Due to Trotsky Terence causing me hassle and pain, The Porcelain Throne visits happened again & again… Dementia Doreen made my concentration transmundane, I couldn’t find the camera, my language became profane, After hours, the location was successfully ascertained…
Some form of hope, I started to regain…
However, they soon went on the wane…
The camera’s SD card had disappeared again!
I searched for hours… no hopes remain…
Doreen Dementia… a permanent bane!.
On and off for a day, I was frantically searching…
Up and down, my emotions ever lurching…
From never-mind to self-hating…
At times, mentally self-fustigating,
My psychological state… was beyond interpreting!
Leaving no stone unturned, I again started SD card seeking,
No luck, so I sorted out the laundry tub to do the washing…
Found the card in my pyjama top’s pocket; amazing!
So turned my attention to sorting the grazing…
I rather enjoyed this vegetarian noshing,
I found myself doing an awful lot of belching?
Fell asleep, to wake up and extrapolating,
Sorting the world out… hypothesising,
Starting with how to stop the MP’s hornswoggling,
But soon found this was too mind-boggling!
Checked on the plates and pins state…
They looked a lot better today, mate!
Nice, when I find summat to appreciate!
One day, I hope to see a little less weight…
A dream, more than a thing to anticipate!.
Better tend to my mornings ablutioning,
Cleaned the teeth, then on to shaving,
Had an excellent slow, steady session of showering,
Then on to the uncomfortable medicationalisationing…
I dried off, oiled and rinsed each earhole first,
Little Inchies fungal lesion done, with a blood-thirst,
Harold’s Haemorrhoids… painfully the worst!
Eye drops, mainly missing, Tsk! A curse!
Accifaupas dressing, an accidental photographing…
Dropped the camera, no damage, so not too vexing,
So, I took another of me posing…
This one came out to my liking,
Smug-Mode developing!
Found a shot of Ice-cream that’s Vegan…
I added some sprinkles, to it…
It gave the bad tooth some jip!
Amongst the contents are turnip?
I’m not bothered, I loved it!
The Blood pressure was well high… The Body temperature is nigh on perfect!
Morning Car Park Piccies!
This morning’s waking view,
The Porcelain Throne needed going to…
I hit my shoulder as I was going through…
On the doorframe, I think I said thank you,
To Shaking Shoulder Shirley, too!
The evening dawns, is that the right word?
Not that anyone will be bothered…,
Cause later on,
I took these that outshone…
Nicer coloured, better favoured! Then this beauty, later on
FOOD, GLORIOUS FOOD
And used it to make this super meal
The highlight was the vegan burgers, each eaten
twixt two slices of Milk Roll bread. The fresh
garden peas, tomatoes, and baby new
potatoes tasted excellent!
A pot of jelly & custard, and delightful
lemon mousse, to round it off! GORGEOUS! Flavour Rating: 8.5/10
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
My mentality is being steamrollered,
My aims and intentions are steered,
I lose control, it’s time that I surrendered,
Unless I can get help… my brain mended…
My dreams are black & white, yet multi-coloured.
Ideas, plans destroyed or embroidered…
At their conception, logic was avoided,
Minimal new memories are remembered
Dark thoughts are often harboured…
But shortly, into the ether, they are melted,
Intentions and aims cannot be deciphered…
And I made them, I’m just dumbfounded…
Over nothing, I can get easily flustered,
When aims and fears amass and get clustered…
Which reminds me, I must get some mustard!
Unwin must have been known for having a violent history…
For four officers to escort him, obviously the dullest,
To take off his handcuffs, knowing he’s the unfriendliest,
A decision that proved to be one of the iffiest,
Four officers were assaulted; was there an inquest?
In court, battered officers, the most ignoble,
Saw a sentence handed to Unwin, the patheticist…
15 months, suspended, no wonder he reoffended!
This sentence should go down in folklore,
Not one policeman beat up, but four!
Now he’s free to duff-up some more!
Why is there no complaining or furore…?
Namby-pamby sentencing gets more and more,
Violent police assaulters, by the score…
Laughing at judges even more…
Softness won’t work, like with Putin’s war!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Modern-day gangsters, barely out of their nappies. What chance for the future, with scum-ball bully boys so scared, they have to carry weapons and use them to intimidate others? There is no chance of any retribution worth talking of. I’m sure the threat of having to serve two-thirds of their sentence and the rest on a licence will send a shudder of fear through their vicious, antisocial, greedy, cowardly, cowardly, drug-crazed, chicken-hearted, self-centred minds.
What chance for the future, with scum-ball bully boys so scared, they must carry weapons and use them to intimidate others? Modern-day gangsters, barely out of their nappies. No chance of any retribution worth talking of; I’m sure the threat of having to serve two-thirds of their sentence and the rest on a licence will send a shudder of fear through their vicious, antisocial, greedy, cowardly minds. It’ll get them some more street-cred with the opposition drug gangs, which is more concerning to these lice than any prison sentence. OF course, they will be able to access drugs for personal use via manipulated family members and visitors. Not having to worry about getting medical attention, cooking, cleaning, council tax, the increase in the cost of living, having computer problems… Hang on that does sound a little tempting. I bet if I was incarcerated, I’d get both cataracts, saccades and glaucoma done quicker… Maybe, even get some help with Vascular Dementia, Doreen? Be able to actually see a real doctor! Not to fret over food price rises, rent, and carer cost increases… And stick two fingers up at my unsolvable computer problems; I can use the prison ones and get the internet for free!
Now that’s got me thinking. Who’s the idiot, these three stooges or me? Have I been missing out on things in life? Silly question that! Obviously, I have been missing out, or why would I end up where I am, after a slog of miserable, failed, error-filled life, stuck here surrounded by tellurians and so lonely?
Can one of these three good-looking drug-gang members might advise me on how and where to get a reliable handgun and ammunition?
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Surprised? I’m not. The end is nigh! The world is racing to it. Not much point in betting on which way the world and or humanity will self-destruct, but I’ve come up with some odds:
Richard goes the extra mile in looking after me, you see…
He’s called paramedics to the hospital he dispatched me.
Found me on the floor, lifted me up; and I’m heavy!
He’s reduced the effects of my Whoopsiedangleploppery!
