Category: Rhyme

The Marissa and Mike Mystery Photo?

The Marissa Bergen & Mike Steenedski Mystery Photo

Marissa07

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

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!

It’s Been a Funny Old Life Part 3 – Prosed ponderously by Inchcock

As an ankle-snapper I had a skinny physique,

In fact they knicknamed me ‘The Pipsqeak’,

When Mam was at home, times were bleak,

She and Dad shouted and fought, they didn’t speak,

She rarley stayed home for more than a week,

To the outside loo, if one wanted a leak,

Getting the tin bath off the yard wall every week,

Demanded a certain safety-first technique.

–

Drag it into the front room in front of the fire,

Clean it up with bleach and a pad of wire,

Heating up water in kettles & pans was dire,

The use of the fire and stove I’d aquire,

To keep the bath topped up as Dad did require.

After several top-ups Dad would retire,

Then t’was my turn in the cold water in front of the fire!

–

Dry missen off with the wet towel Dad had used,

Bath back on’t wall ready fer it to be reused,

Out to the coal-house while Dad snoozed,

Chopped wood brought in coal, getting bruised,

Laid the fire for the morning – felt abused!

–

Life was how it was, so why feel sad or blue?

No hot running water, fridge or TV it’s true,

Tableclothes? The Evening newspaper would do,

Lighting the gas-lamps was risky too,

When Pennies in the meters were due…

Mam had some arcade coins, one or two!

No toilet paper for our out-side loo,

Cut-up newspaper for wiping: the memories ooh!…

Inchcock Views High-Rise Council Pensioners Flat on the 16th Floor

The other day I went to view an warden aided flat,

To get there I had to be strong and an acrobat,

Top of a hill, it was windy, glad I had me hat,

I found the City Councils Commissariat.

–

We went to look at the flat, on the 16th floor,

I noticed the kicked in panel on the front door,

The place was in a right state, very poor,

Electrics hanging off the wall down to the bare floor,

A smell lingered everywhere, a sweet sickly odour,

Noises from the Romanians living next door.

–

A distinct feeling of gloom lingered in the air,

I decided I didn’t want to live there,

Although the view from the window was fair,

I turned on a tap, the water was brown… I despair!

–

I caught the wall and the plaster shred,

A lick of paint will sort that, the Commissariat said,

That only made me cringe and exacerbate,

Then under the sink an insect zoo did await!

–

The light switch hung off the wall by its wire,

In the front room a non-working electric fire,

The ceiling peeling, electric needing a rewire,

For living here I could not aspire!

–

I told the Commissariat Thanks but I don’t think so,

She took it like a mortal lethal blow,

She scowled at me, and don’t you know…

She didn’t speak to me again and let me go.

Hey-ho!

Inchcock’s: It’s Been a Funny Old Life – Part 2

Inchcock’s: It’s Been a Funny Old Life – Part 2

Each morning there was the fire grate to clean out and renew,

Get Dad’s breakfast, he’s eat owt, porridge eggs or stew,

Then get some cash from him for groceries, not easy to do,

Boil some water for Dad to wash and shave in too,

No internet, Google, Facebook, WordPress or Yahoo,

Had to do me morning paper round while Dad ate his stew,

Back an hour later Dads time for work was due,

Off he’d go, I’d clean his pots – getting to school the next issue,

Knowing I’d get bullied and learn nowt – it’s true,

Lunch with Echo margarine or lard sarnies, Eurgh!

Out of school and rush to the paper shop, more work to do,

Back to the house to lay the fire I flew,

Dad would arrive between six and ten demanding a brew,

Light the fire make his nosh, mine is overdue,

Entertainment from the light radio, no radio Two,

Raise a laugh, The Archers and The Navy Lark too,

His language was not usually bad or blue,

But he often said: ‘You useless article you!

Inchcocks Further Thoughts on Politicians – in Prose

Further thoughts on Politicians

There’s not many that haven’t had an illicit love affair,

They are experts and tutored in spouting lies and hot air,

They dance around giving answers like Andy Capp or Fred Astaire,

Most Ministers have never worked, or known financial despair,

They fiddle expenses, get a pay rise of 9.6%, that’s so unfair,

They say the IPSA sets their salary now, they declare,

But they set the wage of IPSA of £40,400 per manager…yea?

And grant the IPSA expenses; of this the part-time IPSA are aware,

The rot set in with the crooked nihilistic, nepotistic Tony Blair.

–

Most are millionaires too, jealous… me? Now where’s me bus pass?

Cameron, and his cronies will never worry about the cost of gas,

Despite his cabinet consisting of a cruel men, an inertial mass,

PMs a group from superior stock, all unethical, bold as brass,

They are not caring, they are cruel, pitiless and crass.

_

They ought to hypnotised into being honest en mass,

They’ve taken away my few benefits, ‘cause I bought a pension,

Paid into it for fifty odd years, worse off now, makes you laugh,

It’s the weak they prey on, ignore, laugh at and harass!

