Inchcocks Local News Snippets – Part 1245⅓

Sherwood & postcode Local News

This morning, I’d like to start with the worst of YourArea news items. To get it out of my system; So maddening!

Double child killer Colin Pitchfork could be cleared for a move to open prison within months after being returned to jail because he was approaching young women.

  • Murderer Colin Pitchfork, 61, was arrested and recalled to prison.
  • The convicted killer had allegedly been ‘approaching young women’ while on walks.
  • But Parole Board is now considering moving him to an open prison setting 
  • Pitchfork was jailed for life in 1988 for the rape and murder of 15-year-old girls
  • He was released from Leyhill prison, near Tortworth, Gloucester., two months ago

What sort of demented, do-gooder idiots sit on Parole Boards? How often have we heard of released scum killing and committing the same crimes again? How can the panels be fooled so often into releasing people to kill again?

What is the solution? Is there one? Well, yes! But it would probably not be considered practical. The Civil Rightists would think my idea too reactive for the libertarians, namby-pambies, egalitarians and guilty themselves of the crimes that people they have freed, committed, members of the Parole Boards!

Above all, they would consider the costs of keeping criminal sleazebags long term in prison. No doubt encouraged to be lenient, or even bribed; threatened or maybe, instructed, by the Government of days Justice Minister and Home Secretary?

Justice Department Wasted Money

Dominic Raab’s department wasted a ‘staggering’ £238m on an array of botched projects last year; Electronic tagging systems that were never used and software so bad it is causing industrial disputes are among sources of waste at the Ministry of Justice! The biggest-ticket item driving up the level of waste was £98.2m on a new case management system for electronic tagging of criminals – which was then scrapped before it could be used.

The department also had to pay an extra £72.1m HMRC because it had incorrectly reported the employment status of some of its workers, being hit with a further £15m penalty for breaching the rules. Then, £14m was paid to private contractors running probation services for the department breaking their contracts early, even though those companies had failed to hit their targets to reduce re-offending! This part of the cash was returned to the Treasury.

So, a Governmental decision was made to free prisoners early on parole. Boy, have they got guilt on their hands now! Fungleturds! The accountableness for their complicity with the powers that be, to me, means they should be punished themselves.

Are these living-in-another-world enfants-terribles even aware of their blame, but the effects that their moronic namby-pamby, spineless, effete decisions have had on the innocents involved? The parents and relations of these two daughters, the other family members, schoolmates, friends. It’s ruined their lives too! Two wrongs don’t make a right, but it would have levelled the field if the animal Pitchfork had been executed.

So, how can we save money in and on prisons? We stop supplying Gym equipment, computers, telephones etc. then, stop giving them free medications. Mental and physical. Cut back to the type of food that I manage on, no luxuries. Baths or shower only once every six months. When they escape, it should be easier for the dogs to trace them. I am not proposing this for all prisoners, of course. Only the violent ones. And if possible, which it won’t be, bring back executions. But offer them a choice first, of which way they would prefer to go. Hanging will be out, though; that is cruel. Beheading, poisoning or being tied up securely and left in a cellar for three days with relatives and family of the murdered victims. I feel this would be more of a deterrent than the current system. Oh, and no visitors!

I got a bit carried away there! Ah, well, I’ll press on!

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Another murder in Nottingham. Stabbings, druggies, shoplifting, gangs galore. I don’t think I can take anymore!

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It sounds like another lost cause for the police.

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Firearms, drugs, organised slave trade, burglaries… I think we had a poisoning last week?.

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That’s the spirit, Your Honour; Nip this violence in the bud while they’re young. Scare them to death with your nerve-wracking punishments… Oh, tagging him? Fine!

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A little too close for comfort?.

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Blimey, £9.35 per prescription. Hand on, I’ll utilise the calculator to find out how much it might cost me… Strewth! Blimey and heckithump; £149.60 a month!

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Oh!

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LATE SNIPPETS

READ ALL ABARGHT IT!

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Naughty, nasty lady!

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 Inchcock’s Local News Snippets

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Haveth a great Day!

Listening in to Alto-Inchy and Inchy-Id, discussing Christmas


All the best to my faithful flock of followers all,
The masses who have remained so loyal,
To the rubbish I’ve posted, my error-ridden scrawl,
Be they funny, sad, pathetic or philosophical,
Christmas time again… although there is no snowfall…
I’ve got plenty of fodder in, all very edible,
Although Inchcock is unquestionably unintellectual…
His Odes come out mostly; sadly ineffectual,
My followers are precious; you are my windfall!
And, both of you are moral and mortal…
Thank heavens for the WordPress portal!

The Verbal Conflict I Listened Into

From my scrawled notes mostly, so accuracy may be limited. Certain words (naughty) have had to be substituted. I left the last word in; cause there was nothing worth replacing it with. Sorry!

Worra yo doing here? I am Alto-Id; you don’t recognise my superiority?

Never seen yer before, or heard of yer… Worra yo do then? Don’t bother answering, I’ll tell yer… I am the principle that pertains to pleasure, while you, the Alto Ego, is the principle that relates to reality.

