Inchcock’s Local Elections Survey – From hospital!

Reporter Juan Inchcock’s Interviews Hospital Staff and Patients

Juan had originally been out on his mission to obtain the views of the Nottingham public, on the upcoming Local Elections, while the July to August 2012 Olympics were taking place, but he suffered failure in that attempt when he was injured as a Mobility Scooter knocked him over, as he was out trying to get people’s views on the upcoming local elections for the WordPress Failed Writer’s Gazette’s Juan Inchcock Column – Local Elections Survey. Hence this, his second effort, done during his stay in ward E19 of the QMC hospital in Nottingham, as a result of his injuries received during his first attempt.

As soon as he started to come around after the hernia operation, he was again, on the job. Pen and pad at his bedside, ready to record the views of the NHS staff on the local elections.

His first victim to be interviewed was male nurse Mahmood Shafquat (23), who was returning the intrepid patient’s replacement urine bag, when pen in hand, Juan inquired of him:

“Do you have any views on the upcoming local elections in Nottingham that you’d like to share with readers of the WordPress Failed Writers Gazette Sir?”

“Too very busy!” was the reply, as he rushed off back to the rest room TV set, leaving behind him the aroma of cigarette smoke.

Moments later, a smiling SEN arrived with the medication chest, and started to issue Inchy with his prescribed tablets. He asked her for her views:

“Oh… will this be going on the internet then?”

“Well, yes I hope so” Inchy replied

“Good, that bastard Cameron and his shitty-headed rich snotty unelected set of champagne guzzling spoon-in-the-mouth gits should be assassinated, murdered, killed painfully, have their knobs chopped off, and be deported to Outer Mongolia, the scum bags, the punks, the nasty nihilistical knob-ends…”

A shaken Juan waited until she had finished her tirade then replied “Oh… well it was the local elections that I wanted to know your views about really nurse.”

She did not flinch from carrying out her duties and continuing to dispense the medications she said:

“It’s time we had a revolution you know, it should start here in crime ridden filthy Nottingham, knock-off the crooked councillors while the 280 Nottingham policemen are in London policing the Olympics, it should be easy, I can give you a contact number if you want to help us?”

A now severely confused Juan said:

“That’s alright thank you, I’ve got that down.”

The nurse then handed him a plastic cup of water, smiled gently and handed him his tablets saying “Now take these down Mr Inchcock, and take care now. See you later old timer.”

She moved on to the next bed, leaving our reporter dazed.

A Dr Inzamam Choudhury (41) from Gastroenterology visited Inchcock’s bed, and he was asked by Inchcock: “Do you have any views on the upcoming local elections in Nottingham that you’d like to share with readers of the WordPress Failed Writers Gazette please Sir?”

“Good heavens no, I live in Richmond and commute each day… you don’t think I’d live here in Nottingham do you?”

He was still laughing as he left the ward an hour later.

A little later, an Auxiliary Nurse informed the patients that could walk, that the food was ready to be collected at the end of the ward.

Juan got out of bed, and masterfully coped with the zimmer frame and saline drip stand with the accompanying tubes, and waddled down to get his food, pen and pad in his pyjama pocket.

The assistant issuing the food, being his target for an interview, he waited until the ‘rush’ died down, and asked his question, getting the reply from the large, aggressive beauty behind the food trays:

“What? Why do you want to know? Do you think I’ve got time to talk with the likes of you? Sod off!”

He struggled back down the corridor to his bed, really rather glad she had not given him any food, because he now realised he could not have carried it anyway.

Then, a Hygiene technician started to clean under Inchy’s bed, and he asked her what her views were on the upcoming local elections. She replied:

“Are you talking to me ducks?”

“Yes, if you don’t mind?”

“Bless yer” she replied, bent down an gave Inchy a kiss on his bald head, and walked away laughing?

The Senior Charge Nurse Lance Boyle (36) informed him that Dr Seymour Butt from Psychiatry was coming to have a talk with Inchy!

Once more confused, Juan thought at least he might be able to get the doctors views on the local elections.

The doctor arrived, drew the curtains around the bed, smiled and asked Juan to drop his pyjama bottoms, and started to examine in detail what had been exposed.

Juan took the chance to ask the doctor what his views were on the local elections.

