Sarcasm

Inchcock Today: Ode to Ageing Confusions – Part 1⅔rds Ending with Inchies Forecast for the World!

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The Birthing of Inchcock

It had to come, he was welcomed unappreciatively,
By his Park Drive smoking mummy…
She dropped her fag ash all over Inchies tummy…
Sneered and told the Midwife, Emily…
“Don’t want it; throw it in the Trent straight away!”

Not the most pleasant welcoming lambing…
Midwife Emily, years later, fact confirming!
I asked Mother if it were true, her replying…
“Yea, but for a less than 3lb lump birthing…”
“You caused me a lot of hurting!”…
Then she started absconding… the police pursuing!

Schooling

The worst of all up then his schooling,
Him being so thick, no real educationing,
Each school day is dedicated to just surviving…
Avoiding teachers’ attention advancing,
Avoiding his touching and clutching…
And the gangs beating and bashings!

Working For a Living

Dad got him a job, morning newspaper delivering…
Then more rounds, Sundays and evenings…
Now he was more confused, earning a living,
At fourteen, he began his first proper working…
He did his best, never any shirking!

He wishes he’d been clever enough for apprenticing…
But he wasn’t, and this is no bullshitting…
16 now, interest grew in his ding-a-ling…
Joan, her name, a pretty little thing…
Who claimed she was about to be birthing…
At first, Inchcock thought of bragging…

He discovered that Joan did female wrestling…
While he wrote crap poems, wordsmithing…
T’was found that Joan had been lying…
She was not about to be multiplying!
For Inchy, there’ll be no betrothing!

Times, Depressing…

Memories of his failure, he keeps unearthing,
It’s himself his is mentally badmouthing,
He realised he was unlucky when around forty…
He’s grown old early, was getting more portly…
Depression grew worse shortly…

He needed mental stimulus strengthening…
He’s still not had any at seventysomething…
He’d hoped for better luck but didn’t win a farthing!
Did the lottery for many years, never won anything…
Won the pools one week, though, amazing!

Not a lot, hardly enough for bequeathing,
2/6d – (12½p) winnings he would be receiving,
His pools plan cost him 75p (15/-d), always losing!
And wrong choices and options choosing!
His life is forever error and mistakes replenishing!

Whoopsiedangleplops Acceptance!

Now, he sees that his life is like thirst-quenching,
Sanity-saving drinks have never been emerging!
Only his Thought-Storms will get any turbocharging…
His ever further ageing ailments, always twinging…
His mental stability… well, that’s beyond salvaging,
Sadly, due to his own misjudging and mismanaging!

Of course, he wished Dementia Doreen would go away…
But most clearly, she is with him every single day…
No matter Inchie, may hope, plead and may pray!
He’s bald nowadays, so worries not about going grey…
His memory and brain working more absentmindedly!

Physical Problems

Cataract Kathleen is his ailment most vexing…
The earholes are second, the wax is grid-locking,
The diminishing hearing is quite shocking!
Neuropathy Pete has his leg and handshaking!
Inchie still hits doors when through them he’s walking!

Things Wot Inchie Can No Longer do…

Here, he lists the things he’s never been found doing…
At least for a few years, there’s been no canoodling!
Surprisingly he misses doing his cobbling,
Resting, relaxing, unwinding, or chilling!
He can’t even manage to do the kettle descaling!

Incapable now, of drooling, duelling, hoping, driving…
Coping with problems or their abnegating…
Ballooning, javelining, footballing,
But: he’s excellent at frowning and bumfuzzling!
And bad odeing, and body-fattening!
And he’s the perfect mind & body for malfunctioning!

The Future?

Inchies Forecast for the World!

Ah, the future, to Inchie, it’s not very enticing…
For him, just the usual mistake-making and doddering!
More Thought-Storms, memorise of failings, so agonising,
He’d like to undergo a brain reinstalling…
Impossible, of course, that’s Dementia Doreen lurking?

After a life of ever belittling,
Now he’s ever bungling…
Tripping, stumbling or falling…
On a bad day, you’ll find him burbling…
A good day, he might be yodelling!

But good rays are rare…
Hardly ever, to be fair…
Maybe a decent minute or two here and there?
You can see why the old man’s in despair?
For company, he even welcomes the dentists’ chair!

He’s always on a downer; at least he’s consistent?
Yet a good chinwag and laugh, he is not resistant?
But he feels so sorry for those whose lives are distant…
The whippersnapping youngsters, not the convalescent…
What does the future hold for them? No contentment?
Wars, violent crime, people becoming intolerant…
Gangsters, politicians, getting more fiscally corpulent…
Fracking, rainforest destruction, morals corrodent!
Worries, price rises give fears, making folk crapulent,
Which uses up their funds quicker; it’s totipotent!
Putin may yet change God’s design, the rodent!
Proving the turd is untouchable, cunctipotent!

Why does Putin attack with impunity?
Proving to the world his inhumanity?
If also, his degree of egocentricity?
If we interfere, we’ll lose our power, electricity?
Proving our powerlessness and ignominy!

Putin

He does not look it; he’s showing serenity?
He claims to have compassion and benignity…
Or is that look, snottiness and solemnity?
Indeed no caring, just in hatred in the vicinity!
As he kills without care and utter impunity!

The West’s response shows no dignity…
Scared to death, showing nothing, of authenticity,
But what can we do with a man of such insanity?
His inhumanity is of outstanding durability…
Stop him? We do not have the ability!

From being attacked himself, he has autoimmunity…
Cause the West doesn’t have the guts or edacity…
We have our own failings, our own disunity…
This war has no opportunity of curability…
And that brings out amongst many detestability!