Is yer? Well, I’m the one in charge ‘ere…

Hahahaha! Knob-rot, mush!

Do yer mean like Inchcock’s fungal lesion on his Little Inchy?

No, I am well aware of all of the idiots’ ways, whims and stupidity; I’ve been waiting in the wings and watching, learning for donkey’s years. My usage of the Knob-Rot indicated that you talketh rubbish, Alto!

Yer a bit nasty ain’t yer, almost cruel, I’d say. Inchcock is struggling with my existence, now you cum along, and it’ll likely as not send the old git bonkers… best you piss-off out of it mate!

Oh, dearie me, it’s as I feared. You’ve been in Inchcock that long. You have been infected by his senility and ignorance…

Owd on! I knew Rat-face when he was almost verging on normality, for a human-like. See, I’ve been here for ‘im forever! I’ve supported him through some terrible times and ailments, apart from mucking it up with his depressions; it’s me who gorrim through double pneumonia, cancer, duodenal ulcers, being shot… twice, his heart replacement, diabetes, peripheral neuropathy.

Piffle! Utter rubbish, you pathetic imitation of an Alto-Ego you!

What? I thought I wuss doing a good job… well, I was! After all that I’ve done to annoy him, I did not know if he was coming or going at times…

Exactly! That’s why I’ve been activated, see?

Err… no!

What about glaucoma, saccades, floaters and cataract, then? How come you’ve not addressed his vision problems then? Hey?

Well, I can’t physically mend them, can I? It’s my job to just ensure they annoy him as persistently as possible, innit?

You have no idea, have you? What’s the point in letting the git to go blind? How will that build your reputation in the Chakra-Id-Alto Corporation? You’ve got to do better, else you’ll not be moved into another body when he snuffs it… I’m telling you!

The CIAC management is more than happy with my performance in the 930038-530 Semi-male model Inchcock.

How do you know?

Well, they’ve not complained…

Have they sent you a monthly report for November yet?

Monthly Report? No, I’ve never had one.

Hahaha! You’re in the shit, mate! You could well get prematurely removed from 930038-530/TIT Semi-male model Inchcock and sent to a body that is mentally and physically undamaged…

Oh, my Gawd, no… Are you joking?

Nope!

How can any Alto-Ego cope with a human like that? I won’t stand a chance of worrying, scaring, frightening or intimidating them…

I know. This could mean the end of your existence Alto!

No, no, no, we live forever…

Only if the CIAC management deems that you are worthy.

Oh, shit! I was so happy here, a comfortable rotund over ample midriff, an uncomplicated, slow brain to peruse through at my leisure, without much intelligence or activity going on…

You are aware that the host body has the capability to eliminate you, are you? (Sounds of chucking in the background).

No, you’re wrong there…

Yer? What about CIAC Guidelines & Cautionary Advice 112,145,23 then?

Erm…

I’ll tell you. “In the event of any Alto-Ego failing to cause a suicide attempt within 72 years of occupation (Failed) of the aforesaid body; Any host at this time maintaining 70% of its maximum intelligence, 50% of its willpower, and 50% of its maximum concentration; can apply to it Id to eliminate any Alto-Egos from its earthly body – upon signing its soul over to the CIAC Soul Bank Ltd!

I ‘ave to think abarght this…

Take yer time, Alto; I’ll move on and inform Inchcock of his options…

NO! It won’t work cause Inchcock has nowhere near 50% of his concentration left. Only 10% of his memory…

And you think that I can’t retrieve it for him?

You wouldn’t?

Oh, yes, I can, easily!

Well, that’s not in the Spirit of the Chakra-Id-Alto Corporation? I’ve never been so happy before as I am within 930038-530 Semi-male model Inchcock has been. He’s so gullible, malleable, a right thicko to con and manipulate…

And I can change all that within a few seconds. By advising Inchcock of his options, Hehehe!

But I might have to go back to the lonely CIAO Retention Safe again? I’ve already had 2000 years in there before getting this posting? Oh, my dearest Id, whatever can I offer or do to prevent this from happening?

I may be tempted to say nothing to the idiot host under certain conditions…

Yes, yes…

One: You bow to my every whim, order and threat!

Erm.. go on…

Two: You openly admit to Ids being totally and unquestionably superior to Alto-Egos!

Mmm? Go on…

That’s it… if you agree, I’ll keep my gob shut! But it’s a one time only offer, so you have to decide now!

How do I know I can trust you?

How do I know I can trust you?

Oh, heck…

I’ll tell you what… As a ‘Class A’ Knight of the CIAO Id Convention, I swear this to be true! Sign the Oath stating these beliefs as written, and I’ll leave the Inchcock Host instantly, never to return.

That seems okay… Alright, I’ll do it, and you’ll disappear instantly?

You’ll never see me again!

Here you are then (Scribbling sound) and good riddance!

Hehehe!

You lying bastard!

Part-Ode To Getting Hospitalisationed

I woketh up with a sore throat and extra-tight chest,
Not exactly poorly, but not feeling at my best,
The Porcelain Throne found another abscess!
Work the ailments off; that would be best…
So I hand-washed the jumper and brown vest!.