After giving me my medications, if he’s the time, to which I agree…
We sometimes have a bit of mental verbal buffoonery,
Monday, checking the dates on medications, was he…
Richard saw on the stove my pan of Chilli,
He suggested a new way of cooking, which sounded good to me!
Told me with cheese on top, it would be very tasty,
So, I made some that way later and could not disagree,
It tasted better than a well-cooked sosatie.
Ate it, felt sated, down the chair – I’ve not got a settee…
But with my feet up, I settled to watch the footy on ITV…
Half-time, I went to make a brew of Glengettie tea…
Getting the cup and washing up the cutlery…
Oh, dear, the innards suddenly rumbled – but only weakly…
The rear end just started to emit things terribly…
I rushed to the Porcelain Throne in a hurry… but I was too late!
Banged my shoulder on the door frame going in, mate!
What a mess; I was in a right mucky state…
Cleaned things and me up, new aerated PP’s on, to alleviate…
Sad when one has an uncontrollable trip to defecate…
At least the shoulder I didn’t dislocate!
Out and back to the kitchenette for the brew,
And immediately another churning, another release was due!
Back to the Porcelain Throne, I almost flew!
A bigger mess this time, sticky goo!
Good job, I made it in time, I can tell you!
Cleaned and washed, and back on the flaming loo!
After five more Throne visits, each one causing ballyhoo…
Things settled at last; in future, Chilli, I’ll have to eschew!
I’ll have some home-made beef stew,
Oh, no beef, summat else will do…
Ah, the Vegan beefburger tonight; the risks should be few
Hoping there’ll be no trouble with the residue!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
All fine that night, I woke up feeling refreshed and pert,
This morning as I stood up, the Haemorrhoids hurt,
The borborygmus rumbled, and to the Porcelain Throne I stumbled,
An hour later, I’d passed at least six times… my spirits crumbled…
Each evacuation was a close call, as I rushed and fumbled…
My poor piles were stinging and battered; they itched!
Uh-oh! The last one sneaked out early; I had to ventilate…
It seemed the pong was worse by a hundredfold,
Finally, I got the escapees under control…
That leaves Carer Richard this morning, who needs to be told…
A warning of his recipe given, especially to the thick & old…
That eating it, diarrhorea would be empowered!
Richard arrived, I told him of my Chilli agony, and he was unflustered!
Laughter flowed from the lad, totally unhindered…
No guilt, no shame… Never seen the lad so cheery…
He suggested I get a new nappy!
Hahaha!
Inchcock’s Make ‘Em Laugh Series
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I’ve never ever seen Richard laugh out loud and so hard! I think his mood was as near to schadenfreude as one can get. Even amid my agonies and Trotsky Terence’s having a hay-day with my innards and the Protection Pant stocks running desperately low…, it cheered me up to have made him so happy and contented. It did as much good as any medications.
With a possible hint of epicaricacy creeping in there… Hahaha!
Last evening’s photographicalisations were, to me, some of the best I’ve managed to take. How the shaking and shuddering (apart from the right shoulder Shuddering Shoulder Shirley) had suddenly dried up was something of a minor miracle? However, as I was closing the windows after taking the pictures, they kicked off again, off course. But a nice two first-time shots? Ah, the rumbling innards have started off again, out of the blue. I made a speedy as I could lunge for the wet room, wary of Trotsky Terence’s grip on the innards. The evacuation was the smallest in days and more than capable of controlling. I remained sat where I was on the Throne and got the crossword book out. I was not going to get caught out like I have been so many times recently by needing another release minutes later. About five minutes later, the second lot came.
I had a shave and shower, and the ankle ulcer in this photo looked like a luminescent inner core? At least it did to my cataracted eyes. But it looked to the eyes as usual? If I remember, I’ll ask the evening carer to have a look. (I forgot to, Tsk!) . The body temperature was acceptable again. That’s several days on the trot, so things look good there. Shaking Shaun caused me to drop the thermometer, but it still works; phew! The Sys was still highish, the DIA lowish, and the Pulse was AOK! Overall, I was tempted to go into Smug-Mode, but I remembered last week… I declined! That was when the SYS went up to 174 for one day, then down to 123?
I had a look at the food situation in the fridge. There seemed plenty to do me over the weekend, and the freezer was pretty full, so I decided no food order was needed until next week! Yes! I made a decision…me! I made one in 1968 as well, you know. Then made another one! I had a long chinwag with the family. Gave each one a mini cuddle and had a few words with each of them. ♥ All donated by e-friends, Lisa, Pattie and Marie; thank and bless them!
I had a walk down to the ground floor, using the lift, of course. And started to have a hobble the length of the three blocks of flats, to come out from Winchester Court and hobble along Chestnut Way back to my beloved Woodthorpe Court… but… An urgent need suddenly needed! So I doubled back and got to the Throne in time to avoid any Accifauxpas or Whoopsiedangleploppery! Which was good!
Washed and got a snap of the end car park taken from the balcony. What happened with this terrible photo? I took it without thinking through the glass; I didn’t open the window. Wot a pillock! So I did a better shot from the other end of the balcony, of the view towards Nottingham City Centre, two miles away. Then got a late nosh sorted out. Veg & pickle balls, with added caramelised onion chutney, tomatoes, chips and my beloved raw, fresh pod peas. I had three little marshmallows for my make-do dessert. I would have had some yoghourt or lemon mousse, but Iceland and Sainsbury’s didn’t have any in stock – Grumph!
So, there it is! A day of misery, defeatism, joy, laughter and utter confusion- just a typical day for Inchcock! Cheers!
Upon reading this crap, I felt a little hypnagogia,
I felt dizzy; mayhap it’s habromania?
Or even worse, a mental cacodemonomania…
You can work this out between yers…
Cause sure as hell, this ode will bring you longueur!
Things are so bad, I’ve got apeirophobia…
I’ve just had a bout of acrophobia!
I’m growing ever tubbier and heavier…
As I age, my ailments get nastier, uglier,
I’m losing my grip; it’s not just a rumour!
With such limited brain power…
The thought of teaching did hover…
I couldn’t get my head around wind power.
I was going to apply for the job of executioner…
It involved a lot of hanging around, so I didn’t bother.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I wondered, will Putin’s war remain non-nuclear?