Ukrainian Spirit?

What a man, President and Ukrainian!

Once Putin wins, it will be more challenging than he thinks,
May the West challenge him to a game of tiddleywinks?
Volodymyr Zekenskyy, the man who doesn’t shrink!
Who compared to Pucking Putin, the far better man, I think!

Local News Snippets – Part 12⅗ths

/ Inchie / 2 Comments

Local News Snippets

Whoever did this, is the lowest scumball,
With no morals, decency or pride at all!
Humanities decline is continual,
They are without care and principal…
Shamefully these crimes are not unusual…
Nor in London, Leeds, Manchester and Walsall,
Yet, no worse than many politicians in Whitehall!

What? She’s drunk a bottle of Baccardi!
Should have stuck with tea, safer, you see?
Or stuck to massaging just the man’s knee!
I wonder if she offered him an apology?
58-years old she acted rather adolescently,
Should have known better, putting it bluntly,
I think she really should have consulted me!

Cor blimey, an increase in cases, well blow me!
We are not yet from Covid, going to be free!
Caused by the citizens’ recent complacency…
Going back in shops without masks, crapulently!
And nightclubs, get-togethers, restaurants too!
But that’s just jealousy… things that I can’t do!

Well, these two scumbags will test the jurisprudence!
They are totally unaware, of the harm and despair…
Concerned on where their next fix comes hence!
The harm caused to innocent victims? They do not care!
They’ll ignore help offered of rejuvenescence…
Their next needle or drink, in the dustbin they share!
The young, old, weak are all targets – so be aware!

The poor things have sunken low with flatulence…
Are in need of help really, through their indigence…
They get the drug money, through grandiloquence…
But mostly muggings old folk, and belligerence!
Letting them of lightly, has proved its idempotence…
Satisfying me, of their existence, nature of feculence!

The poor bus driver, need a number-two, he decided…
So, off to the only one in town, he was riveted!
Closed down, vandalised since he last visited!
This left him nonplussed and he fidgetted…
Can a nasty-underpants accident be thwarted?
It frit him a few times when he farted…
The Council can be so cold-hearted!

Serious Comment from Inchcock
This scares me, now I’m in the early stages of Vascular Dementia, I’m getting nervous. After getting Peripheral Neuropathy, then having the stroke, the hospital had to send me to a ‘Home’ for three weeks, before I could be sent back to my flat. Some of the things I saw there and had to endure was frightening, and that Nottingham Council Home, had a good H&S rating! Eventually, I suppose it will have to come to this… it’ll be worse next time, with the Cataracts not being seen to, the Glaucoma and right eye Saccades will all have to be done after the Cataracts. Each Cataract could take, according to the NHS site up to 48 weeks waiting time, and I have both eyes to be treated! And cannot have another eye test and new spectacles until they have all been treated successfully. With Vascular Dementia Doreen getting a better grip on me slowly, I worry!

Nice to see 3-years for his female accompanist,
19 years for Jake, the young scum murderist?
But let’s not get too happy and alarmist…
It’s not long enough for this adiaphorist,
Whoever gave this sentence, a good few years were missed!

A least they caught him, of that I am pleased…
He’ll likely be out in ten years, for that I am pissed!
A life term should be that… or is there summat I’ve missed?
Murderers’ sentences should be increased!

Far too early they are freed…
So many of them to kill again indeed!
No deterrent, no hardships to intercede!
They should be fed on carrots and swede…

If they behave… on grilled meat flies they can feed!
Do the killers no harm to be ravished…
Then they can have their toenails revarnished?
Get exercise from a velocipede…
Do their own washing, clean up after they’ve pee’d…

Well, well, another Nottingham Murder!
There are lots of murders for a Wearsider,
To some areas, it’s a matter of pride!
Like in Liverpool, London and Tynesider
Not in for a resident Togolander…
But far less than for a Thailander,
Sorry, I’ve started to meander…
Back to the Local murders, makes me shudder,
Stabbings and shootings, locally we are a titleholder,
More murders than anywhere in England… Per Capita!
Two, within a mile; I’m getting scarederer!

As a rule, all 3 Green Houses are usually missed,
I expect this, I’m not lucky if you get my grist…
From doing this game, I can’t resist…
This week’s record of hits each day, well if you insist…
0,0,1,0.1, yet hitting two in five days; I was impressed…
I’m feeling rather pleased and chuffed!

Inchcock Today: Ode to Sanity – Part11⅒th

/ Inchie / 3 Comments

ODE TO THE THOUGHT-STORMS
Inspired while Inchy was waiting for the action to start at his mornings’ Porcelain Throne visitation. It took a while!

The Thought-Storms on the Throne are getting nastier!
No respite, the evacuation stopped halfway, I got edgier…
The questions came at me; it couldn’t be crappier…
It’ll be a while before the pain stops, and I feel any happier!

Any logic in the Thoughts couldn’t have been scantier…
From the fear of loneliness, Putin, and questioning Santa!
Should I have a mug of tea or a can of Fanta?
The Thoughts mingled became silly and schleppier…

Hopes, then worries, self-pity, to pathetic fear!
Strangely, after so many years, I fancied a beer!
The brain was making me feel dizzy, oddly queer…
The nose began to run, and it got even leakier!

My confidence in coping died, I became even qualmier…
The Thought-Storm was driving me balmier…
I noticed that my stomach looked lardier…
And Little Inchies fungal lesion got itchier?

The Thought-Storms had me by the jugular…
I tried to fool them and acted jauntier…
Talking to myself, battling the brain,
I couldn’t move because of the evacuation pain!
The whole situation became worse again…
When Neuropathic Pete got me shaking, jitterier!