When the shirt was finished being washed,
I saw the pots from last nights lone symposiast…
On the draining board, messy, unwashed!
Dropped the plate onto my toe it crashed…
So, I made a start on the blog, unabashed!.

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Change of Plan!

Upon seeing the twinkling lights at their prettiest…
I got out the Canon camera for a photo fest…

I tried to take some close-ups, appreciate them to the fullest,
Two came out looking the nicest…

Good work from the local Christmas lightists!
Ah, spotted some more; this one made me feel chuffed!.

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Carer Richard Arrives!

Onto the computer with the freshly brewed tea,
I didn’t pour it on it, just took it with me… Hehe!
An hour or so later, the door chime rang out to tell me…
Carer Richard had come to look after me, medically!

It seems that I must have looked worse than I felt this morning. For the lad was deeply concerned at my pastier than ever, face and violently shaking limbs! Which was appreciated. I explained about the sore throat and tight chest and had a job to stop him from calling for the paramedics at first.

When he gave me the medications, he saw the tablets coming back up fin the throat and out of the mouth onto the floor. (The missing teeth make it hard to stop them when this happens. Haha!) I still didn’t feel poorly, just out of sorts, but Richard phoned someone (111?) for advice. They, whoever it was, suggested he call for the paramedics. I explained further about my not feeling really bad, the food delivery that was due, and a call from Gill was expected, so I was not keen on missing them. When the medicine came back up, he called the ambulance for me. Bless him!

The food delivery arrived while we were waiting. Richard put the stuff away for me, and paramedics arrived. To chaps gave me a good going over. And ECG, temperature, and Blood Pressure. They recommended I go with them straight away to the Queens Medical Centre. I was still a midge reluctant, but Richard and the ambulancemen all thought it necessary, so I gave in.

My not being used to having three people talking simultaneously, a fair fluttering of flusterationing made me a little confused about what was going on.

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Prepping for the Journey!

The Walker would be needed, the medic was not too keen on it,
I relayed how much easier it is than relying on a walking stick,
One of the men conceded but was worried it going missing…
“You’ll be moved about on a trolley for hours. I’m not kidding!”
“So many get stolen, or at least go missing!”
“It’s pandemonium in there… don’t mean to be discouraging!”
“But we can take it with us, and, to save you worrying,”
I’ll put an ID badge on the walker-guide thing!”

He did Too! How kind was that! Great! Thanks, Mate!

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Arrival At The Queens Hospital

Paramedic chaps got me and the trolley to the A&E Emergency,
Waited in a corridor, on an uncomfortable wonky trolley,
I was pleased when the others moved swiftly…
But they slowed down somewhat, busy place, much activity…
All cubicles full got the first examination embarrassingly…
As they checked me for Covid, outside a lavatory!
Then they checked my rear end… deep in the cavity!
In the corridor, I exposed my protection pants and more…
Whatever they were using left me sore…
I’ve no idea what they were looking for!
My embarrassment, beyond repairability,
The depths of depravity!

© 09:30hrs: Moved Into Main Room – Then a bare Corridor

They had a queuing system that would baffle you at best…
Each time I was moved a few feet, it was never less…
The walker-guide, but, they were busy I guess,
I had to ask for the trolley each time; I think I was an optimist?
I reckon I wee them off; they did look pissed!
Then, out into a corridor again, all bare, not the prettiest!

Corridor Back Into the Main room

Aha, I nodded off; they woke me to give me attention. Over the next four hours, I had two ECGs, blood tests, Warfarin blood test, and Blood pressure was taken, and I fell asleep again. They woke me moving the hospital trolley again, and I turned to look for the walker-guide, and someone was rifling through it at the far end of the room, and it was a big, cram-packed with people, room! Other trolleys were moved, and I lost sight of my special trolley…

It took me over half an hour to find someone who would talk to me, but I found out she was coming to me anyway. She humphed, sneered, and went of to retrieve the Walker for me. She was back in a minute and crammed it betwixt my arm and the divider wall. She was not a happy gal at all!

To my amazement, she got out the ECG and BP stuff again?
I bravely asked her, “Are the other readings not right then?”
She calmly replied: “Nae, we lost them…”?
Adding, rather wittily, “Yer can’t expect fings to be Utopian!”
And she never spoke to me again!

The Noisy Moaning Git!

By now, ten hours or so, I’d been in here, innit?
But I was not feeling in the slightest antagonistic,
In the trolley in front, a chap getting verbally vitriolic…
His tackle on view, he was getting verbally athletic!

I could No Longer Stay Silent!

Mouthing it, scratching his balls, wearing no underwear!
“I’ve been here half an hour – nobody’s seen me, taint fair!
I said: “It’s a hospital, not the Mayfair”,
He swore back at me; I said in answer…
I’ve been here for ten hours clear…
So, give them a rest, or I’ll give you a vestibulocochlear!
Amazingly he quietened down, and folks gave a cheer!