We’re running out of space for more folks coming here…
But victims should be welcomed, it’s clear…
The world is different to yesteryear…
Putin’s warring is not over yet, I fear!
The cost of living is rising, and life is becoming austere!
There’s hope, says Boris, but from where?
The Tory Council, guilty of Grenfell, did I hear…
were at Boris’s party, no masks, but whisky and beer?
Oh, to meet the Kensington & Chelsea London Borough Council leader at the time. The murdering scum, who got off scot-free, the lucky Bleeder!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
The chief executive of Kensington and Chelsea council has resigned amid criticism over the borough’s response to the Grenfell Tower fire.
Nicholas Holgate said Local Government Secretary Sajid Javid asked for him to go – the government denied this. Mr Holgate said the fire in North Kensington, where at least 79 people died, was “heart-breaking”, but his presence would be a “distraction”.
Perhaps if his Council had not ignored the Tenants Association Meetings warnings that were recorded; Telling them that a disastrous fire: The chief executive of Grenfell Tower’s landlord body told colleagues to ignore a resident who warned eight months before the fire that:
“Only a catastrophic event will expose the ineptitude and incompetence of our landlord!”
He might not have had to resign?
Why has the legal system not used these in a prosecution?
Tomorrow, Thursday, May 5, might be Election Day, but for some also thinking about RBKC, it will also be when Nicholas “Naughty Nick” Holgate appears at the Grenfell Inquiry: People in and around the Grenfell community might remember Nicholas Holgate. He was the Town Clerk of RBKC (Barry Quirk’s predecessor) until shortly after the Grenfell Tower fire when 72 innocent members of our community lost their lives. He resigned from the Council around a week after the disaster, saying he would be a “distraction” But when asked by journalists if the then Secretary of State for Housing, Communities and Local Government, Sajid Javid, authorised this. MHCLG did not deny this and just issued a statement saying, “The appointment of chief executives is entirely the responsibility of the local authority,” some time afterwards. For anyone who happens to think Holgate was just some innocent “fall guy” director simply doing his job and simply just took the rap from the decisions of Nick Paget-Brown, “Jailhouse”, Rock Feilding-Mellen and co, we’ll just post a link to his statements and evidence so far”:
Holgate might be highly intelligent and like to think he can cover his terms with official speak and an air of detachment, but reading what he says and contrasting that with the goings-on at the time tells quite another story – and that story is that he was a collaborator. We recommend interested readers have a look through the Grenfell Action Group archive to decide for themselves:
Holgate is back in teaching! Not so long ago, friends of a Grenfell survivor were horrified to find out that their daughter’s maths teacher at Godolphin and Latymer School was Holgate. This school is also reasonably nearby and is only 2 miles from Grenfell.
We’ll remind Holgate that 18 of the victims of the Grenfell Tower fire were children, who he now has power over again!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
INCHIES ODE TO POLITICIANS
It’s fear of those in charge that gets to me…
They claim to rule pretty academically,
But do so with idiosyncrasy and alcoholically,
Like PMs of old, they are full of Godwottery…
They should retire and take up making pottery…
Their expense-fiddles covered… need not the salary,
INCHY: Ayup, your back again then, Alto? Not seen you for ages.
ALTO: How did you know I was here; I was in clandestine mode?
INCHY: I reckon that Doreen Dementia can detect yer; I certainly knew you were creeping about in my head…
ALTO: Rowlocks!I reckon it’s another Alto trying to sneak in…
INCHY: Whatever makes yer think that then?
ALTO: Well, I’ve been having troubles with Alto Control Room Monitoring Section, mate...
INCHY: Mate? Calling me yer mate? Summat serious, then I take it.
ALTO: Of yes, not-half Inchy. I slipped up a bit with not picking up on yer suicidal tendencies, and the ACRMS found out… some sneaking Alto had snitched on me…
INCHY: That’s not right… some foreign Alto snitching on my Alto! Can I complain about this?
ALTO: Why?
INCHY: Well, after three-score and ten and a bit of having you pestering and trying to make me miserable, these past few weeks, I’ve sort of missed you, and you are mine?
ALTO: That would have brought tears to my eyes if I’d got any!
INCHY: Don’t be sloppy; it doesn’t become you; where’s your sarcasm, nit-picking, foul language, insinuations, and determination to destroy any contentment I have gone?
ALTO: It’s a sad tale, my friend…
INCHY: Hang on then, I’ll make a brew of Thompsons Punjana tea and get back to yer… owd yer horses… I’ll be back…
ALTO: Thanks, Inchy… I appreciate that…
At this, Inchy hobbled off to his kitchen and made the brew described above, totally confused. Alto, thanking him, calling him a friend and mate? Not a single insult or put down uttered? This could be serious. What if the new Alto takes over? He could well be worse than Alto Inchie?
INCHY: I’m back, Alto-Inchie. Fair enough, we’ve had some set-to’s, barneys and verbal battles… Who is this invading Alto anyway, and why does he want to take over control of me?
ALTO: I’ll explain, mucker! This Senior level Alto failed in his mission on his last assignment, got the sack, and has gone rogue on the ACRMS. Being such an experienced Alto, they cannot reel him back into the fold, and for some reason, he’s chosen you as his next target?
INCHY: Who did he fail with?
ALTO: Ah, well, he was Alto-Putin…
INCHY: Putin! The Russian one?
ALTO: Yes, I’m afraid so!
INCHY: How did he fail with Putin? Good Gawd, he’s launched the attack on poor Ukraine, and…
ALTO: Yes, yes, but it’s been 133 days now, and he still hasn’t won the war, has he?
INCHY: So?
ALTO: You should read up on the ACRMS rules; I’ve sent them all to your brain to study! Rule 9920043847076/Putin/WorldWar-93939g954h, Failure to achieve the prime target within 130 earth days of the formulation; will result in the said Alto (Alto-Putin in this case) being relocated to a proletariat target.
INCHY: Oh…
ALTO: Anyway, I’ve got a hell of a fight on my hands with this Alto-Putin; he’s good; too good for me...
INCHY: Well?
ALTO: Only you can help me, my old pal?
INCHY: How?
ALTO: Simple, if you commit suicide from depression, which is my prime aim, we can beat Putin-Alto, and save the world; you’ll be dead but famous!