The doctor carried on with his fondling and prodding, and replied:

“Not a lot, but I suppose the council has to be run by someone. They get a lot of stick I’m told…”

At this point Juan wondered why a doctor from the Psychiatry department had got his wedding tackle in his hands, and was smiling!”

Still, it was all over within an hour and a half and the Doctor patted Inchy on his head, thanked him, popped a polo mint in his mouth and wandered off?

At this stage, Inchy gave up his quest for people’s views on the upcoming local elections.

Inchcock Today: Saturday 23rd August 2014

Friday 22nd August 2014

Awoke, well tired and nervous for an unknown reason.

Did some blogging, and spent the rest of the day at the laptop doing graphics for later.

Bad day.

Saturday 23rd August 2014

Up around 0400hrs.

WC – much blood I’m afraid again. Tsk!

Cold this morning. Warmed up searching around for me hearing aids, eventually finding them on top of a packet of tea-bags? (Where else? I shouldhave known!).

Laptop on (Eventually), made cuppa, didn’t feel hungry. Mind you, last night I think it was a matter of me wanting comfort food. I ate 6 microwave sausages with a tin of beans, and much bread. Followed by a yogurt and iced lollies! Oh, and some seaweed too.

Managed to get me Conservatives Support post done, but it was hard work with me Arthur Itis bothering me fingers somewhat.

I read some blogs, there is some great stuff to read on WordPress you know.

I intend to have a good walk to and around town today, get me joints going a bit, I’ll take the camera of course. (Well… if I remember that is),

Not feeling too bright at the moment.

I decided to take me annual bath. (Joking…joking, I had one a month ago!) I’m always a bit weary, because I had a dizzy when getting out last year, and I did missen a fair bit of damage yer know.

WC.

Had a shave, then I wallowed and scrubbed a bit in the bath, then extricated missen from the bath without harm.

Dried off, and a good spray of Brute. Creams on me bottom, buttocks, arms, hands and knees as instructed. Pain gel on me knees and hands. And I tended to me Inch wound.

As I was moving the heater, unfortunately I dropped it on me toe. (Fancy that I said!)

WC.

I got dressed and hobbled downstairs, deciding not to go for any long walks after all, but take a shorter one due to me digit being wounded like. Put kettle on for half a cuppa.

Decided to walk into Sherwood, and take some more bits for the Nottingham Hospice Shop. Bought a book while I was there: ‘The Essential Spike Milligan.

The sky looked a bit threatening on the way.

Then caught bus to town, and walked through city to Broad Marsh bus station. Where I caught the bus out to Derby. Read some of me Spike book en route.

Fed the ducks and pigeons, had a wander around. There was a nasty accident near the council offices.

Caught bus to Mansfield. Read some more of me Spike book.

The sky was still looking threatening, but no rain yet through the sunshine.

As I was walking towards the market to see if they had any fresh pod peas today, a rather unruly collection of youths fell out of a pub doorway, assisted by the bouncers I think, and started pasting away at each other – I changed me mind and hobbled back to the bus station, and caught a bus back to Carrington.

I read a bit of my Eric Morecombe book on the way back to the flea-pit.

Getting dark clouds now, but still no rain.

Dropped off the bus and walked, well limped to the hovel.

No yobs on the street when I got back, that was nice.

WC.

Made a cuppa, started laptop to update this tosh.

Trying to post this, and the bloody BT link went altogether, had to wait half an hour fer it to come back… Grrrr!

Ah… the rain cometh now.

Letter in Support of the Conservative Party: From Claudia Cuthberstone-Featherstonehaugh (née Fontleberry)

Dearly beloved David Cameron,

I am a lifelong member and active supporter of the Conservative party, is indeed Mater, Pater and Nanny Amelia were.

I envisage the only way for us to gain a foothold in the Socialist untermensch voting areas, is the bourgeoisification of the lower order of the species.

I am aware that this concept may seem revolutionary in certain quarters. Please allow me to annotate my ideas further with appurtenance.

As we are all apprehend, the apathetic unindustrious benefit seeking majority of the Labour voters, are quiet content as long as they can obtain their Child Benefits, their pints and afford the odd bet at the bookmakers, these things go as said naturally.