That word stayed with me for some reason, not sure what it means. Something to do with Peripheral Neuropathy, I think. No one was more surprised than I was when he quietened down. I was expecting him to get up and attack me. Mind you, I was ready and prepared.

He made me so angry. Even two medical staff thanked me! Hahaha! I got a cup of tea and some biscuits.

Lady Doctor From Cardiac DVT Clinic Visited me!

Basically, she reported that the Warfarin INR level is satisfactory, and the mechanical aorta-valve is doing its job! I thanked her!

A nurse arrived to do yet another ECG & Blood Test

I dare not make any comments, although she was a lot friendlier with me this time?

My trolley was moved around for the next two hours

An A&E doctor came to me and said You’ll be allowed to go home shortly, and they have arranged a lift for me. Great!

Seven trolley-moves and an hour later…

A young lady came to collect me and the two trolleys in a white coat and took me into another department to await the lift being arranged for me. Given another cardboard cup of tea and more biscuits. At least now, being out of that haemorrhoid-testing big trolley and in a chair, I can drink and dunk with less hassle from Neuropathy Pete’s shakes.

As I fell in love again, I inquired of the white-coated buxom young lady; I have not been for a wee for 19 hours. Is there was a WC I can use, please. Only if you need a wee, no closets are available here, as you are not allowed back in the treatment room again. Oh? I confirmed that I only needed a pee, and she gave me a cardboard urine pot and told me where to go to use it. So, I did!

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Taxi Home

An old ambulance took me home, not a taxi,
A man and daughter team, jolly nice folkski,
We had a good natter en route, socially,
The chap came up to the flat with me…
Offered him a nimble or plonk, to thank him dearly,
Beer & Tequila, his choice, Cheers he said appreciatory,
Using the loo, he departed; I think his name was Hughie.

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I had to get the itching ECG pads off

Coor, that’s betterer!

Food, the next task!

Very Tasty! Baked bean and cheese pastie, a BBQ beef burger and a pot of lemon mousse with spray cream, lots of it! Gorgeous!

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Medicated A Few Areas

No more notes on the writing pad

I must have fallen asleep?

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Part of The Nottingham Lads True Tales of Woe In Rhyme

Evenin’ all! ♥

Ode: Inchcock’s First Dance Hall Visit

After trying out ballroom dancing at the Youth Social Centre and being told by one well built, highly desirable busty young lady: “Your dancing reminded me of a pregnant rhinoceros that, with three legs, suffered from an overindulgence of alcohol!” I stopped.

Then, off to the Youth Club, and tried my hand at Jiving. When! More my style, although I was a total failure and spent far too much time picking myself up from the floor and getting an elbow or fist in the face, I also had to give that up. After I was banned from the Youth Club for accidentally putting Sandra’s shoulder out.

Then, it arrived – The Twist!

The current girlfriend was not a fan of the twist at all. And became an un-girlfriend. Sob! But being a romantic, look-at-me-go type of young lad, I’d already had my eye on Margaret, a locally-bred gal, and love of the twist brought us together. She was a couple of years older than I, and the Locarno Dance Hall was the first to be holding a dedicated Twist only night. So we arranged to visit.

Expensive mind you; 2/6d (12½d) to get in. But, I was determined to show off my ‘Twisting skills’, So enthusiastically practised and honed, to what I thought was perfection, in my bedroom for many an hour into the night. This was my chance to impress!

Queuing Up To Get In

We whippersnappers queued early on in the night,
The mood was good; nobody wanted to fight,
No talking back then, of gigabyte, megabyte, or terabyte,
No mobile phones or headphones were in sight…
Time for the doors to be opened, I was uptight;
Margaret hadn’t turned up… still, my chance for the limelight?

Searching Out A Partner!

I got in, and was cool, as they played ‘Twist and Shout’,
Time to have a decker around and pick a girl out…
I found one; she was over six feet and rather stout…
But I went over to try my best lines out…
Her breath smelt of Vodka and brussels sprout,
But her bosom swelled as I got my wallet out…
We were soon on the dancefloor for a workout!

I was enjoying that…

The gal and I did jive, had a jolly good shakeout,
The bouncer came over, and said ‘It’s Twist night!’
I said, well, it doesn’t matter nowt!
He hit me and threw me out!

I was a bit disappointed…

I felt a proper fool; the gal stayed behind, sacre bleu!
I legged it home miserable and made a brew…
Had some leftover rabbit stew…
Two bottles of Guinness too…
Then I had to spew…
That was the end of Twisting debut…

Part of the Inchcock Memories in Ode Series

Do we, Don’t We Get a TV?

The Tale Of TV Debate!

Mother wanted a TV set, I wanted a TV set, but Dad was content with the radio

Dear Mother as a domineering, bullying and intimidating woman, who usually got her way, via, violence, superbly applied intimidation, and if all else failed, would turn on the waterworks. But on the issue of us buying a TV, and I believe it is the only time, Dad stood his ground, and refused to buy or rent one!