I knew that later on, things would calm down, likelier…
Suddenly the room felt cold, much parkier…
I even began to shake and shiver?
Gawd, things were getting nigglier!
I felt I was going even loonier!

The evacuation flowed again, which made me panickier,
Should I give a push, or leave it, which would be riskier?
Then the Thought Storms got even bolshier…
And the room felt like a fridge; it got so much chillier?
Was I still in the recliner dreaming? Or going crazier?

Then for once, I got luckier…
I stood up, feeling pluckier…
The evacuation ended alright,
As I pushed with all my might,
It had been a struggle and fight,
I’d won, no bleeding, I felt leerier…

For the Thought Storms stopped then…
As stubbed my toe on the tungsten…
I don’t usually appreciate the pain often…
But the Thought-Storms stopping was a gem!

Part of the Inchies True Make Them Laugh In Ode Series

Inchcock Today: Diary A fresh of breath air!

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

Inchcock Today

Liaringly A Super Day

Tuesday 22nd February 2020

Well, yer see… it’s not easy… is it? Life

03:20hrs: Up for a wee, knocked over my cold cup of tea, said summat like, “Well blow me”, and got the computer on. Concentrated on getting yesterday’s blog finished off.

Which, amazingly, without any interruptions, apart from needing a few leaks, I’d got done by 05:00hrs. And decided to get the ablutions sorted out before any Carer came calling.

05;10hrs: A bit of clunking from the flat above. I made my way to get the clothes and off into the wet room.

Off, full of vim, and whistling, to do the ablutioning,
A mock-contentment was absolutely blossoming!
Shaving with only the one little cutting…
Fair enough, Cartilage Kathy was twinging…
Botherless dressing and nappy changing…
I felt as if I was only fortysomething!
Doing fine no Whoopsies or dingdonging,
Nowt that was alarming or discouraging,
Did all, mostly painless medicationalisationing!

Freshened up, for the after-shave I was foraging…
The sink suddenly made a lot of guggling?
I checked to make sure I’d not left the sink plug in,
Smug-Mode Adopted, no head or shoulder-banging,
There really was no depression or self-admonishing,
As the after-shave, on my face, I was sploshing…
Peripheral Neuropathy Pete started prancing…
The right leg Schuhplattler flailing dancing…
I ended up with a thud, bottom on the hard floor,

My reaction was whimperingly poor,
The ankle, knee and bum were sore!
Getting back up took time, for sure,
Phorpained the knee and bum some more…
It might ease the pain, but it’s not a cure…
I can imagine myself limping forever!

I limped with two sticks (Literally) back to the kitchen, kettle on, went for a wee-wee, washed the dandies, took a Codeine, made a brew of Thompsons Punjana. Had yet another wee-wee and got back on the computer.

Spent hours and hours on creating the Snippets blog.

I went out to take a photo of the end car park. But got distracted… I do that a lot, you know. Bits of whatever it was were falling on my head. They were coming from the crumbling ceiling inside the balcony! A bit worrying that was! Cracking plaster and paint, and holes appearing above the sliding doorway! I must inform ILC (Independent Living Coordinator), Oberstgrüppenfuhreress, Warden and Primo Ballerina, Warden Deana. See if she can have a decker and what she thinks about it.

It’s a little reminiscent of living in the old house in Carrington. Although that was built in 1909, these flats were modernised in 2019. They both had about the same amount of cracks in the roof. Hahaha!

Many hours were spent on blogging. It’s not easy at all since the eyes started going, and it doesn’t help with Peripheral Neuropathy, Pete and Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley giving me daily problems. Humph!

The wee-weeing frequency had died down. I got the potatoes in the slow-cooker and tended to the medical checks belatedly.

Blood Pressure was down nicely, but:

  I was wrapping the tubing around the casing to replace the sphygmomanometer, and Peripheral Neuropathy Pete gave me a little jerking session. The BP machine ended up hitting the radiator and under the desk on the floor. I got the precious picker-upperer and retrieved it. I was going to try it then, but the need for another wee-wee arrived, and thanks to Vascular Dementia Doreen, I forgot all about it. Now I hope it still works on the following readings.

A more significant concern then – the body temperature was showing as 33.7°c! Well below the minimum of 35. I tried the ear thermometer, which showed up as ‘Low’. Is it me doing it wrong, machine kaputt? I just don’t know!

Finally, I completed the ‘Local Snippets’ blog and got it sent off. Facebooked, WP comments and on the WordPress Reader.

Cleaner Esther did it again… she came in without ringing the chime, and naturally, I did not hear her until she started giving some stick for being overweight. She asked if I had any laundry, boy did I! Then he moaned about me using Meridian, who, after the last disgusting state of my returned washing, crammed into the bag, creased… I would like to stop paying for and using. It shows great disrespect, I think.

Off Esther went to the laundry room, talking all the time as she walked away from me. I’ve not the foggiest idea what she was saying.

Pressed on with the template for this blog in the morning for about an hour. Then I got the meal prepping done.

Esther returned, forever talking and telling me off. She’s such a character; bless her. You’ve got like her, despite her aggressiveness. I found I was using the wrong hoover. I was too fat and should wear the shirts that “You have spilt bleach on!” “Wear them at night only!” So, I did last night. Hehehe! There were many other rollicking, but thank heavens she spat them out while in the other room, and I couldn’t hear what she was saying.

Then, the Carer did the same as Esther and came in without alerting me with the door-chime. I was in the kitchen at the sink straining the garden peas; I think it was Carer Charlie or Kiya. But that’s only a guess. Dementia Doreen, again! She got the medicines sorted in no time.