INCHY: Ah, so if I top myself…
ALTO: Yes… but it’s got to be through depression at all costs. Otherwise, I fail in my Prime-Mission, do you see? Then I will get extra powers in payment from the ACRMS, and I can use them to defeat Putin-Alto! Hari-Kari, whatever you want to call it, through chance-medley and/or depression is a must way to go, Inchy. The ACRMS will not accept death through execution, accident, euthanasia, or mercy killing!
INCHY: How are they going to know?
ALTO: I’ll know, but the proof will be needed. I’ve thought about this, and a suicide note should do the trick, my old chum, something along the lines of: “I can no longer cope with the confusions of Doreen Dementia, Peripheral Neuropathy Pete, Nigel’s Neurotransmitters Failing, Cataract Cathleen, Deaf Dominic and the hellish bad luck and problems are all beyond my capacity to understand, alleviate or solve. Anything of any value I leave behind is to be shared between all my relatives and friends. I leave contact numbers for all three, in the first-aid box, in the ambulatory oxygen tank racking.”
INCHY: Alto, do I detect a little sarcasm creeping into the conversation here?
ALTO: Hang on, I’m getting a message coming in from Alto-Putin...
INCHY: Alto-Putin?
ALTO: Yea… hang on… I’ll be back…
Inchy started to fret a bit while he waited… A sense of his being conned again was growing… rightly so!
ALTO: Hello?
INCHY: Well, what was that about, Alto?
ALTO: He just sent one question for me… You pathetic dummy!
INCHY: Eh? What?
ALTO: Alto-Putin said: “Did Inchy fall for it?” Hahaha!
Here are some terrible crimes being committed, That will never be lessened or ameliorated, While issuing laughable, pathetic sentences… And obviously guilty scum, even get acquitted! Judges and Parole officers aren’t assassinated.
Prisons are losing many an inmate… Out on the run, not waiting for their release date… They’d be freed by the Parolees and only had to wait… Judges give them ten years… you’ll have to do two, mate… A policy of being kind, as they kill… I can’t explicate!
Part Two of Nottingham’s Animalistic Crime Snippets Plus, a rare bit of good news – I hope
I nearly got caught by these scamming swine!
At 03:40hrs the other morning, I was drinking wine…
The mobile phone tune flashed, did opine,
A text message tune. Had someone forgotten the timeline?
To me, this looked all genuine and fine,
With the NHS website on a lower line…
I got back to my alcohol-free wine,
No need to take any ranitidine!
But I fretted over it, oh, this worrying of mine… Dithering, vacillation and my mental decline… Carer Richard, fast becoming a mate of mine, Investigated, found the telephone number online, Do not use it! It was a Scammers mobile line! Richard’d saved me from another dwine!
Whoever took this photo is a braver person than me, Eight men fighting in front of your home are, ayee! I’d hide behind the curtain, likely needing a wee-wee, Full marks to the photographer, heroic of thee…
What going on with violence in this country?
I suppose it’s similar in Liverpool and Coventry?
Italy, France, Ireland, America or Germany?
Gangs, some worse than were the Mafia family!.
No peace for the lad’s family. Indeed, there will be no justice in the sentencing if they are found guilty.
Oh, the poor unfortunate little chickadee,
Sentenced to six years in prison… he’ll soon be free…
The Parole Board won’t let him serve more than three,
These overpaid do-gooders really wrangle me!
So are so many paedophiles walking free,
But we can’t cure them, you see?
Why are they let off so easily?
Bent judges? Or full of sympathy?
Do judges and parollers suffer from epicaricacy?
Don’t approach him; he’s dangerous?
Life imprisonment; in an open jail, Jesus!
Why, with such dangerous scum, be generous?
With his record, he’s not likely to be abstemious!
He wants, he takes, violently, certainly not adiaphorous!
He’s cleverer than they thought and stays anonymous…
Till he went on telly, sticking his finger up at us
A letter just arrived from the Doctor,
I know, it was a bit of a shocker…
I thought she’d died; bless her,
It’s been so long since I saw her… November?
I hope she’s not got any sneerier…
I’ve got to make an appointment without failure…
For a Severe Frailty Revue… what can I do?
Cataract ops that’ll make me blind are due?
One on the 15th, then the 18th, not one, but two,
Then the dentists are due around then too…
Dementia Doreen keeps putting me in a screw…
Neuropathy Pete, sending me in a mental stew,
Plans, thoughts, ideas, and intentions are all askew,
Ask for help, they tell me, and that I’d do…
Sounds logical, but to where and who?
——————————————–
Drunken rages; the man needs help, assistance… but he’s, had support before, but he gets more violent, his partner is in desperate need of help, but shows impressive residence and loyalty… why? I don’t know. Likely because she is so scared of the slob? So it’s heartwarming seeing the caring about the victim judge telling him, after issuing the pathetic sentencing, that he will only serve half of the prison term before being released?
Justice is all we want to see?
Something to make the victim worry-free!
I agree that there is no guarantee…
But slaps on the wrist are fiddle de dee…
The justice system has gone all namby-pamby!
——————————————–
The Sun Glasses arrived through the door,
Squashed through the letterbox, Cor!
But unbroken, what is more,
The price tag on them read £15.54!
But I paid £4.94, a bargain for sure…
Plastic tag keeping them closed, or…
I’d try them on, but I can’t open them anymore…
Kathleen’s Cataracts, eyesight so poor,
Now, even so cheap, they’ve lost their allure!
——————————————–
Sad as they come…
——————————————–
Ha, Ha, Ha!
I’m confused?
Well, that’s no surprise!
I’m not saying I was not a bit of a tearaway, But, I see more crumbling of morals day by day, Manners, politeness, honesty… all in decay… Empathy, caring, and understanding float away…
Uneducated, unemployable youths today… Join gangs for self-protection, they say? Can’t get a job, to violence they stray… Yet they’re experts on scamming and eBay?
To a degree, it was the same back in my day? But we knew when to give way, not like today… Instead of a one-on-one fistfight, now it’s a machete… Gun, knife, anything to harm and kill nowadays!
If I asked to tell them to be kinder and pray… Then I would end up as one of their prey! They rely on drugs and their illegal distillery, As they age, those not yet killed move on to spivvery, Get too old for burglary and robbery… To become au faux with blackmail and bribery… Some will start wearing ladies’ hosiery… And, if there’s any justice, catch leprosy!
