Category: Sarcasm

Inchcock Today: Tuesday 2nd August 2022

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TUESDAY 2nd AUGUST 2022

07:20hrs: I burst back into the world of woes with the regulation jump, jerk and jabberwockies. Realising how late it was, I climbed out of the £300, second-hand bought, c1968, nauseously beige-coloured, not-working, rusty, rickety, crumb-holder of a tatty recliner, was on the way to unlocking the door for Carer Richard and I had to nip into the wet room.
The actual evacuation was even easier than the last three days or so. But messier, you can’t win them all.
It was the worry over the water flood in the room that spoilt my pleasure with the rare good Throne visit. The water does not seem to lessen at all overnight, and, I admit, it made me nervous to walk in the water to get to the sink for a stand-up wash and shave. I chickened out. Cowardy cowardly custard! I can remember a year or so ago when the drain stopped working, and my going in to get the ablutions done… Mostly I remember the walking stick slipping in the water and my falling and entangling myself with the sock glide. The cuts and bruises took ages to clear up.

Hopefully, the maintenance will arrive today to have a look at the shower problem. I hope so because I must be ponging a bit by now, going showerless for so long. I’ve just had a sniff… Yep!

Arrived, and I’d forgotten again to unlock the door for him. He was in a rush this morning, so very little nattering was allowed. A inquired about his getting some sleep, but he was down in the mouth as he told me of the 24-hour gas works outside where he lives still drilling away and partiers making a racket again. Gave him some lager, teacakes and a bottle of Inchcock’s Special Brew. (That be a litre of Schweppes tonic water, with some orange cordial added, and stored overnight in the fridge for him). I thought it might cheer him up a bit; I got the first smile off of him as he left, taking the waste bags with him to the chute for me. Poor lad.

I got out the checking gear for sphygmomanometerisationing and the temperature reading.

I thought it was an idea to open the balcony windows to let a bit of fresh air in while I did the HCs… having not had a shower, no signs of any NCH maintenance man arriving yet. The howling wind encouraged me to close the doors again.

The results were heartwarming, all good readings again, and I was back down into the amber zone! The third time in three weeks!

Back on the computer, Cleaner Esther came in to get the laundry things. And she did not tell me off about a single thing! Mind you, she has to come back with the washing yet, so we’ll see. Hehe! She doesn’t frighten me!

Is back at his hobby, making steam trains for charity. I’m not sure if he makes so much noise on purpose or not. Hope he doesn’t kick off late at night again.

The ♫ Oh, Susana ♫ tune rang from the door chime. My heart gladdened and burst with joy at the thought of the Nottingham City Homes plumber arriving to sort the shower out for me… Humph! It was neighbour Josie returning the things from her Sunday-Monday meal delivery. It was nice to see her, but all I said was not heard nor answered; she had not got her hearing aids in. So I smiled effusively and often. I never did find out if she enjoyed the meals or not. Bless her!

A text message came through on my G6 Nokia Lumia 929 Icon mobile phone. Only joking!
I thought it might be from the NCH plumber (again, I am a fool), but no, it was EE trying to sell me some crap for when I go abroad to save money! Another flutter of hopefulness, utterly destroyed!

♫ Oh, Susana’s ♫ tune rang from the door chime. Aha! Is this the NCH plumber? Nope, it was Esther returning. She explained that she was going to South Africa for three weeks’ holiday but had someone who could cover for her. She phoned the lady, Carol, who came to check me out. Nice lady, an ex-carer, and agreed to do the washing for me after Esther had explained my problems. They left together. Now waiting for Esther to return, and she did. She’d spoken with Deana to see what day they may be coming. Deana has reported it. It’s just a case of waiting now… Fancy that!

With so little sleep, I am getting irritable with myself, I think. Not with others, just with me. Not much chance of catching up on the sleep, well, none! I’ve got to stay awake to have the slightest chance of hearing the intercom when they arrive. If I go into the wet room, I can’t hear it, so, no opportunity to address my filthy stinking body with a stand-up wash and shave… risky (tumbles, slips) anyway with water still on the wet room floor… I’m not a winner, am I?

I got creative when I went to make a brew of Glengettie Gold tea. Ailments have stopped me from taking landscape photographs long since. So I took two snaps of the view from the kitchen window, put them together and trimmed them with CorelDraw. This is the outcome: Rather semi-pleased with this.

After making the brew, it had gone a smidge dark, and I took this picture of the wonderful if dank clouds this afternoon.

Good for Esther to arrange cover for her holiday. Time to get something to eat, methinks. So I did!

I knew it would happen. I fell asleep. No idea if any plumbers arrived and could not get in cause I couldn’t hear the intercom. If I can wake up early enough in the morning, before the NCH plumbers arrive, I will have to risk having a shave and stand-up wash and be ready for the ‘Will they come today’ big wait-in. Again!

Sharon arrived to wake me up. Medications given. Cold drinkies from the fridge in appreciation chosen.

On with updating this blog. Then on the WP Reader, answered a mass of comments came in on this blog. Got them both replied to.

The landline rang; it was Nathaniel from the Diabetes Defence Team. It was hard to hear everything he said, but I think I got the gist of the call. He told me to attend the next session on Friday 12th August.  He would stay behind afterwards and talk me through the missed first session. Being aware of Dementia Doreen, I asked him to please rng Warden Deana to inform her, so she can arrange transport – explaining that I feared I may forget to ask her. He said he would, and I thanked him profusely.
Getting back may be dodgy, might need a bus or tram, then two more buses, to get back to the flats. Being a Friday evening, there will be no Wardens or Carer boss available if there are any problems encountered. I am a worry-guts!

I did it again. Drifted of to sleep, and I was woken by Carer Sarah. Who got the medications sorted, and I forced a treat from the fridge on the gal in thanks. ♥ I checked the texts on the super new G6 Nokia phone to see if any messages had come in from Nottingham City Homes about the shoer repair attendance. Nothing on it, so I hope I’ve not missed them. Sarah said they do not call on non-emergencies after 17:00hrs.