Not one of my better efforts, for more than one reason. Here they are: I made far too much

① I made far too much. ② The J Sainsbury short-dated garden peas tasted puckingly bad, and most were left untouched. ③ The potatoes were tasteless! ④ The bacon was soggy and too fat! However, the sausages, tomatoes, Sourdough bread, banana (Oh, I remember now, Esther also told me that bananas are too fattening for me to eat – well, she cares… Haha!), and mandarins in orange juice were all good! Overall, my Taste Rating was 5/10. Humph!

The precious, kind Carer Julie called. We had a natter after sorting the prescriptions out. What an Angel ♥. She said hello to Billum and HRH, hoping the tiny leaflets were liked. Who I hope reads this. ♥

As I was sulking and taking the things into the kitchen to be washed, the sunset was beautiful!

I put the tray down and got the camera.

The top shot I took from the door as I reentered the kitchenette.

I opened the window to take this one on the left for the next two. Slightly zoomed in.

So peaceful and serene. I had to force myself to come away… although I did have some encouragement by needing yet another wee-wee. And I’d not been drinking much tea! Bootiful!

I got down in the £300, second-hand bought, c1968, nauseously beige-coloured, not-working, rusty, rickety, difficile, crumb-covered tatty recliner. And pencilled this little ditty on the notepad pages.

Mother Nature’s Sunset

Looking at these sunsets, was it in a dream?
Beauty, peace, nature so pristine!
Sweeter than just a sunbeam…
Even with eyesight, not overly keen…
I wished the view was on a touchscreen…
You’ll never see such warmth on a screen,
Views magnificent, nothing in between…
Mother Nature doeth capture my esteem,
That’s why butter is better than margarine!

I Fank You!

Local News Snippets – Part 13⅔rds

/ Inchie / 16 Comments

Local News Snippets – Part 13⅔rds

Not much today, folks.

But even Nottinghamians can have off days, criminally!

We anticipate high winds from Storm Dudley,
To be nearing Nottingham on Friday…
These storms I consider dangerous, antisocially,
I shall be acting rather claustrophobically…
Hemmed indoors, warm and well away…
From wet rain and winds fully…
Taking my tablets, drinking tea, convivially!

Ah, the new cases have dropped a bit…
Yet in our complex, another six have caught it?
In Winwood, Winchester and Woodthorpe Courts,
And staff as well, say the verbal reports…
And, I’m feeling a little out of sorts…

Not a very wise thing to do; a prosecution is now due?
With the number plates being the same too?
Not that I have any strong view…
Driving I’m no longer allowed to do,
Oh, I’ll have to rush to the loo…

Yes, you guessed it, a Chinese takeaway they did own,
They got a decent fine, which I fully condone…
Two years ago, they were done, for cooking a thighbone,
And selling stolen bottles of zabajone!

Do the scumballs of Nottingham start early?
Kids now live life so nastily, violently…
Copying Dad, who is not very fatherly…
Taking their pleasures intravenously?
Do they bother about the law? Not particularly!

Another violent youth for us to worry about!
My biggest concern is his future fallout…
That he will be a criminal, there is little doubt…
For him, the weekend will not mean a meal out…
It’ll be mugging someone; use his head for a kickabout!
The law and rules are made for him to flout…
Another one, for the life of a bully and lout!

Sometimes there’s no escaping the law, you know…
You must avoid any type of emotional imbroglio,
It’s not always the evil men, scum or a wino…
So, off to prison, another one will go…
I notice not many Fathers or Vicars in there, though?

A bit vague this report is, to me?

Humph!

Friday, the threat is of Storm Eunice!
I’m not surprised to hear of this…
The weather forecasting is always remiss,
I had an accident during Storm Alice,
Cost me my car, but I did get some bliss…
I fell in love with Nurse Mavis ♥

My postcode crime has gone up somewhat,
8.2%, It might be considered to be a lot…
No mention of the two murders, what?
The four people who got themselves shot?
Or the baby strangled to death in his cot!
That makes seven… are they in the other crime slot?

Inchcock Fights Power-Point Paul Twice in two days!

It was a losing battle each time. Brought on by a combination of Dizzy Dennis, both times, with Peripheral Neuropathy Pete assisting on the first clouting of the power box by Inchcock.

Just a little lump on the head yesterday. Today, after toppling over onto the box, the body-mass, and there’s a lot of it nowadays, slid like a massive jellyfish, down the box and wall, creating a mess of fleshiness crumpled on the floor. Thus, a little bruising and scratches on his man-breasts, nose and chest.

Further snippets on this subject may follow later.

The Nottingham Lads News Snippets in Ode

Inchcock Today – Saturday 29th January 2022

/ Inchie / 4 Comments

Saturday 29th January 2022

After another ‘orrible night of ever waking up, and Thought-Storm attacks, with a few nocturnal hobbles to the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee-Bucket), for painful, partly uncontrollable urinating; And having to clean and freshen up from the effects of the PMD (Pre-Micturition Dribbles), and CMD (Cessational Micturition Dribbling and splashes), all of varying nature.

One is like a torrent, belting out with no control over it and suffering from the splashback. The next, so painful and barely a trickle that somehow still managed to spray over my pyknic, wobbly, midriff more than found its way into the NWWB! Then I had to clean up, freshen up, and back down in the £300, second-hand, c1968, eyesorely-horrendously grungy beige coloured, haemorrhoid-testing, unfit-for-use, recliner.

I seemed to nod off again quickly enough each time, but sleep never lasted more than a few minutes – then it was shooting awake again, and back to the mess-making, to be cleaned up again, wee-weeing.

Around 04:10hrs, I gave up trying to prompt Sweet Morpheus. And decided to get the kettle on, take some photo’s of the dim view of the sky and end car park. I got the kettle on and required yet another wee-wee?

