, at my 4’3″ tall,
Regarding the rules, my knowledge was minimal,
Cold, raining, and then the fog began to fall…
Players, neither team had the wherewithal.

An eight-a-side to play agreement was made
We took to the field, the rain began to squall,
“You’re in goal Chambers!” Any position I’ll be ineffectual,
I jumped but couldn’t reach the crossbar at all,
What an introduction to school football!

The fog got heavier, and the coaches got conflictual,
We were down 13-0, the coach said it was only 12!
A fight ensued, but injuries were only minimal,
They decided to go into the gym, to play football,
When we got inside, and we’d lost some footfall…
Lads from both sides absconded, no longer visual,
Anyway, someone had nicked the ball!

Part Of The Nottingham Lads Tales Of Woe – In bad Rhyme Series

ODE TO SUNDAY 24th OCTOBER

ODD SNIPPETS OF LITTLE INTEREST

06:15hrs, I woke up, thinking something was weird… eerie,

Not knowing what it was, was annoying me…

Ah, that’s it; I didn’t want a wee-wee,

Well, this is a change, rare, causing infelicity,

I rose and pressed on with my best ability,

I spotted the foot rot on my bloated toes nails; that’s a pity!

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

TOOK A BAD PHOTO OF THE VIEW

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MORNING CARER ARRIVED

Two carers came in, without ringing,

Team leader Natalie, and a new gal to me,

Her name was Cherie or Charlie.

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COMPUTERISATIONING

I was doing so well,

But it was stopped by the intervention…

By the dreaded Blue Screen.

What Is The Blue Screen Of Death? BSOD Explained.

Something about losing a memory configuration?

It did not receive my appreciation!

I responded by turning it off and making an absquatulation!

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TO THE KITCHENETTE

Niggled by the problems using Corel,

I got Josies’ meal prepped, then, Oh, hell!

Cutting the vegetables, as I usually do,

Carrots, water chestnuts and others too,

And getting them into Josies’ chilli stew,

Well, what do you think I did do?

Cut my finger, the bleeding didn’t last,

I put on an Elastoplast, but I reminded steadfast!

Got extra sauce made, added to Josies’ repast,

Stayed in the kitchen, so’s not to get sidetracked,

It worked at first, and that’s a fact…

It began to cook, smelling good, and I forecast…

This one might taste better than the last!

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

MADE A BREW OF GLENGETTIE TEA

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

JOSIES’ LUNCH DONE & DELIVERED!

I delivered it to  Josies’ door on time again, not late!

The gal seemed to like the look of and the smell on the plate,

No chance of her going to abrogate,

Hope she likes it, and it’s adequate!

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BACK TO THE KITCHENETTE

Taking the camera back, the Peripheral Neuropathy…

Shook the arm painfully, it does that  with aperiodicity,

Uncongenialy this time, heartily, with duplexity,

Muggins here dropped the camera; what a pain…

Caught it and droppsied it again!

Resulting in my taking two involuntary two photographs

Amazingly, they were better than when I intended to take them!

Hahaha!

Unfortunately, I took them on my way down to the floor!

I now have a very annoyingly slight bruise on the top of my head,

For only a little while,  blood it did shed,

I swore a smidge, and I had a rest, instead!

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EVENING NOSH MADE & IMBIBED

Cooked, and this is how it looked,

A substituted meal from Sainsbury’s again!

The taste was not too good either; it sucked!

Afterwards, I got stomach pains!

Maybe I’d over-cooked?

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Part of the Nottingham Lads True Tales Of Woe – In Rhyme (Of sorts)

Inchcock: Things are Changing Too Fast!

THINGS ARE CHANGING TOO FAST

Things are really’ altering so fast,
This used to be compared to the distant past,
The gap is getting shorter now; how much longer can we last?
At social events, people still get stabbed and glassed,
Anit-maskers march, after getting amassed,
Planes and cars still get hijacked,
A record number of sex offenders surpassed,
Jokes, affection, empathy are wisecracked,
NHH actions towards the wealthy are biased!

Doctors visits, Banking one on one have to cease!
NHS underfunded, on purpose, I believe,
Old folks charged for carers; it’s beyond belief!
£70 million, and wages for Ronaldo – Good Grief!
And some old folks living on a lettuce leaf!

Only the rich remain unharassed…
Most of them dodgy and bad-assed!
The roads crumbling, not being tarmacked,
Burglars, homes still being ransacked,
Prisoners getting free medical care,
But for that, I care, I do not despair,
Father Villani says God is everywhere,
But he doesn’t believe in Jesus, drives me spare!

Kids are no longer clipped around the ear or paddy-whacked,
But that may be a good thing, in fact?
Politicians with their problem so vast…
Their expenses? Anyone checking on them here and there?
Does the auspicious Tony Blair…
Still, wear a pink brassiere?