What the gorgeously delicious Mr Cameron is failing to do, is to recognise the importance of these factors. It is essential that new false promises are advanced and presented to the proletariat with great extemporaneousness.

Suggestions compiled, I agree with a certain captiousness, by my local Conservative Appreciation Society here in East London:

* At the voting booths, we could offer vouchers for anyone voting Tory, for a free pint of lager, ale whatever it’s called. (Nothing to do with the delectable and Honourable George Gideon Oliver Osborne, having shares in three brewery’s).

* Hand-out a ‘Join Barclays Bank now, and get a free £1.50 voucher to use against any future mortgage applied for though Barclays.’ (Nothing to do with eleven MPs or their family members being paid ‘Advisors’ to Barclays whatever).

We appreciate that the kind Mr Cameron is already in the process of dismantling the police force and the NHS, and agree that both are a luxury that the plebians do not appreciate. But are we as a party making this plain to the scum masses? We really ought to be putting advertisements in the Daily Mirror, informing the unemployed and illegal immigrants that by our reducing the size of the police service can only be to their benefit. They can now steal, mug, rob and riot etc with so much more ease and far less risk of ever being caught! Thus encouraging those with a vote, to vote Conservative?

I hope these suggestions are adopted and they encourage many of the educationally lesser endowed morons to use their vote for their own benefit.

Yours

Claudia Cuthberstone-Featherstonehaugh (née Fontleberry)

Alien’s Begging Letter to Home from Nottingham Translated

Nottingham reporter and wicker-bottom chair repairer Juan Inchcock, has deciphered a letter meant for despatch to another planet, by an alien who had to make an emergency landing on earth, in the Nottingham Council Benefits Office toilets. (Currently under review for closure)

Here is the Juan translated wording:

Dear Mother & Father,

Just to let you know that I am safe after the Lunarzodiac 1066510437 Transportation Vehicle crash landed on the planet Earth.

**The kind earthlings attempted to rescue me when I crash landed… I think?**

I landed on a little island called Britain (Although some of the population are out in jail and fined for calling it England?) in a built up locality known as Nottingham, in the centre of the island.

The kind local people must have seen I was in trouble, and broke into the building to try and rescue me.

The many locals immediately took away my damaged LTV-vehicle parts, and I assumed by way of a greeting and welcome, there were many of their land vehicles with blue flashing lights and klaxons in celebration of my safe landing.

They belted me around the head several times, presumably to make me feel at home with the others taking part in what I now know is bi-annual festival they observe here in their summer, as depicted by one of the placards one of their younger rings in the nose types in a gang of 40 or so who were playfully chasing, and throwing lit torches at two men in uniform in one of the vehicles that had the blue flashing lights on top, as they sped away, was carrying that read ‘Blood & Fear’, known as ‘Riots’.

I have been here a long while now, and have discovered many things about this race called, humans, and their habits and ways.

Different nations of the globe use different kinds of ‘currency’ for trading, pleasure, and killing each other. It seems those with the most currency live longer, can get medical help quicker, and tend to be the ruling class of the planet.

Every few years, their leaders send the lower classes to commit something called genocide on the peoples of other nations?

It appears they are now running out of oil, fuels, and common sense.

I have also found out that many of our own criminals have landed here over the years, and taken new identities: Judas Iscariot, Caligula, Mao Si Tung, Joseph Stalin, Adolph Hitler, Idi Amin, Tony Blair and David Cameron being amongst the names they adopted.

**They call this liquid Guinness – it gives the drinker of sufficient quantities a feeling like space-lag they tell me**

They drink beverages, like the ‘Beer’ that was cheap until recently, and enjoyed by their proletariat classes, despite their desire to swear, fight, and have a curry and be sick afterwards. And hot burning liquids, called ‘Spirits’ which destroys the livers of the better off ones.

When the lower order of their species get their ‘Benefit currency’, they go straight to what they call a ‘Bookmaker’ and donate much of it to him. Apparently giving it to multiple bets, place, win, each-way, double, treble, accumulator, or a round robin.

I have yet to find out why, but this seems to make a Mr Coral, Mr Ladbrooke, Mr Betfred, and Mr Paddy Power so happy.