Which got me thinking. I could get a stand-up shave and wash when Sarah has gone. I can lock the front door and dive into the wet room, and if I take extra care throughout, can I still get the ablutions done? After dithering a while, I gave myself the go-ahead.
Worra, good session! I carefully blocked off the flood water with a mop bucket, and I pulled the shower curtain over the other area. Then if I wandered into the danger area without thinking, the noise of either obstacle should alert me to the danger – it worked a treat! Fair enough, it did cause a , but it saved me having a tumble. I was proud of myself for once. No bleeding teeth, not a single nick shaving! Yes! And, just a few small flecks of blood from Harold’s Haemorrhoids and Little Inches fungal lesion had not been bleeding at all – plenty of stinging, of course, when I medicated the little unused other than for wee-weeing thing. Hehehe!

I came out of the wet room, a cleaner, sweeter-smelling Inchie. (Aftershave, deodorant, and the smell of Germoloid and Germolene creams helped. Hehe!) And had o go back in for a rear-end evacuation. Always something, whenever I begin to feel smug! It was a delayed action, a sudden swift and spurting movement, and so messy as things got sprayed to amazing distances. Cleaning it up also needed care to avoid slipping on the standing water. Still, I got it all sorted. Grade Two .

I sky when I got into the kitchen, was looking fantasic. I’ll put the earlier shots I’d taken here, with the latest one last. I’ll make the shots a little larger, so they can be appreciated. What a change!

A feast for the eyes. When I get cataracts done, I can really
relish watching them again.

I carried in with updating and posted this blog off to WP.

Then made the Ode below.

Inchcock’s Local News Snippets – Issue 33↉

ODE TO CRIME

Some say crime is committed by the riffraff, the social residue,
And we’re all aware this is in itself, true…
Those who escape punishment are often the true blue…
Bankers, the rich can get away with crimes, so often do!
Anteriority and ruling classes are dishonest too…

But get prosecuted? There are so very few!
Worldwide there is deception, greed, murders, a hullabaloo…
For the Grenfell fire, justice is long overdue…
A Tory Council killed so many people, seventy-two!
Over Grenfell, the councillor’s actions are still under review!
It makes my blood boil and stew…

Why no protests? Cause they were immigrants or a Jew?
From Lithuania, India, China, Pakistan, or Timbuktu?
Misleading claims, lies, and cover-ups, for us to misconstrue,
The brave firefighters dejected, hitherto…
Their ladders were too short, they suffered Deja Vu,
The victims and relatives need justice, but from who?
Let’s be honest; prosecutions are long overdue!

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

NEWS SNIPPETS

You can see why they needed so many weapons about…
All of their drugs, it’s worth the law to flout?
Bet they drink champagne, and the police on stout,
With so many weapons, they could give Putin a hand-out?
Every gang member, each one a lout!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Well, these angelic little Angels would tempt most waverers on the bringing back hanging to reconsider! Don’t they look nervous?
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Can anyone help them?
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

He was feeling a little depressed. This can happen to anyone…
Defending himself, is he an arrogant paragon arrogant?
Obviously, money-mad, being a plastic surgeon,
Why not an EENT man, cancer, or psychosurgeon?
Mayhaps he drinks champagne by the flagon?
Has an evening meal of caviar and sturgeon?
His hopes of being found innocent? A smidgeon!
If so, he can run away and start surgery in the Yukon!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

I hope this murdering scumball is not getting paid for his appearance on Gogglebox? I’d bet that he is!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

An Uber spokesperson said: “The safety of riders and drivers is a top priority for Uber, and this is a concerning report. We will investigate this incident.”
Must be more to this, worra you think?
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –


Result in the minus for the first time in a while!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Inchcock continues to fail to win in the free Play-To-Win competition!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

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

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

These are the latest available records of Nottingham Violent Crime Statistics.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

ODE of UNRELATED THOUGHTS

Peripheral Neuropathy has made me ambisinister.
We’ve got Rishi or Lizzie for Prime Minister…
Either one could prove to be sinister,
I was never much of a student or educator…
But I self-taught myself later…
Which was a disaster…
He hated me… the headmaster,
On the balcony last night, I thought I saw Jupiter,
Taking 10-minutes of wee-weeing; makes me loopier…
Do you think my Arithmophobia…
Would it stop me from getting a job as a croupier?
I think my memory is getting more forgettier!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Keep Safe.
Cheers!

Inchcock Today Ode & Diary

Of course, Inchie soon lost his own plot!

From the heights of success and much glee,
From being a Kingpin at the top of the tree…
I was never a Hank Marvin or Bruce Lee…
Drinking, I got the sack for my lampoonery,
Only one way to go now for me!

Down, with a frown…
In despair to be drowned…
I have yet to hit the ground…
For I’d been hoping for good luck to be found,
Doreen Dementia was giving me the run-around…
I’m like a blubbery whale that’s run aground!

But further into the quagmire, I plunged,
My last wishes and plans expunged…
Splat… I was dead, so no longer unhinged
No medications, no ears to be syringed…
No more waiting for the next ailment that twinged,
And not be moaned at, or be zugzwanged!.

SAINT PETERS GATE

Ah, St Peters Gate, will I get angel wings?
Two bouncers descended the stairing…
Nicked my walking stick and kicked me in the shin?
Why? I asked: “You were making too much of a din!”,
“If yer going to be a noisy bugger, you’re not gerrin in!
Another snuffed-it tellurian came, name of Martin…
Not as fat as me, in fact, he was relatively thin…
Same age, looked younger, said he was addicted to gin?

THE INTERVIEWS

I said, “I don’t want to know!” He said: ‘I was talking to him!’ …
Pointing at St Peter, who was busy questioning.
I say, ‘I was here first!’
“Ah, but I played in World Cup with Geoff Hurst!”
I quipped: “Is that it then, footballers go first”?