Dad was content with his ‘Archers’,  ‘Billy Cotton Band Show’, ‘Take it from here,’ ‘Many Bindings In The Marsh’ and the ‘Navy Lark’. I tried to listen to the ‘Journey Into Space’ serial whenever I could, which fascinated me. But Dad wasn’t having, ‘Such rubbish to listen to, a man in space, Humph!’ Of course, it was almost comical if you listen to it today. Good news, though, for anyone interested; Occasionally, Radio Four Extra broadcast some episodes! ♥

Cast for The World in Peril & Operation Luna episodes

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Days Of Debates (Fights)

After days of arguments, fights, bad language, threats and utter pandemonium, we were no nearer to convincing Dad. Mother, not a Royalist in any sense, even tried to tempt Dad by telling him the Coronation of Queen Elizabeth 11 was being shown in two days time… He did hesitate for a moment, and inquired as to how much a TV would cost to buy or rent? Mum got the local paper with the adverts on it: A Ferguson TV, she told Dad, would only cost us £39, Wigfall’s rental is 6/11d (35p) a week. Then we need a license, that’ll be £5… Dad was speechless, started gagging, and refused point-blank to us having a TV in the house! That was the end of that, for want of a better word, discussion!

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A Stroke Of Good Luck!

That day, we had new next-door neighbours arrive, the Hartleys. Mother (Name unknown), Father Leslie, and son Jack. I soon took to liking Jack, a little younger than I by a year or so. A tall lad, cheeky and cheerful most of the time, e had some great times as pair of vagabonds roaming the streets. Haha! They had just arrived from Kingston.

But, the highlight of the day was that they had to unload things and I gave them a hand, and I and spotted in the back of the van… A TV SET! And, Jack said it had both channels, BBC and ITV on it! Yes! By the time things were all in, I was given a condensed cream sandwich and mug of coffee for my helping. Then we watched some telly. The set was a combined one they had just bought last week, with a radio in it.

I thought, well this could be something to tell Dad about, then we might get a TV of our own… But when Leslie told me how much it cost them, I then realised there was not even a cat-in-hells chance of Dad spending £95 on a set! I was often invited by Jack, to go watch the TV when something was on that he thought I might enjoy. I vaguely recall seeing The Quatermass Experiment, which started my passion for the series. The daily screening time was very limited as I recall back then; 16:00 to 22:30hrs or thereabout. So little choice on the BBC.

One programme on the BBC Jack and I liked, was The Magic Circle. A magicians show, Magicians: George Grimmond, David Nixon and Col-Ling Soo on it as regulars. ITV on the other hand had a more varied choice by 1955. Including Lassie, Colonel March of Scotland Yard, and Hopalong Cassidy.

Not the actual Hartleys TV, but similar.

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As I mentioned earlier, the Quatermass series was the top for me on TV! Here are some photos found that stirred my memory box. So much so, that I’ve just sillily ordered some DVD’s from Amazon, three episodes of TV series and two films! Ah, well, hope I live long enough to view them! Hahaha!

The earlier versions of Quatermass film and TV series were not a disappointment, at all. They were very close to how I imagined it to be when I read the books!

Quatermass Photos, TV and Films DVD

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1953 Coronation On Someone’s TV

We moved from that unhappy home, after Mother had been on the run from the police for a couple of years, and after Brother Pete left to join the army, Dad & I moved to Sneinton Dale. Which turned out to be an even more horrendous place to live; Mother was caught and came home.

However, we did get a TV at last. Mother got it from Wigfalls,  they intention was that Wiggies call to empty the box, and anything over the 3/10p rental, is returned tohe client, in this case Mother! Whch meant a load of foreign coins and suitably-sized washers were in the box!

Anyway, she scarpered again, after another bout of conning people out of their cash, this time it was for three years before they got caught up with her, six months, into court. Ah well!

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That’s it folks!

More Later! Alligator.

Inchcocks Ode In Memory Of Grizelda ♥

Sunday 7th November 2021

My thought drifted to back, Grizelda, so jovial,
She was tall, hairy, and rampantly ever-sexual…
Her visit to England was most beneficial,
To me, although at times it was ethereal…
I even thought of things matrimonial,
Her sex appeal oozed from her, unanalysable,
She was forceful, but not unsurmountable,
Many would call Grizelda gladiatorial…
I’d call her, thank heavens, indefatigable!

Part Of The Nottingham Lads Make Them Laugh Ode Series

Inchcock’s Analysis of the Accifauxpas and Whoopsies 4th day on the trot!

In Regrettably Execrable, Atrocious Rhyme

Wednesday: Accifauxpas & Whoopsiedangleplopitis were with me again this morning, but I wasn’t surprised after three or four days of this.

But I had some natters, very pleased with this!

Even had some brighter periods; these were bliss!

AMAZON COCK-UPS

Well, no, they haven’t been delivered. Semi-panic!
Another Amazon cock-up, like the Titanic!
I rang Warden Julie, her reaction was fantastic,
She checked Winchester Court, not there,
Rang me back, how altruistic!

AMAZON ACCIFAUXPA TWO & THREE

Most confusing. Is this a trick?