I have noticed that the ‘Britains’ seem to collect many peoples from other countries, Pakistan, Kurdistan, Poland, Jamaica, Lithuania, Romania etc. This causes difficulties in their understanding each other. But they seem to get on fairly well. And the locals kindly put out green bins on the pavements for the others to sort through each day. I think these are a generous people.

Some of the younger ones do not get enough food, education, or ‘Currency’ to exist very well. Others have enough of everything, even making servants of other well ‘Currencied’ beings, by making them fags?

Those in charge, are crooked, cruel and inconsiderate, but the masses don’t seem to mind, as long as they get their Benefit cheque, child allowance, Coronation Street, Football, sex, and ‘A good piss up once a week’.

I have decided to come home to Eruxtrasphere One in a few weeks time.

This is due to an impending disaster in the capital of the country, when they hold something called ‘The World Cup’ there.

**This is where I’ll be waiting to get collected from… Please!**

I read that the BNP will be out protesting, the Muslim Brotherhood will be out protesting, Al Qaeda will be out protesting, the Keep the Police Stations Open Protesters will be out protesting, the striking Teachers will be out protesting, the Failed Asylum Seekers Support Groups will be out protesting, the Respect party members will be out protesting, the We Love Greggs Supporters will be out protesting, and Argentina and Iran may well be attacking the country in the same month!

I will be at the number 17 bus stop in Bulwell Market in Nottingham between 1100hrs and 1200hrs daily from June first.

Please come and collect me!

Love Splgrhgh

XXX

Inchcock Today: Thursday 21st August 2014

♥ I was up at 0330hrs. (No choice in the matter, urgent WC attention required and I couldn’t get off afterwards Tsk!)

Usual brekkers, took medications and then thought I’d start the laptop and get on with some posts I’d nearly got ready for WordPress.

The laptop took an inordinately long time to start, I really am expecting the worst from the old gal soon. When she did get going, I lost the BT signal repeatedly.

Eventually I go both going after several reboots, restarts and complete reboot. Good old BT.

Spend far too long getting graphics ready for post later, but I did enjoy doing them though.

About 1230hrs, I did me ablutions and put me togs on, and set off I’d decided, to walk to Nottingham Hospice shop taking some bits for em again, and then to catch bus to town and go for a ride out to Derby, taking me books with me. See… I can plan ahead yer know sometimes.

As I was going up the little hill, I thought the skyline warranted a photo – hen I got the camera case out of me bag, I realised I’m left the batteries on change back in the hovel.

So, I hobbled backed to the hovel and got em um put in. Change of plan at this stage.

I had a walk into town (Took photo), and caught the round-about route bus to Bulwell. Then visited the Fultons cheapo Freezer shop in the hope of getting another pack of the cheapo but very good microwave pork sausages, and they had some in again, so gorra pack.

Then had a walk to the cheapo shop, but again, they had nowt in I wanted or fancied.

By now, me feet and knees were aching to say the least.

Dropped the things (DVDs books and a wall clock) off at the Headway Charity Shop, and bought a book, as I’d finished me Hitler the Commander book on the bus going there.

Believe this or not, but a Mobility Scooteress reversed and nearly clobbered me – I tooketh a photo, but she was well on her way by then.

On me hobble back to the bus station I called in Heron Frozen food shop to have a decker. They had some orange suckers at 10 for a quid, and Bread flats on offer at a quid, so I got one of each like.

As I was walking past the market place, a Mobility scooter came close to catchin’ me one as he went passed me and jumped off and went into the bookies… Tsk!

Caught the 17 bus back, cause it drops me off quiet close to the flea-pit.

No yobs about I’m very glad to say. Bet they’ll be out later…

As I turned into the street, the were a dead mouse at me feet! So I took a photo like.

Got in, started the laptop, put me nosh away, made a cuppa. I updated this crap, and posted it.

Did some microwave sausage sandwiches with bbq sauce, followed my an orange sucker. And ate it when I got off the WC.

Taketh care all.