Adding, “That’s not fair! God, would be fair!”
A bouncer. the one with long hair…
Pointed to St Peter, smoking a reefer, sat in a chair…
“You see that bloke there?
“Yea!”
Well, he makes the rules for what happens here…
And he’s a West Ham fan, pulled out his taser…
He stunned me through my blazer…
I shouted. “You missed my ticker by a centimetre…
Do? yer, dead anyway, and laughed with St Peter!
Sorry, I died now; I was safer back in Uttoxeter!.
The Tannoy burst out, “You, tubby, shurrup, you blooter!
St Peter departed, saying I sort the bald one in the next millennia.
Hang on, I say, how long does a millennium last?

Don’t matter, does it? As he grabbed my hand for fingerprinting...
No rush; you’ve no one inside whittling…
“What about my Dad and Cyril, my cat?” I said, grovelling…
Well, if yer like, I can send you back to earth while yer waiting?
Words I never thought I’d find so frightening!
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SUNDAY 17th July 2022

I stirred around 05:00hrs. I had a wee-wee without any leakages. Washed, shaved, and in an industrious mood, I set about prepping Josie’s Sunday meal.

Prepped the fresh vegetables, got them in the saucepan, seasoned them and kept stirring them every now and then.
This was when I realised I had got hot water from the tap! And Carer Valerie had requested maintenance to attend, and they were coming today! Oh, I did feel a fool! I turned my attention to trying to find a number for Nottingham City Homes Maintenance. Out of hours one, it is the weekend, and standard lines are unavailable. It was a farcical effort. I did find and ring the number: A recorded message, which as with everything on the phone, was hard to understand. I think she said that this line is for emergencies only. A smidgeon of panic rose within. And after being stumped completely, I decided to ask the morning Carer if he/she would mind calling the number to see if it was possible to let them know that the problem has solved itself. Which is better than saying: “The twit who lives here is senile and has Vascular Dementia, so the old fool gets things a muffle” Don’t you think! To save the cost of an engineer coming out when not needed. I hope the maintenance man doesn’t beat the Carer in arriving… Oh, dear!
I forgot about the Morrison delivery coming today via Amazon until a text message arrived. I rushed about and got room made in the fridge and had just finished it when they arrived. A jolly decent chap came with carefully packed bags. I was pleased to see they had sent some vegan burgers, I’ve had them before and enjoyed this brand, so I ordered two packs of four burgers. How or why I ordered (if I did?) the breadcrumbed ones are beyond me? Vegan ice cream, some lemon ‘Free-From Bakewells on this tray… Mmm!
Food cupboard stocks resupplied. I’m hoping these cooked beetroots are actually-cooked and not raw like the Iceland ones were. Various cans of beans, pickled gherkins and a small bottle of BBQ sauce completed these bags. All three cupboards have been replenished now.
I had another look around for the NCH telephone numbers. No luck! Then did a deep Sherlock Holmesian ferret about the missing sunglasses that I might need tomorrow if they do the cataract operation in the morning. No luck! So, I had a hunt around for the hearing aid blower, oddly enough… No luck!
About 07:40hrs, the Morning Carer, Johnathan… no, no… Joseph arrived. The first thing I did was welcome him in with a big smile and tell him I had a problem and he might be able to help me out. I told him of my Whoopsiedangleplop with the hot water and asked if Joseph would mind calling the NCH for me. The lad was already running late, and he said he had to press on, fair enough, no problem with that. He then said he was getting his last calls done and came back to help[ me with the maintenance call. I thanked him.
A final stir and taste of Josie’s chilli, and off to the Porcelain room. Cor blimey, that was a big one! Hehehe! Got a wash again and went back to check on the Sunday lunch for Josie. Tasted good! I’d left the Canon camera in the wet room. I took a photo of my neighbours’ food tray and got it delivered quickly. Cleaned up the things used in cooking and returned to the computer to start this blog. Thought I’d upload the meal photograph… The Canon camera had not got the SD card in! Grungle-Self-Curses! And it was one to be proud of as well! Grrr! I am getting angrier with Dementia Doreen lately!
Then as things had calmed down, I did the belated Health Checks.
The Blood Pressure was up a little bit. Pulse down a smidgeon, and the body temperature was great!
The NHS input site was given the readings, which came out only in the red area. Pretty pleased with this.

I went into the kitchen to put some chips in the oven for my nosh and had a hat-trick of Whoopsie-Accifauxpas within minutes of getting in there.
① Dropped the tray over fresh oven-ready chips, and being so hungry, I picked them up, cleaned them, and put them in the oven anyway. ② ③ Burnt wrist putting the pots in the oven. Better get the food done now before the evening Carer arrives.
Tired, drained and worn out. I made a quick, simple nosh, which was tastier than many I’ve made. The fresh chips cooked in the oven were possibly the best I’ve ever tasted in months. Morrisons, they were. A bread roll, a few red and yellow tomatoes, and a pot of BBQ sauce to dip and dunk in. Hehehe!

Arrived, she soon had me sorted, and I stripped and got down in the second-hand, £300, c1968, overwhelmingly-sickeningly beige coloured, tatty, uncomfortable, wobbly-recliner. In search of Sweet Morpheus.

Inchcock Today: The Dream, Odes & Diary

Nocturnal Visitors

I stirred from my slumber,
I’d had a dream, but could I remember,
I checked to make sure I was sober…
Nodded off again, I woke to discover,
Scribble on the notepad, needing to decipher.
The following facts are what I managed to gather…

Start of the dream, I looked out and got in a lather…
Ghosts and Goblins in the sky, but no bother…
Indeed I tried with them to have a blatherer…
Then did an instant maneuverer…
I was in the ground floor link corridor?
The ectoplasms, ghosts, got grotesquerer!
In walked animals, a skeleton, and a roboton!
Probably others too that I’ve forgotten!

Not the weirdest dream that I’ve begotten,
Didn’t bother me; they did nowt rotten…
Oh, the Grim Reaper, he looked sullen…
One of the creatures looked like a wivern.

As I woke up, I was thunderstrucken,
I fell out of the chair, hit my knee it got swollen,
I took a Codeine for the pain to dullen…

As I woke up, I was thunderstrucken,
I fell out of the chair, hit my knee it got swollen,
Better make a start on the diary; it’s gone eleven!