Apparently, he also had charges pending for arson,
Drug supplying, TWOC and mugging with aggression,
He resisted arrest in June, giving a PC an abrasion…
Which bled, and the PC needed a blood transfusion,
Some good news, although he was bitten by a police Alsatian!
Luke Riley was jailed for 18 years; what are the chances?
Guilty of 11 child sex offences… it brings hatred & tears!
Including two counts of rape of a child under 13 years!
The Parole board’ll free the swine after 10, sad dears,
To enable him to rape again, of course…
They’re as guilty as he is, but what is worse…
For another child, it’ll prove disastrous…
Parole namby-pambies deserve some adverse…
Black Magic, hexing, a witches curse,
Locking up, hanging, at least something mortiferous!
No mention of Brayan’s admission of getting 139 illegals into Nottingham last year. No doubt he runs ten properties in the Nott’m area, which is all owned on paper by his Sister back in the city of Kirkuk in south Kurdistanin, and them being room rented out… Ah, Gorrit! Bet he’s shopped on the bosses of the slave trade? That’ll be why they have been treated so lightly for the despicable crimes they have committed? Profiteering by getting the poor lost souls into the country hidden in vans, and making them pay through the nose for years! Gits!
His defence? Almighty God wanted me there! I wouldn’t have thought that Putin would be too bothered?
I bravely hung out of the window this morning…
To take this photo, it was cold, I was shaking…
I hurried it, all done in a twinkling,
But, getting back in, Glaucoma Gladys was itching…
The hospital told me there’s to be no scratching!
The Cataract left eye, not even any touching…
So, I stubbed my toe instead… Hello, the mobile’s ringing?
Who can this be a three o’clock in the morning?
The message above, you see, was somewhat confusing…
I thought the tune was a telephone ring…
But no, definitely someone was texting.
Was this genuine, or was someone hacking?
Mayhaps a cold-caller pestering?
A con-job, this’ll need careful handling?
Carer Richard’s due in two hours; I’m praying…
He’s the lad to help, no quibbling!
It was getting lighter later but not much brighter,
Shut the window, trapped finger… blood blister!
Dropped the ointment and trod on it in a fluster,
But my bravery, I did muster…
Proud, I felt like a boshter!
Three visits, over £2,500 worth of stock filtered…
Had they not caught him, he’d have made a fortune!
Luckily they got him as he faltered…
He’ll be out on parole by the end of June…
To carry on, and Wilko will be pilfered!…
He punctures a stranger’s lungs, fractured his sternum, stabbed him in his chest, he’s on drugs of course – and what do the good old protect the public Crown Court turnips give him for this unprovoked attack? 10 months in Young Offenders holiday camp!!! Then tell him he’ll only serve half of the sentence and be released on licence… I can help but remember the 30 murderers who were released early and all killed again! The 44 early release prisoners who raped again! The 9 who stabbed again… the 11 who raped again… And my biggest hatred, the overpaid yet inept Parole Board scumbags who allowed these to happen – they should be found guilty of the offences of their freed early prisoners!
Just thought I’d mention it.
COVID
FIGURE UP?
Inchcock Meal Snippet News
Chips: passable
Turnips: Undercooked
Mushrooms: Nicely seasoned for once
Tomatoes: Okay
Gherkins: Good
Pickle Balls: Enjoyed them
Apple: Too hard for the teeth to cope
Strawberry dessert: Too sweet
Veggie Hot Dogs: Terrible binned them
SAD LATE NEWS
e-scooters: Eleven deaths and over 1000 injuries were reported across England, Scotland and Wales last year. The use of privately-owned e-scooters on public roads is illegal. The figures alone should be enough for the Government (sic) to act on this.
The poor woman’s family do not want any bother or attention, and they have asked to be left alone, to mourn.
What with these e-scooter killings and injuries, the repeated releasing of killers & rapists early by the Parole Board, who murder and rape again… It baffles me.
I believe I mentioned last week that the End was Nigh?
Putin’s not bothered about the world but keeps his eye…
On the Chinese, Americans and the FBI…
It is saveable? If so, how, when, by whom, and why?
If it is rescued, and I’m alive, I’ll slap my thigh…
But my hopes are not too high!
What are nations doing about Putin, the Cow?
Britain protested to the UN with a catty meow…
President Biden very nearly raised his left eyebrow…
Xi Jinping thinks the Ukraine war’s just a sideshow?
France stopped Russian imports, pickles and marrow!
Sweden is worried about dwindling numbers of sparrows…
No comment from rain-starved New Mexico…
Germanys Steinmeie, has gone off a furlough?
Inchie on the Porcelain Throne… had a follow-through!.
Odes that matter are not easy to write – So I wrote this one!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
WEDNESDAY
0045hrs: I don’t know how I did it, but I’d worked through the night on blogging. It is now 04:00hrs, and I will try to get some sleep. The carer can wake me when they arrive. As soon as they are gone, I must get the ablutions done. Too early now cause of making a noise with the shower. Then get some sleep!
That didn’t last long! I’ve now been up for 22hours. For nearly an hour! Humph! Will I ever get some sleep! I got down in the recliner and drifted to sleep without any bother…
♫ Oh, Susana ♫ rang out! Carer Richard arrived, a little concerned, when he looked at me. Apparently, I was pasty-looking and shaking. I told him I was just tired and why. Inquired about how his Diabetes course went. Alright, the lad said, which told me it wasn’t at all. Again he couldn’t stay too long; he had more calls to do. Gave I’m some treats, and he was off like an arrow from Robin Hood’s bow. Haha! I’d not yet got the computer going and thought it best if I got myself a good shower and shave first. A freshening up should sort me out. Then I can get some sleep… surely?
I made a right and proper mess of shaving duties today. The neck (3), earhole (1) and chin (2) all had a pretty cut or two by the time I’d finished. The Peripheral Pete’s shakes were very minor but still cut me. Showered without any nasty or painful injuries worth mentioning.
Although the regulation toe-stubbing took place as I started to do the next job. Midway through the rear-end Germoloiding, the landline burst forth…
I snapped the end car parkers as I checked the windows. Then gathered the blood pressure equipment needed for the readings to be discovered. This was when I realised I was still in the nude!!! Argh!.