Part of the Nottingham Lads True Tales of Woe In Rhyme (Of sorts)

By A Particularly Confused Inchcock, tonight?

Slightly depressed, wee-weeing an awful lot. Lonely and sad. Pissed-off. Fungal Lesion Bleeding. And generally feeling so sorry for himself.

He’s feeling guilty about this.

Inchcock Gets Cosmetical & Medical Upgrade!

Billum from near Ohio said he could help me,
Said that he’d create medicines to make me feel pain-free!
And operate, to make me look less ugly & scary,
Of course, this could not be done for free,
There would be a discounted $150,000 fee!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

The Consultation

Nothing to worry about at all, he told me,
It’ll be painful, but very luckily,
You’re used to agony and have tolerability,
You’ve paid now, so no revocability!
Owt goes wrong, and I reject any accountability!
It may take a while, so first, you must take a wee-wee,
Operating, I don’t want to get sprayed with pee,
HRH Lisa will be assisting me!

They gave me an Aspirin and a shot of Drambuie,
They started; I prayed there would be no Whoopsies…
Or that I’d come out looking like a chimpanzee,
I wasn’t worried, not to any degree,
I could soon be pain-free and good looking? Yipee!
As I drifted off, I could see HRH Lisa, looking at me,
They told me I came around the following Tuesday!
But no mirrors could I see?
Billum said you look fine, you should write a ditty,
And gave me a mug of Glengettie!
No time for chinwag or causerie,
“I must fly, another patient waiting to see me”,
With that, off he did flee!
I joined Lisa on the settee,
She was very kind to me,
Gave me a mirror, I saw the reality…
Still, yer don’t like to complain, do yer?

Moody Moon Machinationings

THOUGHT STORMS RAGE

After taking my regular waking up wee-wee,
I made a brew of Thompsons Punjana tea,
The clouds broke, and the moon I could see,
This cheered me, sort of kept me company,
The Thought Storms started, with verbosity!

Many a guilty, fearsome, scary, memory,
Happy events too, but not too many,
Like the first time I ever drank Drambiuie,
Four years old, and already drinking, I got tipsy,
Knowing no better, I sang, and got ditsy!
That was the extent of youth being glitzy!

No schooling, so for me, no university,
Then the guilt, thin as a rake, I tell thee…
Until I was about forty, then adiposity,
I drank and ate with great generosity,
Dieting became needed, and a necessity,
But I ignored this, with great pomposity,
I grew fatter, wobblier with sumptuosity,
So ashamed of my vast voluminosity!
Went bald in my twenty’s, but no toupee,

Seeking girls, I thought was my duty,
To get snogging them on the settee,
Kitchen, coal house, anywhere would do me,
Plump, skinny, brown-haired or a blondie,
I recall much pleasure and congeniality,
Often spoilt by my addiction to alcoholicity,
Sometimes I was lucky, finding edacity,
I recall Grizelda, big gal, great voracity,
We shared a perfect simultaneity!

Thoughts were rattling, am I going loopy?
They eased off, as I needed another pee,
One thing though, I can guarantee…
They’ll be back again, to torment me!

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Part Of The Nottingham Lads True Tales of Woe In Rhyme

Inchcock’s Porcelain Throne Marathon – Nothing witheld (Hahaha!)

Tuesday 19th October 2021

My Porcelain Throne Marathon

Double-Barreled

Agony would best describe this session!

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Sat sitting, utilising the WordPress Blogosphere,

Facebook played up, it went a bit queer,
Problems were slowly driving me crazier,
Then things started to get somewhat peskier,
I got distracted, and this much was clear,
The innards churned and rumbled, Oh, dear!
To the Porcelain Throne, in a rush and full of fear!

Rock-solid Torpedo, stuck halfway; what a plight!
I struggled to free it, pain to expedite,
Harold’s Haemorrhoids I did excite!
They stung and bled, more than a mite,
The crossword, 6-letter word, trite?
The evacuating product was just too tight!
After a long painful, harrowing fight…
Suddenly, it came out alright!

Cleaned, and medicated with agility,
And a certain joyous alacrity,
But this was not the end of the activity…
Life often shows endless alterability…
A case for me, of banal carnosity!

Oh, what, an annoying bother and pain!
The evacuation had started again,
Soft as mush this time, almost liquid?
I’d no control over what it did,
Had to clean up the splatted semi-fluid,
Sessions like this are inhumane!
It was particularly stinky and horrid,
Sensations from burning pain to torrid…
The first one, reluctant, gigantic, immane!
The follow up virtually liquid, it’s insane!

A daily task, that brought me exhaustibility,
Can I claim uniqueness or exclusivity?
Or being a  fool, for Odeing with such clarity?
I think the fool bit is right, actually!

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Oded in Support of Nottingham Branch of the Bulgarian Pregnant Koala Appreciation Society

Donations Accepted. Billum somewhere near Utah.