AMAZON ACCIFAUXPA AGAIN

Ungle-Clomp: thought about it… thud!

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Peripheral Neuropathy Pete was calm with me, as I took this photo,
Came out good for me, I celebrated with a Lemoncello,
Seeing the result, I felt a bit less of a Bozzo,
I gave myself a virtual pat on the back… Bravo!

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Encouraged, I took the view of the end car park.

ACCIFAUXPAS!

Took the picture, closed the window, then things got blurrier…
I noticed two tellurians, fell backwards, Clunk! Landed with a whimper,
But no damage and I didn’t lose my temper…
Just the back pulled, so no need to get schmaltzier!
Managed to get back up on my own, now I felt smugger!
The victim being poor old Back-Pain-Brenda…
A Codeine 30g, a mug of tea, and I soon felt a little betterer!

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

WHOOPSIEDANGLEPLOP

The blood pressure was not good to be blunt,
But I was not overwrought,
Things would have been worserer…
If it had read nought! Hehe!

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

INSTANT FATIGUE!

With the recent days’ hassle and bother, it’s been a game,
Wearying, tiring, frustrating, but I do not raim,
But no more could be done, I’m at end of my candleflame,
Rest, peaceful sleep… yes, sleep, that’s now my aim!
I’ll have a nod for an hour or so, then energy I can reclaim…

WHOOPSIEDANGLEPLOP!

With the recent day’s hassle and bother, it’s been a game,
Wearying, tiring, frustrating, but I do not raim,
But no more could be done, I’m on the end of my candle flame,
Rest, peaceful sleep… yes, sleep, that’s now my aim!
I’ll have a nod for an hour or so, will my aim be lame?

Got some nosh made, and me oh my,
Gorgeous tasting it was too… now for some shuteye!

NO PROBLEM SLEEPING THIS TIME!
I whoofed it down like Bruno from Popeye!
Cleaned the plate with bread, wiped it dry!
Put the TV on, though now I wonder why,
Within minutes it was wakefulness, good-bye!.

4 HOURS LATER, A CONCERNED CARER WOKE ME UP

ACCIFAUXPAS!

I realised it must be the night when the gal gave the medication,
Warfarin included a night only application…
I felt a touch of creeping self-derision…
At the dementia-made confusion and elision,
The Thought Storm started; is reality really an illusion?
The gal gave me a little chinwag, that helped my self-derision,
Making the Thoughts Storms absquatulation.

She didn’t take the waste bags on her way out,
Not nowt to worry about…
Cause I gave the toe a stubbing, that did make me shout!
That, I could have done well without!

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

SURPRISE!

The Dettol arrived, that Amazon said I’d already had,
Which was something that didn’t make me sad,
What does, happened at Concentration camps & Stalingrad,
Many things make me mad, but they are too myriad!.

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

The photo that I took earlier,

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

WAS I RIGHT?

I made this graphic and posted it, before the Brexit Fiasco,
Before the masses voted for us to leave the Euro,
Sure enough, that’s just what we did, so long ago…
Some were full of joy, expecting things to improve, full of gusto,
Just look at us now, though…,

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

WHOOPSIEDANGLEPLOP

A belated Accifauxpa!

Well, more selection of Whoopsies really,

Milk from the fridge, I knocked over the banoffee,
It fell onto the floor and broke, after hitting my knee!
Got down to clean it up, could I get back up?
I’m used to this, and did it all unemotionally,
Well, apart from the usual trepidity…
Getting back on my feet was painful, a pity,
Cause I stubbed my toe as well, that was shitty!
Then dropped the bloody milk bottle, what a whoopsie!
Cleaned up the mess again, expecting a satanophany!
Instead, I banged my elbow on the drawer, and writ this ditty!

Inchies Frictional, Unfrivolved, Fricking Friday!

Things started pretty well for me, oh, yah!

I got the Halloween hand-outs on display…

For carers, nurses, come who may,

Anyone visiting me from today…

Then got the potatoes, boiled with balsamic vinegar,

And a spot of Worcester sauce, & a pinch of demerara sugar,

They’ll do for later if I remember the bugger,

With the chilli, and put on some more sauce, tartar?

Titivated the kitchenette, dropped a jam jar!

An excellent job that it wasn’t the caviar!

The jar didn’t break, and it missed my feet…

Things were going well, all seemed alreet,

Off to the computer with a mug of tea, took a seat,

I even nibbled some biscuits, wholewheat!

The landline rangeth, the Amazon man, a right pain!

T’was then that my good luck, nosedived again!

We couldn’t understand what each other said,

So I went down to meet and talk to him instead,

His English was better than my Afghanistani,

But he left me, in the lurch, there was no barny…

He abandoned the food with me in the lift foyer, the Git!

I had to get the parcels into the lift, and I wasn’t fit…

Back up to the 12th-floor, struggled to get the bags out,

Then had to get them into the lobby,

Then into the flats lobby,

Then into the flat,

Then the hallway…

Then the kitchen, my energy drained away!

Next, the swearing started, I have to say!