♫ An Inchcock’s lot is not a happy one (Happy one)… ♫

This may make very sad reading, I think you will agree,

It’s not for Inchcock, a holiday on the Aegean sea,

A hobble to feed the ducks on the canal is what it’ll be,

He lives on dry bread and out of date beans or mouldy brie,

You cannot call him educated or a bourgeoisie,

He looks like a demented overweight limping pygmy,

He’s old and decrepit, for his coffin he’s now ready,

Gets as much respect as a Brooke Bond chimpanzee,

He puts up with insults, innuendo and much phooey,

Many including himself questioning his sanitation and sanity,

His Brother in law thinks it is time to have him put down gently,

His arthritis and angina make him gobble vitamin B,

He hobbles around talking to himself each day,

Arthritic knees, and his waterworks are getting leaky,

The eyes and hearing are going, and he’s got dropsy,

His pension is limited although not measly,

How long his new heart will last, we can’t guarantee,

He craves a woman – he’s more chance of winning a grand prix!

Death is not unwelcome to Inchy – it will set him free,

From being bullied, ignored and mugged badly,

Before he goes, perhaps just one plea?

Before he gets to meet Hitler and Elvis Presley,

Please give him in heaven, a nice settee,

His earth house is too small to get one into you see,

Oh, and some another things he’ll miss clearly,

The cups of nice strong flavoured Yorkshire tea,

His bladder’s endless calling him to painfully pee,

The insults, the snubs and muggings he has to decree,

His daily hobbles, when he has the vitality,

His fear of Mobility scooters, he’s been hit by three,

His nervousness of going out when it’s icy or slippery!

If you want a consultation with him, anytime it’ll be free,

Don’t call him though, he’s been cut-off by BT.

Thank you matey

Anyone wanting a copy of me ‘Don’t get feeling down, you might not drowned’ booklet, I have a few copies left at a reduced price from £9.99 down to 2p

Walks of Ye Olde Nottingham: Bulwell

Along Bulwell Main Street

Join our guide for the day, decrepit Senior Citizen and Retired Cinema Wall Gas Light Lighter and Snuffer Outerer Technician of bad sanitary habits and Nottingham resident Bartholomew Utterswaithe, for a walk: Along Bulwell Main Street today, comparing the same walk with that of 1963, when your guide was working on that same street.

Your tour guide Bartholomew will stroll down from what today is the KFC take away, at the end of Hucknall Lane along Main Street into Bulwell Market and to the train and tram Station.

We start off at:

2014:

The recently ram raided Kentucky Fried Chicken outlet.

1963:

Where once stood the proud Adelphi cinema, tickets from 9d (4p) to 1/3d (5¼p).

2014:

On our left, is a second hand car showroom, offering on the front, a 1992 Land Rover for £6,999.

1963:

On the same spot, amazingly, there was a Land Rover dealership outlet, offering a new Land Rovers at £2,935.

2014:

Further up on the left, stands the dilapidated old Sharp’s Vauxhall Dealership premises – destroyed when travellers used it as a base some years ago, and been for sale or rent ever since, no takers though.

1963:

Sharp’s Vauxhall Dealership premises, offering the new Chevette from a price of £1,593!

2014:

On our right, the Cancer Research charity shop, that was in the news recently when they were raided by two knife wielding local yobs.

1963:

Two cottages, later bought by investors and sold to Councillor Arbuthnot.

2014:

Further along, the Extra Charity shop, with furniture etc available for those in need.

1963:

A motorbike shop. With the new Honda 50 cub at under £100 for sale.

2014:

The new Tesco now stands on our left – as yet not raided or fire bombed, but it’s new, give them time. Although the local shoplifters took to it straight away.

1963:

The Scots Grey public House, beer at 1/- (5p) a pint, skittles alley, darts, dominoes, tip-it, bar skittles, shove halfpenny, fags at 3/2d (15¼p) for twenty, good company, an RAOB lodge and a buxom landlady… ah memories!

2014:

As we veer left to main shopping part of the road, come across, a closed down retail unit, another charity shop, a closed down retail unit, a stationery shop, a bank, another charity shop, a closed down retail unit, a Pay Day Loan outlet, a cake shop, a bank, a building society, a closed down retail unit, a butchers, Iceland, a cheap frozen food shop, a closed down retail unit, a shoe shop, a charity shop, a pub, a bingo shop, a buy your gold shop, a closed down retail unit, the ATM that was raided last week outside the bank, the alleyway where the two women were attacked last February, and the ram raided jewellery store that has not opened since, Ali’s newspaper shop, a closed down retail unit, finally near the market place, the Wilko’s store that was broken into last weekend, another favourite with the local shop-lifters.