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

Tuesday 12th July 2022

So, a modicum of concentration and determination developed, and I motored on with the Blood Pressure utilised the A&D Medical Supplies, made in Chinese sphygmomanometer. Then did the body temperature. All the results were of an acceptable standard this jolly Tuesday morning. In particular, the temperature and pulse are almost within the set result target ranges. Then after having a natter with the family, nada Lillie the Lamb checking on my notepad and keeping herself up to date, it is time to get the ablutions done.
I stripped off (I do a lot of that, you know) and made my way to the wet room… where I easily and simultaneously stubbed my toe on Sock Glide Glenda as I was taking the hearing aids out and dropped one and out popped the battery. With cataracts, I could not follow the multi-circular route taken as the battery spun around. I’ve got plenty of batteries to use, but it’s so annoying when one escapes. Hehe! Things went well enough after that for a while. The teeth (painful), then shaving (only one cut!) were completed, showering and on to the drying off… Ah, a slight chance of luck now!
The Wee-weeing sessions restarted and were uncomfortable. The pants that had been half on at the time of the Accifauxpa were mostly blood-red in seconds! They were all of the WUNT (Weak-Unwilling-Negligible Trickling) style. But this was nothing compared to what the state Peripheral Pete’s caused me! I’d done the medicationalisationings and was getting into a new pair of protection Pants, and off went the right leg on the Neuropathic dance routine! A bit frisky this one was, and I last my balance and hot my newly washed and medicated wedding tackle against the sink edge.

I realised later that I had also knocked out another tooth, bruised the eye slightly, and somehow, Harold’s Haemorrhoids were leaking too! It took me ages to get everything sorted out; a good job that the carer was a little late. I was cleaning up the wet room mess I’d made when I realised there were some, just a few new spots of blood on the floor? I must have caught the scab on the burn mark on the knuckles. But it was nothing like the blood for Harolds Haemorrhoids, the tooth or fungal lesion: they were all the usual deep red type. This was almost pink… I think? It stopped of its own accord a minute or so later. Worra Day!
Carer Richard arrived, and he was in a rush. Rich was coughing a lot; I hope he’ll be alright. He’s got a diabetes session to attend this morning, I reckon he said.
Wished him all the bestest as he left with some treats; then, I had a closer look at the ankle’s ulcers. Well, what a surprise, they haven’t looked this calm in months. I’ve forgotten the rest of the ditty? Ah-well, win some, lose some…
After what seemed an aeon, I got on with the blogging. I meant to say, earlier on, about 02:00hrs, (Yes, Sweet Morpheus is not pleased with me! I looked at the calendar, and I was sure I’d ordered an Iceline order to come today. So I checked on the website. It told me I had no orders, so I got on the J Sainsbury site and made an order with them for tomorrow.
You see, this Friday, I have the first Cataract operation, so I will be virtually blind afterwards, then I’ve got to go back for an examination to see if it’s worked okay. So, I intend to get the cupboards and fridge filled up before I leave cause there is a chance they told Jillie when she phoned them that I may be kept in, in the event any Whoopsiedangleplops during the operation.
Then a while later, I got a message on my G6⅘ths Ultra-modern mobile phone. It was from Iceland informing me that my delivery that they told me was not ordered), will be delivered shortly? Now, I’ve got a J Sainsbury order coming tomorrow as well! Could things get worse? Well, yes, and they did! Humph! The products were in liners, not carrier bags…

Iceland had No Vegan beefburgers, no milk roll bread (sent a substitute loaf), Bananas soft and three of the five burst open; the pot of No-Bull vegan ice cream was in liquid form, a right mess. To clean up! – You would not believe the state of the food! The strawberries were squashed, the biscuits in crumbs and one of the packets of AAA batteries card and plastic retainer shell was off; it was never seen – I just collected the eight batteries from the depths of the wet food. This was one of the worst deliveries I’ve ever had from them.

Still, on the bright side, I’ve got food galore in the fridge; I’ve probably not got room for the Sainsbury’s stuff to get them in on Thursday. However, the ice cream will likely take months to harden enough to eat. I suppose I could drink it? Both pots!
Oh, and the bananas tasted okay, just a shame that I paid for five and only two were edible, and they were bruised inside, and I had to watch what I was eating. Oh, never mind! The lid on the jar of beetroot was loose, and…

At long last, I got onto the blogging, and the door-chime burst forth. It was Josie returning Sunday’s utensils from her meal. As I took the tray and things from her, I told her I had some strawberries for her, asking her to hang on while I fetched them. When I returned to the door with the fruits, Josie had gone back into her flat.

I’m not sure which of us is worse than the other, she or me, for hearing, and we both guess at what is being said, I think sometimes. Hahaha!
I told her about my going into the hospital to have my cataracts seen on Friday and then Monday for a follow-up. Then I said I’ll see if see enough to do you a meal or not come Sunday. But I expect not. She laughed and… I think anyway, “Yes, I’ll be in for lunch on Sunday…” Of course, I could have misheard her; she definitely misheard me… Hahaha! As she ook the Strawberries, she said she felt guilty about me making the fodder every Sunday. I said it was my pleasure… “Can I get some bananas for you at the weekend?” I put my thumbs up and smiled…

Int life great when yer gerowd? Har-har!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

I was wondering about my hypertension…

Is it cause Neil Kinnock is a distant relation?
Or cause I’m still waiting for the Vicar’s confirmation…
Or my habit of losing track and digression?
Why do I want the go through teleportation?
Doctors can’t cure my dying neurotransmissions,
Leaving me forever with derision & indecision…
Am I too soft, believing in nonaggression?
I’m full of fear and misapprehension,
I’d love to free myself of my mental tension…
Is the answer to commit self-decommission?
Do I need some physiological remission?
Can’t go on like this; I must make a decision…
I can’t cope with mental corrosion, confusion,
Be positive, become more Sherlock Holmesian,
Drugs, are they the answer, but I’ve an aversion…
Maybe I’ll try some Columbian?
Do I even deserve help? Or vilification?

Evening All!