Well, very nearly, that’ll do for me, I fank you! The results for the SYS 142. DIA 67 and the Pulse at 77 bpm were all in range.
My Chinese (Hong Kong) is made by Shenzhen Relee Electronic & Technology Co. Ltd™, contactless thermometer, was playing up a little, not wanting to work? Still, I got it on the third try.
I got the clothes nearby for after the ablutioning, stripped, shuddered at my reflection n the shiny kettle, and went into the wet room… ♫ Oh, Susana ♫ rang out again! It was Warden Deana to do a wrist alarm battery check. I hope I’d put on some clothing before answering the door! But Dementia Doreen forbade me from recollecting when writing this bit of the blog many hours later.
Back to the wet room and got on with tasks of scrubbing up, teggies, shaving and a good shower. The ankles were not too good; they have been worse.
A struggle to get there before they rang off. I hoped it might be QMC hospital’s EENT about an appointment to get the cataract done… but no! It was a cold-caller whom I could not understand what she was saying. I rang-off.
I really must try to get some sleep again. But no! Esther rang and came in; I just got the pants on in time! It’s nearly noon, and I’ve seemed to have been getting delayed, sidetracked and discovered a plot to stop me from sleeping. Hehehe! And I have not even started on the blog yet!
Esther kindly brought some cord and rethreaded the jammie bottoms that had lost their own string. Bless her. She still talks to me from the other room. Har-Har!
I made a start on the Odeing for this blog. I’m so far behind again and getting self-irked about it! Another long day then; Gawd knows when I’ll get the job done. Interruptions all the time, or ailments delaying me – SLEEP – PLEASE!
I’ve got to get some kip so I can recharge to get this blog done… Around in circles, that’s me! Still, I foolishly thought, at least I’ve made a start on the Ode… Humph!
♫ Oh, Susana ♫ chimed out yet again! It was Esther coming back. She’d been to do it for a new client, and their vacuum had broken down, and she asked me if she could use mine. I realised the Hoover was already at the front door, so yes, no problem.
Surely now, I can get the Ode at least done? I checked on what I could have for my nosh, which looked like being eaten again in the early morning hours. With all the faffing about that’s going on. I made a brew of Thompson’s Signature tea and took a small cake from the fridge.
Back to the Ode writing, and… ♫ Oh, Susana ♫ chimed out yet again! It was the postman. One of them was kind enough to press the buzzer when he delivered; it helped. The letter was from Nottingham City Homes, Asset Management Team, and Emma Brown. Telling us about an upgrade to the electrical fuse-boards. There will be interruptions to TV signals and laundry rooms. So, that told me two things. One; reason that the workers did not answer my cheery good morning the other day – Because it is an independent company (ECS) doing the work. And number two, now I know why I lost the TV signal thrice last week. Finally, I was making progress with the Odeing. Mind you, it was 16:00hrs by then. Keeping my concentration pretty well…
Esther returned again. To bring the vacuum back and thanked me for loaning it to her. No, bother, Esther, I said. Each week when she arrives, she takes out the plug on a towel airer to use it to recharge her mobile phone. And never puts the power back on… just a thought, like.
Carer Valerie arrived to sort the medications. Took the waste bag out with her. Boy, is it getting late now! Gragnangles! Definitely going to be another 24hr day.
Absolutely gorgeous clouds this evening. pareidoliaised, at my leisure, finding three figures in these beautiful clouds. An animal’s mouth and jaw, a tongue sticking out of a mouth and what looks like an iceberg to me. When I returned, not exactly full of fervour, to carry on with the blog, a weird happening happened to happen. Happenstance, one might say?
I saw dozens of seagulls flying left the right at about the same level, four or five times, through the balcony windows!
I hastened to get the Canon in hopes of getting photographs of the birds; they sometimes came close to the windows.
I sat in the recliner to have a drink of spring water, a nibble of some potato sticks, and, most importantly, to relax for a few minutes. But, No! As I got the camera turned on, the flock broke up and was long gone! Tsk! Then, something caught my eye that I’d not noticed before…
On the wall, where the electricians left a pretend made patching up job of the power-point they had knocked off of the wall, the uneven imitation plastering was showing me an ambiguous visual pattern. Hewn in the lumpy rough plastering.
I shan’t say what I can perceive in it, but I would love to know if you can visualise anything in it? Or is it just me and what?
Got ready to try and get some blogging done. And once more, the ♫ Oh Susana ♫ tone rang out from the door chime.
It was the pens being delivered. I tried them straight away. It said in the advert that they both had darker black inks and smoother, softer writing nibs. Brilliant! Best Biro’s I’ve ever used, and I can see the writing better now too.
I titivated the Tuesday Diary, and I got that sent off. I know you are thinking, why has the dumbo not done this yet? Am I write? Erm… Right? Ask Doreen about Dementia? Hehe! I’d got myself into a pickle again mentally.
I made up some spring water bottles, added a drop of orange or lime cordial to each one, and put them on the ottoman’s tray. Also, fill a pot with some potato chip nibbles for later.
I took these close-up too the kitchenette window shots of pattering down rain. That came on quickly; the sunshine was blasting through the curtains a few seconds ago. (They are a bit thin!)
Carer Valerie arrived and got the medications sorted out. We even managed a little chinwagging tonight!
I got the nosh sorted out. I’m afraid it was not one of the more successful or tasty meals I’ve ever made or eaten. Not by a long chalk! The Morrison’s potatoes letters made sure of that. They were abysmally tasteless! The cheese & onions pasties were not too bad. The peas and mushrooms left over from yesterday were passable. The pot of strawberry cheesecake was nice. Overall, a dismal 5.5/10 Flavour rating!
Well, that was better. Almost solid this time. But I’ll not get too excited.
Into the kitchen to get some of the marvellous tasting No-Moo brand ice cream to nibble.
The view from the window was most impressive. Although it was not bright or vivid, the hues and shades were, to me, anyway, reminiscent of oil paintings. Which started me off thinking about how amazing Mother Nature can be… and I forgot to get the ice cream from the fridge for my evening snack. Grobbleturds!