–

Not for workers or pensioners, warmth, good food or an au pair,

I can’t afford a holiday or even the petrol or train fare,

No BUPA for me, just the ailing NHS hospital care,

The NHS staff are harangued and frustrated, but they really care,

MPs strut and pose, well fed, clothed, looking debonair,

While pensioners are struggling, broke, in utter despair,

They have their earnings from bribes and many an offshore share,

They sit in central heated offices, in their reclining chair,

Of others poverty, frustration and pain, they seem totally unaware!

Bless them. (Spit!)

It’s Been a Funny Old Life Part 1 – Prosed pathetically by Inchcock

I was born in late August nineteen fourty-eight,

The midwife handed me to Mam, for us to interrelate,

Mam wasn’t to happy, she was in a right two-and-eight,

Her fag ash dropped on me, as she did state,

Something the midwife to me did later relate.

–

“I don’t want it, throw it in the Trent!”,

If I keep it, I’ll not afford the rent!

Later she said my birth was an accident,

And I was not exactly heaven sent,

She lyingly said she ‘took’ to me later to her amazement.

–

She left home when I was three, leaving me and Dad,

I can’t claim this made me really sad,

She left leaving debts, that made Dad not glad,

Her leaving home became a bit of a fad,

The longest spell was four years, I wasn’t mad,

Mad and sad when she returned I was, poor lad!

–

At school, a rough one I was bullied and quite thick,

Did the shopping and cleaning, no time to get sick,

When Mam returned, I’d be cut to the quick,

She’d moan and argue giving us some verbal stick,

Another crime, and she’d do another disappearing trick.

–

She returned when I started earning ready cash,

She dipped into me pockets, leaving me abash,

Nowhere was safe to hide me stash,

She flogged off me LPs, that made me teeth gnash,

At conning folk Mother had no match!

–

The last time she absconded and ran away,

She was on the Police’s wanted list that day,

Leaving a trail of victims every which way,

Will they ever catch her people would say,

Reports came in she was in San Francisco Bay?

Or Mablethorpe, Lincoln, France or Torbay?

For many months she eluded police, kept em at bay,

Eventually she had her day in court after much delay,

My Sister well remembers that infamous day!

–

The court packed with character referers would you believe?

Mother falsly crying upon her shoplifted sleeve,

They read out the charges, it was hard to concieve,

One hundred and nineteen, twas hard to preconceive,

A tangle web of conning and stealing they did weave.

–

The man who read out the charge got fatigued after a while,

The Magistrates even raised a sneaky smile,

Court spectators nodded-off for a while,

She charmed the officials in her own conning style,

It took several days to complete the trial.

–

Found guilty, what did the Mother suckered Magistrates give?

They gave her a furnished rent paid flat in which to live,

Increased Benefits to help her pay the fine, very allevative!

This suited Mother, her being so aquisitive…

–

More to follow…

Inchcock and the Internet

Inchcock and the Internet

I’d be well and truly lost without the Internet,

Mind you, understanding it can get me in a sweat,

On getting a good reliable service I was determined and set,

That was destroyed by my using BT Internet.

_

Others tell me their providers are crap as well,

All I know is about the high cost of the BT Death Knell,

WordPress goes wonky very often, and becomes unwell,

Facebook is the same, disappearing sticking text for many clientèle,

  Google seems more stable, easier to use as well.

_

Just when you begin to master some or other task,

Updates come in, and I need my pocket flask,

No one here for me advice I can ask,

So I search the internet, for solutions to unmask,

Clever answers found, I’m just outclassed!

_

It’s hard when you’ve not never had a decent education,

What do these things stand for or mean in abbreviation?

ACK, AFAIUI, Y3, & RADBNC, not of my generation!

But communicating with others satisfies me aspiration,

To help create a friendly Cyber-Nation.

_

Despite the Internet’s problems I must say,

I like the opportunity for laughter to cyber-spray,

Friendship and fun is what I seek for and pray,

Not nastiness, anger or insults, oh nay!

Although satire, humour and fun are good today,

Just please don’t upset anyone on your way!

* No Outer Mongolian Pregnant Kangaroos were harmed in the production of this piffle.

Inchcock Political Party Shadow Ministers rethink their Manifestos!

Rachel Carrera says:

We must fight on and not mewl, it’s the voters that were the fools, following the main party like mules!

Shirley Blamey says:

Extreme policies we must overrule, I’ll do the job just give me the tools!

Angel says:

It’s the greedy politicians we must attack and ridicule!

Marissa Bergen says:

We need Punk-rock, in the home, on public transport and the vestibule!

Mike Steedenski says:

We must legalise hemp, marijuana, and the absinthe soaked toadstool!

Danny Soz says:

Everyone should hire a vehicle from my VAT free car-pool!

Inchcock says:

Bring back hanging for Pavement cyclists should be the rule!

Gazza H says:

Remove Inchcock as our leader and use him as a footstool!

Dunc the Hunk says:

When I went to school, I lived on gruel, Gawd life can be cruel!

* Gazza asked me to point out that no Shoplifters, Pavement Cyclists or Members of UKIP were harmed in the production of this load of rubbish.

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