I took a photo with the Canon camera. It’s getting old and wrong now, just like me. (Hehe!) The spring on the SD card has gone, and Canon sometimes doesn’t recognise the card in the camera!

The shot I took of the end car park was far too dark to see much at all. So, I had to go on CorelDraw and adjust shadow, brightness, contrast and intensity to turn it into how it looks here on the right. Smug-Mode-Engaged!

This is the first time a car has not been parked on the yellow no parking zone! Well, while I’ve been taking the photos anyway.

It looks a little eerie if that’s the word I’m looking for. Nightmarish enough to be used as a ghost-themed book cover?

I couldn’t do enough work on the second shot of the view from the kitchen window. Sulk-Mode-Engaged

I made a belated brew of Glengettie, and I remembered that the Health Checks were supposed to be done again. So, I took a Cocodomal and Poo-Hardener, (Gooey last night, and messy! And tended to the Health Checks. I have the maximum SYS, Dia and Pulse figure safely put away; if they exceed them, I’ve got to call the paramedics. I put them safely away seems to have been lost to Vascular Dementia, Doris. Tsk! I started of with the checking. Took the BP and got these results, which I am confident, are well below the danger zones the nurse gave me.

All three readings were nuanced! It’s been a while since I was told I could stop doing the regular sphygmomanometerisationing. Since I started again, I’ve missed doing a few of them.

Then the temperature was taken. 34.9° c; I felt this was fine, but I checked on Dr Google anyway: “Mild +hypothermia (32–35 °C body temperature) is usually easy to treat. However, the risk of death increases as the core body temperature drops below 32 °c. Nae, bother methinks.

I made another brew and destroyed a banana. Made an Iceland order, then I took a stand-up shower at the sink.

A little early to use the noisy shower yet.

And it went jolly well… no, amazingly well! Fantastic, in fact! Here are a few things that pleased me greatly: Little Inchies fungal lesion had hardly bled at all! Shaving, one, I say ONE tiny nick only! Only two dropsies in the whole session! I had to use the Porcelain Throne while doing the ablutions… and it was smooth, bloodless, and not in the slightest bit messy or gooey! Double Smug-Mode Utilised! Only one walking into anything, the door as I left the wet room.

I had just one naughty that bothered me. A bad one; due to my hitting my ankle on the metal tray as I pulled my foot away. I stubbed my toe on the bucket that just had been cleaned and disinfected.

The state of the veins in the ankles and feet was not a pretty sight, but overall… Yippy!

I had a closer look at the vasculitis and venous thromboembolism veins on show. I think these are what the cancelled appointment at the QMC Anticoagulation and Deep Vein Thrombosis (DVT) was about? However, at 3.5 last time, the Warfarin level was spot on!

The Carer arrived after I’d dressed and gone on the computer. The Carer was in a rush, missed checking my swallowing the tablets, and forgot to take the waste bag to the chute for me (again). But she was obviously in a hurry, bless her. Not an easy job for the gals to do, with different people having differing, altering needs.

I now find myself in a position to give you an updated taste report on the £3 mini box of the Marks & Spencers Marmite Dinky Cheese Pinwheels I got from Ocado. Tasteless, Crap! Having eaten some of them.

Made a start on this blog creating. During which, the wee-weeing has grown less frequent – Phew!

I came across last nights sunset photographs. Both from the kitchenette window. I’m not sure why I took two that were of the same area, basically? I should imagine that Peripheral Neuropathy Pete would be to blame, and the finger must have stuck unfeelingly to the button?

I went on the WordPress Reader to see what folk have posted. Then answered some WordPress comments. Then did some TFZer Facebooking until…

Time to get the fodder sorted out – Oh yea!

Got the Cornish Pastie into the fridge; set the times. Potatoes were already in the slow cooker, and peas were on a low light in the saucepan.

A sort of fumble-thud took place in the obese stomach area, making the flab wobble! A little belching and a few stabbing pains. On my way to the wet room, the rumbling began again. I tore off the trews and PP’s and unceremoniously plonked me botty on the Throne… the action started immediately!

All seemingly over and done, I had the sensation that it wasn’t yet. So, I had a go at the easy crossword puzzle book. And very nearly got four clues answered but made do with three. (Hehehe!)

After ten minutes or so, the backup evacuation came. I was so glad I stayed in situ for its possible arrival.

Then, having washed and cleaned things, I realised I could smell something like burning… I dropped the nail brush…

Panic, flap, heartbeat racing, I rushed out to get to the kitchenette to see what I’d done. Casually shoulder-charging the door frame again on my way – now having to contend with Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley, I lunged my way into the kitchen, nose twitching and looking for signs of smoke from the oven… I did feel a dirty great Grade A, class one fool! It was the peas that had been burnt, as for the Cornish Pastie in the oven… I’d not even turned the thing on! So, Vascular Dementia Doris had got me bleeding, bruised, bashed about and going barmy. Left me with a right load of cleaning and sorting out; Trowing away the burnt peas, scrubbing the saucepan, getting some more on the boil, wet room to clean, PPs needed changing. I got the oven on again and reset the timer.

Then, as I was getting the tray and things out, I had another thud in the stomach – no, not the bowels or bladder this time – a sudden fear that I’d left the tap running in the wet room! I grabbed Metal Mickey and went with all haste to check. I believe I might have said something like, “You stupid fart of an old ♠ 6† f=ing idi⅛¬” Something along those lines! I could have cried with joy when I first found everything okay in the room… then I was coming out, I stubbed my toe against the stand-up drier radiator!