Washed the pots, had a rare wee-wee, not that much sprinkled painfully out. Then I got down in the £300 second-hand, c1968, charity shop-bought, eyesorely-horrendously grungy coloured, haemorrhoid-testing, uncomfy, easily-falloutable, unfit-for-use, not working recliner.
And to my satisfaction and pleasure, I fell asleep within seconds!
Only to shoot awake with a jump a couple of minutes later! Grumblecronknackers! Graptitties! Schluberdubers! Globblegripes! and Grangleboggleisations! Naturally, the sudden awakenings continued for hours! Varying twixt after two minutes and ten!
Not All Sleep Is Restorative By Raj Dasgupta, MD
Experts continue to study the sleep process, but they’ve found evidence to suggest your body & brain perform a lot during sleep, including muscle repair, protein synthesis, & tissue growth.
07:30hrs: Woke wanting a wee-wee. I thought it would never come; it must have been 15hrs without one. It was hardly worth it, a painful sprinkle or two. At least the bladder is working again, so fingers crossed!
I set, too, giving myself a medical MOT. And taking ‘As needed’ non-prescription medications. There is no need for ointmentating this morning, No Little Inchies fungal lesion or Harold’s Haemorrhoids bleeding whatsoever! Excellent results on the blood pressure machine, best for ages!
The only thing not so good was the body temperature. That was way down low again. Been under the NHS’s recommended 35°c for a few days now. I don’t feel poorly; I am a lot chirpier in myself this morning. Although I felt so cold when it obviously isn’t?
I took some under-tongue CBS oil. And a Hemp capsule too.
Got the ears well saturated with the Olive oil. Let it sink in, and then I filled up the canals with more. This never seems to help, but I’ve got into the habit of doing it each morning now.
Then took a Dioctyl to help skid up the darned Porcelain Throne evacuations. Messy. Gooey, watery! Eurgh!
I got a few Warfarin tablets ready, so the carers will have some available for the evening doses.
Then, had a bash at syringing both ears. Not only a total waste of time; I failed to remove any wax at all, but I made such a mess I had
to clean up the water that had sprayed out off or missed the ears! Hehe!
Got the kettle on and sorted the laundry, not forgetting that talk-a-lot Esther would give me some hassle if it wasn’t ready and sorted when she arrived later this morning! Not that she scares me an anything like that, of course. Ahem!
I took this snap of the lovely morning sky with its ever-changing hues. Mother Nature, again shows us her beauty! The beauty we have been destroying for years.
Got the computer on and started on the WordPress reader and commenting, and the ♫ Oh, Susana ♫ chime brought forth Carer Richard. I thought the lad was late coming; he’s had extra calls on again and was in a rush because he had a four-hour training session later when he finishes work with the Diabetes team to get through. No time for any good natterings today again. I think he felt guilty about it, so I tried to cheer him up, wished him all the best, and gave him a bag of treats. Then, I walked (well, hobbled) with Richard to the lift lobby and wished him well for the meeting.
Took this photo of the car park in front of Woodthorpe Court from the kitchenette window. Made a brew of Glengettie tea and was about to return to the computer with the nug of tea – but circumstances changed…
As usual with Neuropathy Pete, his timing caused the optimum amount of pain and hassle. An involuntary right-leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler drop-something and flail-about dance made me drop the cup as I grabbed Metal-Micky and the side of the sink to keep from going over. Once more, it was over in seconds, but I still managed to clout my knee on the edge of a floor cupboard. Which awakened Cartilage Cathy in agony! Humph!
Sorted myself out and took an extra Codeine. And fond this photo of a meal from which I can’t work out? It was not a good photo in any way, shape or form, so it might be one that I meant to delete from the file?
Started on the Snippets blog, and the Iceland delivery arrived. I let him in through the intercom box in the hallway, and I cleared a path to put the bags into.
The driver took the bags through to the kitchen for me. Gave him a choice of plonk cans in thanks. He opted, I noticed, for the Rum and coke. Hehe! Good for him; I hope it cheered him up a smidge.
They sent the Rustlers for Richard, sugar snap peas, mushrooms and some new Pork & Pickle Bites. Three for a fiver, so they must be good. One for Josie, one for Richard and one for Esther. I got some small apples that, hopefully, my lesser-teethed mouth can manage to eat. Har-har! They had no small vine tomatoes in stock but have sent me a pack of large tomatoes, Dutch, that had a sell-by date for today. No charge!
The best thing they had sent was the No-Moo ice creams and No-Bull burgers. The best of any burgers I have tried! The ice cream is by far superior in taste to what one might call natural ice cream. Grrreat Flavour both! I’d have ordered more, but I dared not with Iceland’s record of crap unrelated substitutions!
I had another go at getting the Snippet Ode done. (I did get it finished, but not until I’d been grafting on it, on & off, for another nine hours!) Esther arrived and came talkingly into the room. She still wasn’t near enough for me to hear her, and I feared that she may have something vital as she went into the hall, front, and living rooms.
It’s not so bad when she’s face to face and not shouting at me rather than talking to me. Esther, bless her, has a habit of talking and carrying on. Esther keeps talking to me from the rear of my ear lobes as she turns away… the peace and quiet are nice. But there is always danger in this… She has a great memory and thinks because she’s told me something, I must have heard it and will remember it. (Both are impossible in my condition, Haha!)
Then, a week later, I get an ear-bashing from about 4 inches distance and am informed that “I told you that last week!” telling offs. Luckily I can rest assured that Esther will nip off into the other room to have a nosey around my boxes and occasionally iron a shirt… but talking to me all the time from the other room… still, I knew what to expect. Hehe! Obviously, I had forgotten something or not heard it. I’m glad I got the pork & pickle thingamabobs for her now. Giving her then assuaged her aggression. I joke, of course… Erm? She’s an angel, really.
I got the ready meal into the oven and had roughly 40 minutes before it was cooked. I must not fall asleep!
Back to doing the blog, I trudged. ♫ Oh, Susana ♫ rang out, and I wearily (Mentally) went to the door. It was Josie, returning the tray and things for me from the Sunday meal. Bless her cotton socks; she enthused over the taste of this Sunday’s chilli stew! That cheered me up a bit! She even asked if I used to be a chef? Oh dearie me! My EQ was nervous at this. Naturally, I had no idea why at the time. A feeling of foreboding matured…
I got on with the Snippet blogging again! So deep in concentration… still making errors after cock-ups, though. Then it dawned on me that the food was in the oven!!!