Inchcock Today: Rescued Photos

Due to Trotsky Terence causing me hassle and pain,
The Porcelain Throne visits happened again & again…
Dementia Doreen made my concentration transmundane,
I couldn’t find the camera, my language became profane,
After hours, the location was successfully ascertained…

Some form of hope, I started to regain…
However, they soon went on the wane…
The camera’s SD card had disappeared again!
I searched for hours… no hopes remain…
Doreen Dementia… a permanent bane!.

On and off for a day, I was frantically searching…
Up and down, my emotions ever lurching…
From never-mind to self-hating…
At times, mentally self-fustigating,
My psychological state… was beyond interpreting!

Leaving no stone unturned, I again started SD card seeking,
No luck, so I sorted out the laundry tub to do the washing…
Found the card in my pyjama top’s pocket; amazing!
So turned my attention to sorting the grazing…

I rather enjoyed this vegetarian noshing,
I found myself doing an awful lot of belching?
Fell asleep, to wake up and extrapolating,
Sorting the world out… hypothesising,
Starting with how to stop the MP’s hornswoggling,
But soon found this was too mind-boggling!

Checked on the plates and pins state…
They looked a lot better today, mate!
Nice, when I find summat to appreciate!
One day, I hope to see a little less weight…
A dream, more than a thing to anticipate!.

Better tend to my mornings ablutioning,
Cleaned the teeth, then on to shaving,
Had an excellent slow, steady session of showering,
Then on to the uncomfortable medicationalisationing…

I dried off, oiled and rinsed each earhole first,
Little Inchies fungal lesion done, with a blood-thirst,
Harold’s Haemorrhoids… painfully the worst!
Eye drops, mainly missing, Tsk! A curse!

Accifaupas dressing, an accidental photographing…
Dropped the camera, no damage, so not too vexing,
So, I took another of me posing…
This one came out to my liking,
Smug-Mode developing!

Found a shot of Ice-cream that’s Vegan…

I added some sprinkles, to it…
It gave the bad tooth some jip!
Amongst the contents are turnip?
I’m not bothered, I loved it!

The Blood pressure was well high…
The Body temperature is nigh on perfect!

Morning Car Park Piccies!

This morning’s waking view,
The Porcelain Throne needed going to…
I hit my shoulder as I was going through…
On the doorframe, I think I said thank you,
To Shaking Shoulder Shirley, too!

The evening dawns, is that the right word?
Not that anyone will be bothered…,
Cause later on,
I took these that outshone…
Nicer coloured, better favoured!
Then this beauty, later on

FOOD, GLORIOUS FOOD

And used it to make this super meal

The highlight was the vegan burgers, each eaten
twixt two slices of Milk Roll bread. The fresh
garden peas, tomatoes, and baby new
potatoes tasted excellent!
A pot of jelly & custard, and delightful
lemon mousse, to round it off!
GORGEOUS! Flavour Rating: 8.5/10

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

My mentality is being steamrollered,
My aims and intentions are steered,
I lose control, it’s time that I surrendered,
Unless I can get help… my brain mended…
My dreams are black & white, yet multi-coloured.
Ideas, plans destroyed or embroidered…
At their conception, logic was avoided,
Minimal new memories are remembered
Dark thoughts are often harboured…
But shortly, into the ether, they are melted,
Intentions and aims cannot be deciphered…
And I made them, I’m just dumbfounded…
Over nothing, I can get easily flustered,
When aims and fears amass and get clustered…
Which reminds me, I must get some mustard!

Inchcock’s Make Them Laugh in Ode Series

Local News Snippets – Part 14⅒th

Unwin must have been known for having a violent history…

For four officers to escort him, obviously the dullest,

To take off his handcuffs, knowing he’s the unfriendliest,

A decision that proved to be one of the iffiest,

Four officers were assaulted; was there an inquest?

In court, battered officers, the most ignoble,

Saw a sentence handed to Unwin, the patheticist…

15 months, suspended, no wonder he reoffended!

This sentence should go down in folklore,

Not one policeman beat up, but four!

Now he’s free to duff-up some more!

Why is there no complaining or furore…?

Namby-pamby sentencing gets more and more,

Violent police assaulters, by the score…

Laughing at judges even more…

Softness won’t work, like with Putin’s war!

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Modern-day gangsters, barely out of their nappies. What chance for the future, with scum-ball bully boys so scared, they have to carry weapons and use them to intimidate others? There is no chance of any retribution worth talking of. I’m sure the threat of having to serve two-thirds of their sentence and the rest on a licence will send a shudder of fear through their vicious, antisocial, greedy, cowardly, cowardly, drug-crazed, chicken-hearted, self-centred minds.

What chance for the future, with scum-ball bully boys so scared, they must carry weapons and use them to intimidate others? Modern-day gangsters, barely out of their nappies. No chance of any retribution worth talking of; I’m sure the threat of having to serve two-thirds of their sentence and the rest on a licence will send a shudder of fear through their vicious, antisocial, greedy, cowardly minds. It’ll get them some more street-cred with the opposition drug gangs, which is more concerning to these lice than any prison sentence. OF course, they will be able to access drugs for personal use via manipulated family members and visitors. Not having to worry about getting medical attention, cooking, cleaning, council tax, the increase in the cost of living, having computer problems… Hang on that does sound a little tempting. I bet if I was incarcerated, I’d get both cataracts, saccades and glaucoma done quicker… Maybe, even get some help with Vascular Dementia, Doreen? Be able to actually see a real doctor! Not to fret over food price rises, rent, and carer cost increases… And stick two fingers up at my unsolvable computer problems; I can use the prison ones and get the internet for free!

Now that’s got me thinking. Who’s the idiot, these three stooges or me? Have I been missing out on things in life? Silly question that! Obviously, I have been missing out, or why would I end up where I am, after a slog of miserable, failed, error-filled life, stuck here surrounded by tellurians and so lonely?

Can one of these three good-looking drug-gang members might advise me on how and where to get a reliable handgun and ammunition? 

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Surprised? I’m not. The end is nigh! The world is racing to it. Not much point in betting on which way the world and or humanity will self-destruct, but I’ve come up with some odds:

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

A sore point, so I’ll say no more!