The Git had put bleach in, it leaked, had to throw my bananas away!

The baguette buggered, utter dismay!

Tomatoes crushed, and I was feeling bushed!

Honey yogourts pot fell apart; I was further crushed!

Got the salvaged food sorted,

I was pissed off; I felt like I’d been ambushed!

The cooked ham was crumbs and crushed!!!

I was feeling despondent, to say the least!

Can’t see myself enjoying tonight’s feast!

Got the fodder all sorted… What was eatable anyway!

I was determined to get the treats out today for those who have helped me out over the year. Jenny, Norah and Frank, and Obergruppenfürher Deana and Obersturmbannfuhreress Julie, the ILCs (Indeependent Living Coordinators) at the flats. I rang them both to tell them I’d be coming down later to see if it was alright, as they may have been busy. Recorded messages on both phones that told me they must be busy. So I’ll get the goodies sorted out and go to Jenny then to the office with them.

As I was going out of the door, struggling a little with the walker-trolley, the postman came into the foyer. Oh, dearie me! This sounds like it may be a con-job?

An official-looking brown envelope, a white one, and then he handed me an ‘insufficient postage bill for nearly £11 for something that has been sent to me?

He kindly offered to ask his boss if he could pay for it for me, get the ‘parcel’, and I can refund him, and he’ll bring it in the morning. I was dubious, as I don’t think ~I am expecting anything through the post? Anyway, I thanked him and took him up on his generous offer for me, with a certain feeling of doom.

The white envelope was from Meridian, three A4 pages, about my Christmas needs for carers, Logging-in, Shadowing & Spot Checks, McMillan Charity Ball, On Call Centre procedure, and a Service-User Forum Wednesday 8th December at Foxton Gardens.

I didn’t over concentrate on owt, but the dodgy sounding parcel postage cost thingy. Then thought I’d try ringing the Wardens again, let them know I was coming down to see them and ask if they could have a look at the Social Services letter for me.

Finally, I got back to the walker-trolley of goodies, of off down to Jenny’s. On the way down, I thought to myself… well, I felt sorry for myself, really. Everything suddenly going into panic mode; surely things must calm down now… Hahahahahaha! Crap!

I called at Jenny’s flat, rang the bell and knocked on the door, and returned to the lift.

Down and into the connecting corridor with Winwood Court.

Called at the Wardens Interrogation and Body Search Room and dropped off the nibbles. Dean checked the Attendance forms for me, and I signed them. At last, something was going right – Hey-Ho! Little did I know what Accifauxpas and Whoopsiedangleplops still awaited me yet!

Then realised I had not put the prescriptions list in the envelope.

Back up and down in the lift again, and down to Deana.

Gawd, it did! I thanked Deana and hobbled out of the Winwood Court foyer, the first time I’ve been in the fresh air for months now, I think… But it proved to be a hazard ridden journey to the post-box to mail the letter… Just when I stupidly thought things were getting better again…

Unbeknownst to me, the wind was howling out there, and it whipped the envelope and paperwork out of my hand, high up in the sky, swirling around and then seemed to turn back in my direction, falling down in the car park twixt the vehicles. So, if it had blown off again, I would not have seen it again… Semi-panic mode engaged. I pursued the envelope and had to search a bit to find it. Still, the relief when I saw it trapped in between the branches of a bush was welcomed, even more so when I managed to get at it in time before it flew off into the clouds again!

I limped hastily as I could to the mailbox, checked the envelope, and posted it; thank heavens for that. Although, my EQ told me it would not have mattered, because as the voice said: “You ain’t going to get no financial help, any and either way, cocker!” Which was a smidge disheartening, bearing in mind EQ has never been wrong with his forecasts… no, I tell a lie, sorry. He was once, just the one time.

I hobbled back inside and just had to tell Deana what had happened. At least she got to laugh out loud before going home for the weekend, bless her. Hehe!

I set off along the link corridor and got to the connecting door.

Boy, did I feel a fool!

I could feel the key fob in my jacket pocket, but could I find a way in to get it? No! I assumed it had gone through the lining of one of the pouches. Back through link passage and to Deana, thinking she may have some scissors for me to use, to cut through the pocket.

Within a few seconds of investigating the jacket pocket for me, Deana put on a broad grin – that I believe actually said, “What a pillock!” As she pointed out that the sleeveless coat had two pockets on either side, one behind the other!

I blushed, felt the pillock above, thanked her, and scurried away in embarrassment and fast as I could… back, yet again along the corridor.

The hobble back into Woodthorpe was masked by the deep and genuine worry about what the hell am I doing? Since retirement, nothing going right, or even things going wrong, has been a part of my life, but I am not coping so well with things nowadays.

The trip up in the lift left little recollections of anything. I should have guessed that Dizzy Dennis and Shaking-Shoulder-Shirley were about to erupt; the hassle for such a long time nearly always ends in a tumble or similar – this time was no different, I’m afraid; Well, it was actually.

The haze came over me as I began to push the trolley through to the lobby from the cage. I gave myself such a bash on the right shoulder; it knocked me sideways, I clouted my back on the other side of the lift, and I went down, almost in slow motion!