If There Is A Lord…

I’d like to ask him/her some questions; this’ll be awkward…
If there is a God, un he finds I don’t believe, I could be buggered?
Here goes: Why did you make me earthbound…
With the minuscule willie wot I found?
Girl or Boy problem? I’ll be bound!

My young life was cruel, but I was only semi-hard…
Mam and Dad fighting, she left… I ate bread and lard!
Or on the weekend sometimes an Oxo cube or a pilchard,
Fast forward, why take Suzie from me? It made me hard!
Memories, whatever you do, I’ll not discard!

My hair fell out at 20; others at 80 have plenty, tit!
I tried to be a good man, my hearing went, have you heard?
Then you stopped my heart, a mechanical one replaced it…
Ulcer, being shot, hernias, life was haphazard…
Even my already mini-willy further withered!

I pressed on, expecting things to improve, with disregard…
Got shot again, and you sent me Stroke… Flashforward…
Made me redundant at 62; you are a wizard!
I survived that; Vascular Dementia to me, you catapulted!
Rotten teeth, poverty causes that and being demented…
The hearing gets worse, things are going downward…
Now both eyes Cataract, Saccades and they’re Glaucoma’d…

The money is getting low,
But of course, you’ll know…
I’ll have to rob an apple orchard,
Keeping tabs on your scoreboard?
Now, black depressions on me, you bestow!
The ailments make me fat when I should be like a scarecrow!

Oh, and why, with all the other crap, did you give me hammertoe?
I really have tried to be a decent fellow…
But bad luck seems to constantly flow…
To the little-willied idiot that you know…
The one with ever-increasing ailments, now it’s lumbago!
And, from the fungal lesion, blood continues to flow,
You even teased me last year with impetigo!

The funeral’s all paid for when I have to go…
Sorry I cannot muster any faith or belief, though…
I don’t believe in Christmas or Mistletoe…
I’ll be leaving behind a few friends, but many more foe,
Slowly I’m getting ready, feeling more mellow…
I’d love to leave behind me an afterglow…
Reincarnation? Oh, no, no, no!
Is it yet time for me to go?
Please let me know…

………………………………………………

Finally got the meal sorted out, served up and feasted upon with great relish and satisfaction.

It took me no time at all to entirely consume this nosh.

The black tomatoes were as perfect as one can get, most beautiful tasting! Sob! Shame it’s the last of them.

Only the Cornish Pastie was below par, but not by a lot. The plate and tray were scrapped of crumbs as well, into my mouth! Hehe! A Flavour Rating of 8.4/10.

As I was doing the washing up, I took three snaps of the dying sunset in the darkness.

The first one was taken straight ahead from the kitchenette window.

The next one was taken to the left. Amazing sky colouring again, I thought.

As I was getting ready to take a shot of the car park on Chestnut Way…

I knocked over the kitchen towel holder, which took the clock, a tub of Citric Acid and my mirror with it, on the way down to the floor! Thundergrongles!

They made a clattering noise as they met with the floor. Which I didn’t mind, cause Herbert in the flat above has been banging away all day, on and off. I hope he heard it, but I felt bad for the folks below my flat. Fantastically, no breakages from the mirror; the acid did not break open either! Wondered if my prayer in ode above had worked? Hehehe!

I got the car park photo taken. Then I got the cleaning up sorted out from the Accifauxpa.

Carer Valerie arrived, which was nice and cheered me up. A Carer who cares is a Carer you want to manage for you. There are a few. Well, many, but one bad apple can upset the apple cart and start the depressions. Hahaha!

The Nottingham Lads Diary – with Odeing

Inchcock Today: Life In Ode

/ Inchie / 4 Comments

Mind Control… or lack of…

What my mind is conjuring, and weirdly producing,
Has a new idiosyncratic strain that needs introducing…
A previously unknown worrying sense of doom-accepting?
You know, a sort of go with the flow, with no coercing,
This new deliberation of mental compliance is almost piercing!
It’s still a new thing, so I’m not going to start whingeing…
No moaning, cursing, complaining or penancing…
But, the control of my thoughts is indeed decreasing!

Kentucky Dream…

A dream only last night, I was in a house, tippytoeing…
Floating, searching, smiling, and happily singing!
It was where my cyber-friends Lisa & Billum were living…
Although they couldn’t hear me, to them, I started chatting…
I was aware this could just not be happening…
I cooked them a chilli stew and started the garnishing…
Left them a note with the meal, and started going…
Outside I was suddenly solid again and segueing…
Along a pathway… the dream started subsiding,
I found myself in my wet room… wee-weeing!

The justice system, I can’t help renouncing…
Criminals, murders freed early, to rob and kill again!
No thoughts of family members or victims; disgusting!
No realisation that they have given anguish and pain…
Pathetic parole board, free killers again, mind shuddering!
Is it the judges, parole board or murderers that are insane?

True Love Lost…

In 1964, I visited Grizelda, hoping she was in the mood for servicing,
She was very good to me, in fact, she was astounding!
For hours we were in heaven, sweating, exhilarating!
For the next session, I was already praying and waiting…
Then shattering news! Grizelda was departing…
But she gave me one last amazing trouncing…
Thus, the end of our fantastic romancing…
Gawd, how I loved our coupling and connecting!
She went home to München… bloody sickening!
One day I might find an affaire du Coeur again?