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Covid numbers, not so good?

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

I keep on failing!

TTFNski!

Thought-Storms Released – with odeing

Upon reading this crap, I felt a little hypnagogia,

I felt dizzy; mayhap it’s habromania?

Or even worse, a mental cacodemonomania…

You can work this out between yers…

Cause sure as hell, this ode will bring you longueur!

Things are so bad, I’ve got apeirophobia…

I’ve just had a bout of acrophobia!

I’m growing ever tubbier and heavier…

As I age, my ailments get nastier, uglier,

I’m losing my grip; it’s not just a rumour!

With such limited brain power…

The thought of teaching did hover…

I couldn’t get my head around wind power.

I was going to apply for the job of executioner…

It involved a lot of hanging around, so I didn’t bother.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – –

I wondered, will Putin’s war remain non-nuclear?

We’re running out of space for more folks coming here…

But victims should be welcomed, it’s clear…

The world is different to yesteryear…

Putin’s warring is not over yet, I fear!

The cost of living is rising, and life is becoming austere!

There’s hope, says Boris, but from where?

The Tory Council, guilty of Grenfell, did I hear…

were at Boris’s party, no masks, but whisky and beer?

Oh, to meet the Kensington & Chelsea London Borough Council leader at the time. The murdering scum, who got off scot-free, the lucky Bleeder!

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

The chief executive of Kensington and Chelsea council has resigned amid criticism over the borough’s response to the Grenfell Tower fire.

Nicholas Holgate said Local Government Secretary Sajid Javid asked for him to go – the government denied this. Mr Holgate said the fire in North Kensington, where at least 79 people died, was “heart-breaking”, but his presence would be a “distraction”.

Perhaps if his Council had not ignored the Tenants Association Meetings warnings that were recorded; Telling them that a disastrous fire: The chief executive of Grenfell Tower’s landlord body told colleagues to ignore a resident who warned eight months before the fire that:

“Only a catastrophic event will expose the ineptitude and incompetence of our landlord!”

He might not have had to resign?

Why has the legal system not used these in a prosecution?

The reappearance of Nicholas Holgate

Posted on May 4, 2022, by northkenthinker

Tomorrow, Thursday, May 5, might be Election Day, but for some also thinking about RBKC, it will also be when Nicholas “Naughty Nick” Holgate appears at the Grenfell Inquiry: People in and around the Grenfell community might remember Nicholas Holgate. He was the Town Clerk of RBKC (Barry Quirk’s predecessor) until shortly after the Grenfell Tower fire when 72 innocent members of our community lost their lives. He resigned from the Council around a week after the disaster, saying he would be a “distraction” But when asked by journalists if the then Secretary of State for  Housing, Communities and Local Government,  Sajid Javid, authorised this. MHCLG did not deny this and just issued a statement saying, “The appointment of chief executives is entirely the responsibility of the local authority,” some time afterwards. For anyone who happens to think Holgate was just some innocent “fall guy” director simply doing his job and simply just took the rap from the decisions of Nick Paget-Brown, “Jailhouse”, Rock Feilding-Mellen and co, we’ll just post a link to his statements and evidence so far”:

https://www.grenfelltowerinquiry.org.uk/evidence/nicholas-holgate-evidence-read-26-july-2021

Holgate might be highly intelligent and like to think he can cover his terms with official speak and an air of detachment, but reading what he says and contrasting that with the goings-on at the time tells quite another story – and that story is that he was a collaborator. We recommend interested readers have a look through the Grenfell Action Group archive to decide for themselves:

https://grenfellactiongroup.wordpress.com/

 Holgate is back in teaching! Not so long ago, friends of a Grenfell survivor were horrified to find out that their daughter’s maths teacher at Godolphin and Latymer School was Holgate. This school is also reasonably nearby and is only 2 miles from Grenfell.

We’ll remind Holgate that 18 of the victims of the Grenfell Tower fire were children, who he now has power over again!

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

INCHIES ODE TO POLITICIANS

It’s fear of those in charge that gets to me…

They claim to rule pretty academically,

But do so with idiosyncrasy and alcoholically,

Like PMs of old, they are full of Godwottery…

They should retire and take up making pottery…

Their expense-fiddles covered… need not the salary,

They should all be charged with kleptocracy!

These parasites caused my encephalopathy!

May they go Forth & Multiply!

Inchcock’s Local News Snippets

Visitors to Nottingham, please take care,
They’ll be violence, so please be aware,
Knifings, we’ve more than our fair share,
Murderers, muggers, things are austere!

At night, folks go out for fun and cheer…
They’ll drink anything, gin, absinthe or beer,
Then they’ve no inhibitions, nothing to fear,
Until they start to feel odd and queer?…
Drugged without knowing it, poor dear!

Club girls may get spiked and get dizzy and quave,
Mugged, car stolen, or kidnapped and used like a slave…
You can get your pocket-picked on roads and alleyways…
Molesting, stabbings, shootings, anytime or ways…
Not many policemen around to help nowadays!

If you’ve been to Nottingham before, had a few stays,
You’ll be able to vaticinate our criminality & illegal ways,
But Nottingham has some things worthy of praise…
I’ll think of something one of these days…
Oh, and we have many prison breaks, escapes and runaways!

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Inchcock’s Local News Snippets

15 years for manslaughter for McGhee?
Life for the other two scumballs, see?
Killer Cox got life; in ten years, he was set free!
The Justice system is crap.. clearly…
Bet they’ll all be out again to murder freely…
No justice in this; they’ve been sentenced improperly…
Life should be for life, not released early!
Parole is cheaper for HMG, evidently…
129 criminals have been freed (UK) to kill again, freakily!
It’s the Judges and Parole Board that are guilty!

Fourteen pathetic months! Are the Judge and or Lawyers taking bribes or just the piss! Weapons, drugs, abuse, ignoring the court’s restraining order… already committed 33 offences, and the namby-pamby on the bench slaps his wrist? Is he supplying the inept, corrupt, guilty, ‘Free murderers to kill again’ Parole Board and other officials with drugs then? Grant will undoubtedly be able to build a reserve stock of cheap drugs while he’s inside. He’ll doubtless be freed in six months maximum to attack the lady again… Justice in the hands of cowards!