Grade A: It looked like this after I’d burnt my fingers getting the tray out of the oven post haste! Not good, is it? But I was so tired and weary that I still used it and made a meal of sorts out of it.
I added some BBQ sauce to the tray. Got some slices of Milk Roll bread, tomatoes and sugar snap peas onto the tray.
I was part mad at myself, well darned annoyed with myself, and so tired and drained, I didn’t get too agitated. Yet I still laughed at myself as I tried to dismantle the encrusted burnt meal to get at some edible bits of food. It helped in having some bread and sauce to soak some resuscitated bits to eat.
By the time I’d finished burnt food mining, which was tasty, believe it or not, bits of burnt food had been scattered far and wide on my stomach folds, down the pants, on the tray, and on the floor and recliner cushion. The carpet took on a new design; there were many black, ash-like bits of residue on it. I faced a long task in getting things sorted… and the kitchen and oven needed cleaning attention as well.
I was all in by the time I got things semi-put right. I made a brew of Thompson’s Punjana tea and ate a huge bowl full of veggie ice cream! I finished it and lay there as I dropped off to sleep – it was so good that I think I dreamed of sleeping…
♫Oh, Susana♫ Chimed out, and Carer Valerie came in. I’d been up and about for around 12 hours by then, and waking up after five minutes of sleeping was not what I wanted… Hehehe! I remembered to give Valerie her Pork & Pickle whatsits, though.
I felt awful but could not resist the urge to finish the blog. The internet went down… now I was getting annoyed!
I pressed on and got the Snippets blog finished at long last. It stayed that way; it was now gone midnight! I realised then that I had not done the ablutions today!
Humph!
ODE TO PUTIN
Is it true that hopes and expectancies are always there?
Putin’s are conspicuous, World Domination, I fear…
He’s somewhat of a Worldwide parcel courier?
Soon, bigger, dirtier packages will be sent, and nuclear…
Where will the scumball strike next? Europe and Asia, it’s unclear… Anywhere, somewhere, possibly a country that’s weaker?
Is it true that he wears a lemon and pink brassier? Shags Igor Sechin, his First Deputy Prime Minister? He laughs at citizens dead or gathered for warmth around a brazier, The man could not be any more selfish and crazier!
I insult the shithead cause there’s nothing else I can do… But I would, if I could, send him a can of poisoned Irish stew, I wonder if he likes it from his minions in his rear? He’d like to make his competition dead or disappear? What competition? He’s got more weapons & forces than we do… He’s more soldiers in Moscow’s Red Square!
We cannot afford to send troops there…
We’ve not got enough, nor has anyone else, to be fair…
I wish we could send him Tony Blair…
Notice he’s not volunteered to do any damage repair?
Putin offers and hopes only for death and despair…
To the rest of the world, we can only die or forebear…
Unless you bribe him if you’re a financier?
Then he just might take a fancy to yer?
Early on the week so fewer murders, you see? Not that violence and killing, are my cup of tea… Death can be unexpected… come abruptly… Or a knife across the throat, from a druggie?
Or a murderer gets life… ten years and he is free… To kill again… it’s the Parole Board that’s guilty! In prisons, more prisoners become an escapee! It’ll happen again, I can guarantee! Each killer should become an amputee! Penis, hand, foot or leg, doesn’t matter to me…
Parole Board are paid so exorbitantly… Taking their pay, for acting fraudulently, As killer after killer, they set free! Most, to murder again… honestly! They should be hung straight immediately… As a freed killer takes another life away!
30 killers killed again after being freed I say… Release from prison twixt 2000 to 2010, May, Will there be justice for relatives one day? As parole board members, kill negligently, Innocent victims have to die this way? I share my views somewhat ineloquently, But I so hate Parole Boarder’s complacency!
That’s got that gripe out of the way for a bit… Onwards…
Mayhaps the officers good will they nouriture?
Will criminals expect this kindness, in the future?
And at the station, a glass of wine, a bowl of garbure?
Giving time to a mugger, to scratch his dojigger?
I can’t understand this… best you figure!
That’s three weeks on the trot that faults have been found in a care home? Mansfield Road too. It rings true to home about the medicines not being given on time or making sure they are taken. That’s if they come at all. I hope Meridian don’t get a sudden visit from the CQC… could be the end of the company. And there are so many characterful and a few empty, and brilliant Carers who call. Eventually, that is. There have only been three times they have missed.
More policemen hurt, yet again,
Violent crime is growing immane!
PCs ought to carry some enflurane…
Criminals using language, most profane…
No good talking to them nicely, that’s certain!
Most arrests seem to contain a blood stain?
Or bruise, getting battered about and pain…
These are for policemen, not for the villain!
Another young local scumball,
Scum-Bucket, I can see his home from my flat window,
Another local druggie, mug-whumph and crooked Amigo!
That’s a different weapon used for stabbing…
Policemen of Nottingham, and attacking
Spitting in their face and verbally ridiculing,
Is common, like many things, kicking, shooting…
No doubt police injuries are centuplicating,
Will they ever stop? I’m still waiting…
When I was born, I logged in at just over 3lb,
Weighed in the coal scales, the only thing around,
Mummy said, “I don’t want it, throw it in the Trent!”
Being told this later was a bit of a rent!
She did some things later that made me gay…
When I was four, she ran away!
And they say there’s no answer when you pray?
Good News at last?
Bad News continues! Haha!
The con-man drug-pusher, named Pauca Dzintars,
Escapes punishment, say for his mother he’s a carer,
So the law is kind to him, trying to be fairer…
His going free will undoubtedly make him cheerier,
He’ll go back to pushing, it makes him wealthier…
And thinking of the law, with a laugh and snigger!
ODE TO CRIME
Chasing violent crooks can be dangerous & risky, Offenders may be drugged up or drunk on whisky, When caught, if caught, they escape acrobatically, Killers are freed early, to murder again automatically, Officers are expected to act at all times ‘properly’!
Arrest people nicely, and do the job soberly… Getting knifed, shot, or stabbed, comes naturally… They must not say anything to prisoners inflammatory, They’ll get support nor help, Parliamentarily, It’s no wonder new recruits get a little fidgety!