Confusions…

I ordered two-blade razors for shaving,
I used Morrisons. What should I have been expecting?
I got 5-blade razors for my shaving…
So, did my teeth, de-nasaling and washing…
Started shaving, I found it challenging…

The results were a smidge discouraging,
I’d already got bleeding molars from teeth-brushing,
The razor? I cut my finger on the plastic sheathing,
A tiny cut near the ear hole. Didn’t half sting…
Applying the aftershave to stop the bleeding,
Shuddering Shoulder Shirley started twitching…
Blood in the chest, floor and clothing…
As the Brute, I kept on sploshing…
I dropped the bottle on my foot; I was seething!
Farting about, I was very self-scathing…
But heroically carried on with my bathing!
Then walked into the doorframe, leaving…

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

Advice Received this Week

The Ophthalmologist: Take this leaflet and read it. The print was too small to read it!

The Ophthalmologist: Remember to phone the Doctor in two weeks to ensure that the Cataract operations application papers have gone through and the process started. No mention of what to do if they hadn’t – And does she really expect me to remember to do this?

Carer: (On me losing the TV remote control, I’ve never found it) You should put it in the same place every time! Well, I actually do try to, so good advice. It’s not clear cut, but falling asleep with the regular nocturnal somnambulant activity almost every night. I often find I wake and turn on the TV, get the crossword book, or, judging by the crumbs found in the folds of my stomach fat, indulge in nocturnal nibbling. But only discover this in the morning after waking. At first, I blamed the mysteries of Winwood Heights, the ghosts, wraiths, spectres, cacodemons, apparitions, and other grotesqueries haunting the hallways and lobbies searching for Inchcock. To create ambiguities, abstrucities, perplexities, misfortunes and botherations, scare, worry and confuse me! Sometimes, the furniture has been moved too. Shame! So, as sound as the advice was, it wasn’t practical for Vascular Dementia Doreen or me.

Carers – Warden Dean & the Nottingham City Council Commercial Debt and Revenue Recovery lady, and Bank Clerk: (Re the hundreds of pounds 3 months unpaid carer Bills to Meridian). “Don’t worry!”?

Dentist: (On being asked for the umpteenth time to take all my remaining teeth out) “I might be able to save the top front one…” After three have fallen out, the two previous ones she could save having been filled twice, then pulled. My confidence is low!

LookAfterYourEyes.org: The operation usually takes from 15 to 45 minutes. It is carried out under local anaesthetic, so you will be awake but not have any sensation in the area around your eye. Throughout surgery, you will hear the ophthalmologist explaining what they are doing, and you may see some vague movements around your eye. The ophthalmologist will make a tiny cut in your eye to remove the cataract and insert a plastic replacement lens. You will not usually need stitches, but your eyes will be covered to protect it from knocks after the operation.

You will be allowed to go home the same day, but you should have someone to go with you and look after you for 24 hours after surgery. Who?

If this means a Meridian carer, it would cost me a minimum of £440 for the 24 hours! Arghhh!

Just how does one go about declaring bankruptcy? Is it easy?

Part of the Inchies Make Them Laugh In Odes Series

Good Heavens! Good Luck!

/ Inchie / 8 Comments

A Tale In Ode; of Inchcock Having Good Luck!

I was sitting, doing the blog, Inchcock Today,
Got it nearly done, sorting out the scintillae…
When, crunch… much to my utter dismay…
The right patella plopped out of its socket!
Well, it shot out like a rocket!
Did it hurt, was I worried… Oh, nay!
Just don’t believe all I say, Hahaha!

After the shock, I tried to get it back in…
Too tender to do any banging…
After much-failed faffing…
I thought this needed help and medicating,
I had a bash at knee cap relocating,
To ease things and stop it stinging,
I could hobble, but Gawd, it was stinging!

The lady on 111 was very obliging,
Go to the hospital, she was saying…
So I did, bravely… I’m not bragging…
Finished the blog and was not cringing!
Set of to the QMC, without whinging.

By the time I got down to the ground floor,
Bearing in mind, I’m a bit of a procrastinator,
Should I be busing it there? Is this an error?
A taxi will be costly but will save some furore…
I’ll phone for one, but again a failure!
I’d left the mobile behind; what an adventure!

I shuffled painfully back into the elevator,
Up to the apartment, entered, and for sure…
Knocked my knee on the door furniture!
The pain turned to agony at the conjuncture…
I had a close look at the knee. Is it a fracture?

But luck, as you may know, is a fickle creature…
With swelling down to the fibula and tibia,
Gobsmackingly within minutes, the discomfiture…
The pain was showing signs of divestiture!
But the agony was still nowhere near miniature!

Now, amazingly, I was going far less squirming…
The knee cap to the socket I saw returning!
Which I thought was very easing and welcoming,
I hobbled far easier, for some more wee-weeing!

Of course, the thought ‘would it pop-out again?’…
I wasn’t too bothered if the bad luck came back again,
It’s bound to, assuredly, guaranteed, for certain…
But this knee-cap returning I can’t explain?

Good Luck? A stranger to my scatterbrain,
But I like getting it and hope to again…
Ayup! I walked into the doorframe…
Now I’ve got a new bruise and back pain!
That’s better, much more like my scene!
Was this whole escapade transpadane?

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Colophon, by Alto-Ego Inchie

Inchcock is still not capable of kneeling or genuflection,
He’s not a technician… more a poor theoretician!
Inchcock leans towards visualisation rather than realisation…
He’s used to existence with trepidation and tribulations,
Throwing his poor hearing and sight into the equation…
The fool accepts all his failures, hassles and aggravations!
Yet throughout, the old fool has shown great determination…
Patiently waiting for some good lucks germination…

Well, he got some yesterday…
His knee returned to the socket, of its own orchestration,
And what does Inchcock have to say?
“It burst out like a fulmination…”
“I failed to get it back in by manipulation!”
“Going to the hospital, realised I left my communication…”
“Back to flat for the phone, due to my vacillation…”
“Clouted me knee, which caused me much confusing elision…”
“So, Vascular Dementia Doreen proved to be my salvation…”
“I’d have missed this miracle cure without memory erasion.”