It seems that Nottingham’s cowardly bullies are turning their attention to easier targets nowadays. Old folk. Time for us old un’s to get tooled up – like the murderers who get life in prison and are freed by the shit-headed, ‘They didn’t mean it’ Parole Boarders a few years later to kill again… But no, better not, if we were to do that and we shot a mugger, we’d get sent down for longer than murderers do. Of course, gang-landers do have the advantages of having the drugs, young ladies and cash to back-hand the (A member working 115 days would be likely to receive between £30,000 to £40,000) murderer-freeing Parole Boarders. Just a thought!

Nine years for a brutal killer? Another pathetic sentence?Might be a good idea to let him board with his Parole Officer when he gets out in four years?

Tried and sentenced at last. Five years & nine months, plus an eight-month concurrent sentence for fraud. Nice!

I imagine that Daniel is laughing all the way to this prison after getting this sentence? He’ll be out within 7 months, I reckon?

At least they are keeping the crud-nuts in custody!

Oh, Dear, Oh Dear!

VERY NICE!

Inchcock Diary & Odes, Fri 27th May 2022

Diary & Odes

Blotchy-Faced?

INCHIES MORNING ODE

I looked in the mirror last night; a terrible sight!
It was as if I’d been battered in a fistfight,
Blotches, pale eyes, a depression, it did incite…
How do I get into this mentally-inspired plight?
The physical ailments, I’m coping with them alright…
Although some of them can at times be a fight…
Cataracts, neuropathy, deaf, etc. have ruined my rike,
I’ve no confidence left; I feel like a troglodyte!

Was my being born an accident or oversight?
Mother ran away, was the start of my many a fike…
In social interactions, at 76, I’m still a neophyte…
Which doesn’t explain why my eyes and skin are so white?
The red patches remind me of the pox and bryophyte…
But I’m going to stop worrying… well, I might…
Things come to me, ailments, fears and many a blight…
What future I’ve left is not looking too bright!

I need to do something, like mind-defragging,
Free the tension, keep the tongues from wagging,
Cause it’s no use hiding and camouflaging…
My failures, incompetency and my not belonging!
My faults in the future, I’ll be acknowledging,
I’ll start with cutting out the foul language and effing…
Cut down my time blogging and cybersurfing!
From overeating, I’ll start abstaining,
Why do all that, you may be asking?
I can’t remember now, and that’s alarming!

YOU CAN TELL HE IS CHEERING UP A BIT, CAN’T YOU

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

Friday 27th May

04:30hrs: I woke with the usual jump but soon regained all possible control (Which was not a lot) of my brain. And responded niftily to the call from Bladder Blair for a wee-wee.

Washed and made a brew of Thompsons’ Signature tea. Got on the computer and started to get the photos on.

These on the right are from last evening after I’d got the nosh consumed and settled down in the £300, second-hand bought, c1968, nauseously beige-coloured, not-working, rusty, rickety, difficile, crumb-covered tatty recliner.

But I kept getting up again to photograph the sky.

Resettled but dozed for half an hour and shot wide awake again. Humph!

And the glow from the sky was coming through the curtain. I just had to, and I did, get up yet again to take these three pictures on the left of the evening late sunsetting.

These were a lot more colourful than the earlier ones.

The first one I took and made was while making a brew of Glengettie tea. By the time I’d made the mug, the rain had stopped, and the whole sky had changed colour with some interesting orange-hued puffer clouds near the horizon.

Mother nature never seems to stop amazing me.

I started to update the Wednesday/Thursday blog. Then within minutes, I had to return to the wet room, in need of the Porcelain Throne. So, I did!

A messy Trotsky Terence controlled evacuation again, but not as bad as yesterday. Not one of my better ones! I opted to get the ablutions done while I was in there.

The teeth bled; I dropped the razor and banged my shoulder on the sink, bending down to retrieve it. Then proceeded to give me several cuts shaving, under the chin, the ear-hole, and…wait for this… my left index finger! Then as I looked in the shaving mirror as I was cleaning it, I saw the blotches all over my face! Worra state! And the eye sockets looked proper pink?

Carer Valerie arrived. She got the medications sorted out, and we managed a little natter between us. And Val took the laundry with her and the waste bag, saying as Arni did… “I’ll be back!” Hehe!

I went back onto the blog and got it finished and posted off. Pinterested some photos and got on Facebook catch-up.

Then the Amazon Morrison order arrived. A lovely foreign lady, polite and sociable gal, bless her cotton socks. Three items were out of stock. And the onion chips were substituted with curry chips. Not sure that I will be keen on them, but, you never know, they might taste alright for me. At least I got the red potato fritters and one of the three battered chips I wanted.

Then, I got the things sorted and stored. There didn’t seem much to go in the freezer, which was just as well cause there was no room in the drawers anyway. I did get a loaf of bread in.

The fridge didn’t look anywhere as near full as usual after a delivery? Was I getting good and ordering less?

Well, no, not really. Why the heck I ordered a packet of Thompson’s Signature tea bags? I don’t know. I’ve got six packages of Thompson’s Punjana, two of J Sainsbury Red label extra strong, and a box of Glengettie in stock already? Oh, and a bix of Co-op 99 as well!

I got the flower treats that should have been coming on Monday for today. My EQ told me to. There will be something occurring on Monday medically, mayhaps, he tells me? I rang Warden and Desktop dancer Deana to tell her they were here, and when she came later, she kindly took a bunch to Francis for me. I can’t recall their names, but there were two different types. She had a choice of whichever she fancied.

I returned to finish off the Facebooking and then comments on WordPress. I got a call from my precious Hristina, the Warfarin DVT blood nurse; she will be calling twixt 10-1200hrs on Monday for the following test sample. I added it to the Google calendar. Got the Blood Pressure figured out. A bit high this morning. But this does happen now and then; it may have been with me hearing Hristina’s voice?