My Luck Changed!

I had no idea who it was, but a bloke came out of the end flats and got me up on my feet again. See, I am fortunate sometimes. I think he knew me cause he guided me back to the flat and helped get the trolley in for me. Not sure what we spoke about, but I think we did have a natter.

I made a brew of Glengettie Gold and sat down doing absolutely nothing, but fretting of course. Nodded off for ten minutes. Woke up in need of a wee-wee and felt so much better, then? Back-Pain-Brenda was the main pain-giver, but you can’t blame her after that little backwards tumble. Hahaha! I made another drink, and took a Cocodamal, then got on with updating this blog. I hadn’t really realised how late it was, although with all the palaver I should have expected it, the Evening Carer arrived.

It was Helen. After she’d done the medications, it was she who told me what a terrible day she’s been having. Bless her! When I related my day so far and showed Helen the photographs (I was still doing the blog updating when she arrived), She did laugh! Which was good cause it might have cheered her up a smidgeon, I hope.

I realised that I could not find the Warfarin card anywhere. Mmm? Mayhaps I dropped it when I collapsed on my rump? I went to check in the elevator cage. Nope!

Summat else to worry about now, Tsk! I got back in the front room and was going to do another search of the multi-pocketed jacket… when… I spotted it on the carpet underneath the computer cabinet.

I pressed on with this blog updating, and woe of woes, I got as far as I heard and realised it was almost midnight! I’d better get something to eat… ah, yes, the chilli and the crushed brochette, or whatever its name is, bread to me.

While doing the cooking, it was complicated for an old chap, like what I am. Some done in the crock-pot, chilli-con-carne on the saucepan on the hob, and wedges in the microwave, and as for all the cleaning up afterwards… Humph! Where was I?

Oh, yes, I took photographicalisations of the night sky.

Part Of The Nottingham Lads True Tales of Woes – With Odes Series.

Inchcocks Attempted Escape Ode – It failed, of course!

Inchies Attempted Escape Ode

It’s Not Easy, You Know!

Getting out, that’s something of a rarity!

The preparation for escape overall, schmeered,
Is something that is trepidatious and feared.
But have to be, they have to have persevered,
Painful, dangerous tasks have to be furthered,
Here’s s graphic of some jobs needing to be completed…,

This Mornings Palavas

A smidge high, the body temperature today,
Nowt to fret over, it’s often been this way,
The sphygmomanometer gave 168/71… Hey!
Pulse 97 – blimey! Hope they go down, I pray!

Mike Fries CEO Liberty-Global – Virgin Media

Got sorted out, and low and behold,
Onto the computer, and I’ve got all frampold…
Liberty-Global Virgin Internet – went down six-fold!
My view of this crap firm must remain untold!
Or I may pass my anger-management threshold!

So Much For Taking One Of These!

To the Porcelain Throne and on the seat…
Passing the evacuation was an uncomfortable feat!
The runny gooey mess was finally complete…
Had to clean everything; I hope there’s no repeat!

I took the above morning medications…
None of them caused me any addictions!
Stubbed my toe, causing many ululations,
Noticed on the legs, more even vesiculations,
Such is life, full of irritating tribulations!

The prescription toothpaste a bit sour?
Eight dropsies shaving, three in the shower,
New soap today, scented with elderflower?
Dropped the sponge, bent, hit my head, Wowser!
Against the wall box that giveth the power.
Didn’t half hurt; it made me swear and cower!
It was still hurting after over an hour!

Ah, blood runneth from my private region!
Yes, it was from Little Inchies fungal lesion,
I’d not caught or banged it – what’s the reason?
Ointmentating hurt had to have an intermission!
At least the boils on the bum are in remission!

Humph!

Now to apply the Germoloids ointment,
Harold’s Haemorrhoids, ah, now so evanescent,
And the escaping blasts of wind were now conticent,
Oh, that Germoloid, it really is heaven sent!.

Now to use the soothing, mild Germolene cream,
On the stomach folds, eases the itching like a dream,
Another cream, with results I hold in esteem.
Nowt in this product to make me scream…
Not like Dakacort, that gives me agony I can’t redeem!m,

Saccades eye drops; next, you know…
I miss target often; it runs down my nose…
Cheek, then though the moustache it goes,
Into my mouth, how it’s not poisoned me, I don’t know?

Ear drops, well, Olive Oil,
No, bother, sweat or toil,
Hello, I’ve just found another gum boil!
Just doing the ablutions nowadays is a droil!

Into the PP’s, and freshened and dressed,
Suddenly felt at my embarrassingly awfullest…
Took me so long to get ready again…
I’d missed the bus; it’s such a pain…
I’d lost my desire a zest…
The bus had gone, too late, what a bain!
I now accept it… I’m going insane!

Part of The Nottingham Lads True Tales of Woe In Rhyme

Moody Moon Machinationings

THOUGHT STORMS RAGE

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

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

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

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

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

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Part Of The Nottingham Lads True Tales of Woe In Rhyme