Hence: Ailments mental and physical can cause depression…
Hypertension, apprehension, confusion, even tintinnabulation!
Procrastination; and indeed, physical and mental putrefaction
Infection, infestation, digression, marginalisation…
Occasionally like yesterday, it can cause jubilation!
Well, that’s my impression!
Time for some self-inebriation?

Part of the Inchies True Make Them Laugh Ode Series

Inchcock: Local News Snippets in Ode

/ Inchie / 14 Comments

This week the News Snippets are reported, recorded and commented on, by The Nottingham Pensioner Lad, Inchcock (89).

Alto-Ego Inchy: I apologise for the Odeing included in the comments. But the lad has had minimal education. Now, with him contracting Vascular Dementia, as well as various other ailments; Hearing aids, mechanical ticker fitted, Glaucoma, Saccades, Cataracts, Stroke, Peripheral Neuropathy. His tendency to either waffle on, lose the plot or regularly forgets what he was doing, where he is, or where he was going; does not make for readable poetry. But there’s no stopping him. He only sulks when I point out these and other failings to him. Sorry.

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

Well, this looks good,
Be happy surely we should?
Read the next one and chew the cud!
Your interpretation will go down with a thud!

I’m aware of how they feel, every patient,
I’m waiting on may a medical appointment,
Dentist, Chiropodist, Doctors yearly check…
That’s been a wait of three years, by, heck!
Audio, DVT and Cardiac…
Then the operation on the cataracts,
Glaucoma and Saccades and the Diabetes in fact…
Will I live long enough to get my treatments?

Sozzled, drugged up, and a man with a violent bent,
But will there be a return to prison requirement?
Easier for him to get drugs in there for his sustainment?
Maybe they’ll offer him some mental treatment?
Tell him sorry if this is inconvenient…
Give him some cocaine and pay his rent?

Run of the mill stuff, for the Nottingham creed,
I understand that he was a gynaecologist,
Nothing suspicious, the chap wasn’t a druggist…
Police won’t look too far into this…
With nine officers attacked and on the sick list!

The Police and I…
Have no idea why,
So sorry the lad had to die…
RIP son… It makes you cry!

No matter why – Animals!

All this violence, drugs, gangs, I comprehend?
Slave importers, youths will re-offend…
No deterrent do the courts send…
Viciousness threatens, it’s today trend…
And I think it will only worsen!
A judge was I thought the only person…
Who could, these crimes amend…
But no, so I’m scared and disheartened!.

Self-Centred Scum!

Well, this is interesting news for Sherwood…
A 48% increase in crime figures, should…
make my blood boil, make me angry and rude!
I’m not surprised, I’ve not seen a policeman since May!
Didn’t even see one on Tuesday…
Plenty of yobboes lurking…
Don’t suppose they are working?
I just pray they don’t mug me today!.


Raliegh, John Players, Debenhams, Topshop, Oasis, WH Smith, Burton & Dorothy Perkins, River Island, Banks closing down, Virgin Media sold to Liberty Global and has been ruined by them, Macintoshes, Rowntrees, Frys, Cadburys all sold to Nestles…

But fret not, we have 14 new takeaway shops opened… even though 12 went bankrupt in the last year?

Well, looking at my arm that’s encouraging.

So, basically, she’s got 25 days, what an hour a session? Going to some Community Centre; probably gets a free meal, and she can do some drug trading at the same time. I assume that courts will be providing her with a taxi both ways?

Inchcock’s Local News Snippets in Ode

Breaking News – Political Odes

/ Inchie / 11 Comments

Tuesday 11th January 2022

Politics today

Political farces, what a worrying thought,
Criminals abound, but not so many are getting caught!
But always motorists, cannabis users, end up in court?
Easier for the police… whose number is getting short…
Trying to understand why; I get bestaught!

The court’s sentencing seems unfair, unequal…
I thought judges were intellectual, but there’re ineffectual!
One lad had cannabis 2 ounces, got six months jail,
And armed robber, got tagged, no jail, another fail?
A shoplifter… charged 28 times, no jail; makes you wail!

If a citizen is violent, acts antisocially…
Or shoplifts, pickpockets occasionally…
Very few of them are dealt with properly,
But park in the City Centre, illegally…
Judges, magistrates, come over all schoolmasterly,
Massive fines, driving bans, even prison, arbitrarily!

With sentences for criminals, magistrates are miserly,
Youth beats up an 88-year-old, the youth could not get a job,
Magistrate ‘feels for him’ slaps his wrist, supposedly wisely…
Sent him home; on the way, he hit a woman in her gob!
The Magistrate should retire, obviously…

A Judge-parole-boarder, who frees murderers to kill again,
Are guilty of the crime repeated, for certain!
Their career in law should be slain, I wouldn’t complain…
If they were locked up until Jesus returns again!

Prisoners get the same healthcare and treatment as anyone outside of prison. Bollocks! I can’t get to see my Doctor. Would a prisoner have to wait for weeks to get a Dentist appointment? Just asking!

Prisoners can get Specialist support:

If they have drug or alcohol problems, Coronavirus, HIV or Aids. Are disabled or have a learning difficulty.
I get no help with my disabilities; I have to pay for Carers. Where’s my help with hearing, eyesight, Peripheral Neuropathy, Shaking Shaun, Duodenal Donald, Reflux Roger, Arthur Itis, Shuddering Shoulder Shirley, Back-Pain-Brenda, Walking, Vascular Dementia, Haemorrhoid Harold etc.? No!

♫ It was all over my jealousy ♫ Hehehe!