The body temperature was low, but nowt to worry about.

Carer Valerie returned the laundry for me. Thanked her, and off she went. I visited the junk room to hang the clothes. I was disappointed in the state of the jammie bottoms, all creased up, one leg inside out. One long-sleeved tee shirt was the same with the arms. The trousers were crunched up and creased. I must try to get Meridian to stop doing the washing for me… and paying them!

The tap tapping and noises that sounded like something metal-like being dropped kicked off. Still, he’s been quiet up till now.

Made an order for Iceland next week. Then got the nosh sorted. Oh, Boy, were those curried potato chips tasty! Yes, they were! Buttered mushroom pate sarnies, gherkins, red and orange tomatoes. A banana to follow and a worthy 8.3/10 for taste! Lovely!

I got settled to await the arrival of the evening carer, who was a smidge late, not that it mattered. I started to watch a Heartbeat episode, and every few minutes, I’d nod off for a couple of minutes, wake up, and off again. Most aggranoying, as I’d not seen this episode before. Tsk!

The evening carer arrived, medicated me, and asked if the laundry was ready to collect. I said that Valerie had done it this morning. A nibble and can of plonk were selected, and she took the waste bag with her.

Locked the door and got settled to watch the second episode of Heartbeat on the box. But, No! I kept nodding off again and shooting awake after a few minutes, only to drift off again and repeat the procedure?

Somehow I did manage to nod off, but it was hours later.

My much blotchy pot-marked face,
A sign of age, rotting and decays?
To be expected, I think nowadays…
Like wee-weeing in spurts and sprays.
Or losing memories that fade and stray…
Along with confusing, baffling thought waves…
Needing a kip each day, before midday…
Recalling when one was alive, in one’s heyday,
You’re looking towards the next pension day,
Coping with Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley…
Deaf, cataracts, depression Monday to Sunday…

My excrescences, give me haute couture,
If that’s the word, I’m not really sure…
I wonder if the Tate would make a sculpture?
I’d like to be a giver, cheerer-upperer, enricher…
Or an MP, maybe even a frontbencher?
Perhaps best, if I stay as this demented old failure,
Although I’m sadly an incompetent botcher…
A harmless old fart who’s into pareidolia…
Awaiting St Peter’s greeting as he says, ‘Gotcha!’
Possibly, my brain may have caught paranoia?

Trying is the first step toward failure!

Inchcock’s Local News Snippets – Part 33⅓rd

Inchcock’s Local News Snippets – Part 33⅓rd
Seems to be a question over which part this is? Haha!

Breaking News – Deadly Caterpillars found in Nottingham!

What with swine fever & poisonous insecticide…
Covid, Putin, bird flu, which is worse? You decide!
Drunk drivers, murderers, and a shortage of cyanide…
We’d better sort out the best choice for suicide…
Jump off a high building, shoot yourself, or use Fungicide?
Easy for me, I’ll take 10 Warfarins and a few Furosemide
The kids would be heartbroken if their dog died…
But would self-immolation really be justified?
Maybe, cause Putin’s war will soon go worldwide!

I’ll try to catch the court case to see the sentence,
Unless the lily-livered judge decides on his innocence,
All he’ll have to do is show the mock judge reticence,
The judge will bring up some 1895 jurisprudence…
See that the lad didn’t mean to kill, using grandiloquence…
The beak congratulates the lawyer on his great defence…
Fines the lad £50 and pays his court cost expense!

I keep seeing in these reports; the word Sherwood…
Me living there midst of the violence and blood…
Means I don’t feel safe, as any innocent would!
I think I should have left, absquatulated…
Mayhaps the miscreants are misunderstood?
Whatever happened to an eye for an eye, blood for blood…
Christs, it’s dangerous living in Sherwood!

An Angel of Mercy came to the rescue,
Gave no name, a white van driver, too!
Would you think he was from Nottingham, do you?
Probably from Wales, Devon or Crewe?

According to the court records, (a chap here works there). This animal has had 91 convictions for 41 offences. He’s awaiting trial for four fraud charges, attempted robbery, carrying a knife in a  public place, and demanding money from several taxi drivers! There are another 44 charges that were ‘dropped’ through lack of evidence (that seems a lot?) and domestic abuse. Five years and five months, with eight months for the eleven fraud charges. I need a mathematician here… how long did the scumbag get for each crime he committed, please?

Confusing?

We’ll trace the suspects earnestly!
No doubt, using their renowned synergy,
And cunningly concealed sagacity…
And scribble a note on the back of the hand!

By pure default.
This man’s a dolt!

Parole Board idiots let him leave clink early,
They should be prosecuted and sued, clearly…
They got it wrong yet again, then surely…
There are not up to the job, pathetically!
As Hughie Green said, ‘I mean this sincerely’…
The Parollers should be sacked and fined, but severely!

Mayhaps in prison, Brown could train…
The Parole Board idiots again…
Tell them they are thick, nonsane!
Freeing scumbags early is transmundane,
They’ll commit crimes again, fly off in a plane…
Laugh at them, call them names profane!

A murderer, drug dealer and a crackbrain…
They have been freed this year, have they no brain?
Everyone who was freed and committed a crime again!
I’ve proved at catching runaways; you are inane…
Parole Boarders have no morals to maintain,
Freeing murderers to kill again is inhumane!

Parole Boarders are as guilty… of this, I am certain…
Off the crimes committed by the freed-early lurdane!
Are the idiots’ drug addicts, or do they use enflurane?
Cause the arseholes free killers again and again?

We (UK) have 246 Parole Board members. It’s agreed,
The highest-paid member gets £166,560 indeed!
The Prime Ministers’ pay, this does exceed!
Justice for the innocents killed by Murderers freed…
The wife, husband or child victims’ families…

Guilty Parole members should be locked up or sauteed,
On bread and water, with the occasional fried centipede,
I wouldn’t say I hate or loath those that intercede…
Indeed one or two must-have accurately refereed?
Too many freed killers kill again! For revenge or greed!

LATE SNIPPET

Got Him!

Fair enough!
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