1963:

There was, a newspaper shop, a sweet shop, a greengrocers, a wet fishmongers, a chip shop, a second hand shop, a bank, a police station, two pubs, a butchers, a cake shop, a Sanderson’s Tripe shop, a Fine Fare supermarket, a Cycle shop, a hairdressers, a hardware shop, a bakers, Roses shoe shop, a Farrand’s grocery shop, a post office, and a wines and spirits shop. The shoplifting craze hadn’t fully installed itself with the local at this time.

2014:

Now at the market: It has all been pedestrianised, the market is no longer held five days a week, but three, and the 54 stalls that used to be there, are down to about 11. Bakers, three greengrocers stalls of sorts, socks & gloves stalls, hot-cold take-away foods, fishmongers van, four women’s clothes stalls, games stall, DVD stall, Accident
cinsurers/claims people lurking, and depressed big issue sellers were there on the day of our visit.

1963:

Then, there were several greengrocery stalls, two bakery stalls, two butchers stalls, pottery stalls, a fishmonger, a hot pie and peas whelks etc. stall, a chip shop van, a grocery stall, a florist stall, men’s-wear stalls, ladies-wear stalls, shoe stalls, toy stalls, record stalls, hardware stalls, sweet stalls, etc. The trolley buses terminus around the traffic island. (3d [1¼p]maximum fare)

2014:

Around the market: Greggs hot food (20% VAT), Cohen’s Jewellery shop, cheap freezer centre, cheap foods, a pound shop, stationers, a butcher who sells his meat by the tray with no weights indicated, a book shop, JCP benefits office, the Police Station torched in the riots (still closed), the bus station (£1.80 minimum fare), café’s, the canal (where the two kids threw another kid into it last January), the new Tram stop, and the highly ignore pedestrian crossing.

1963:

Marsden’s Grocers (I worked there), Newspaper shop, sweet shop, shoe shop, Jewellery store, Woolworth’s, Elmo supermarket, Co-op grocers, pub, the butchers who sold the glorious beef dripping with jelly, Chip shop, Police Station (With Policemen), furniture shop, record shop, and a Cowheel, tripe, pie & jellied eel shop.

The sound of the market in 1963 were those of the barkers selling their wares and food, the bus conductors calling out to the passengers, the laughter of the children and their mothers telling them off, and the occasional sound of traffic. (The trolley buses made no noise other than that of their tyres)

Today, we heard the constant stream of bad language coming from the kids, while their mothers ignored them as they were using their mobile phones to shout down, and the sound of emergency services sirens seemed to be always in the air.

Never mind eh!

Inchcock Today: Wed 20th Aug 2014

Evening Tuesday 19^th

Tried to get some sleep in, I knew I felt drained and weary. But no such luck. Tried reading my book, I had no concentration though. Put a DVD in my little player, ‘Westworld…’ (Another one for the Charity shop) that did it, off I went.

Wednesday 20^th August 2014

Woke up 0230hrs, full of dread and fear. Must have been dreaming again, but couldn’t recall anything about it. Drifted off again.

Sprung awake at 0430hrs. No chance of further sleep this morning I thought.

WC, okay.

I remembered I’d got me Morrison’s order coming between 0630 – 0730hrs this morning, so reluctantly got up.

Laptop started, made a cuppa, grape-nut flakes and medications taken.

WC, okayish.

Started doing graphics and writing posts while awaiting Mr Morrison.

There order came, (It was a Ms) and there was nothing substituted or missing.

Finished Inchy’s Beloved Grizelda Part 3 and posted it. Then did a new one from Patti Beckert’s site about the Mobility Scooters.

Got letter from DVLA telling me my Driving Licence that they took away from me after me heart operation was going out of date and I need to renew it?

Filled in form tellin’ em, and got a wash and change ready to take to post office and renew it then. See what happens.

Started on me walk into Sherwood about 1315hrs. Took camera, just in case owt should be suitable to photo like… yer know.

Called at the Haberdashery (there it is again, Haberdashery… I love that word) shop, and the lady sorted me a firmer cushion out, for £4.99, the last one in the shop bless her.

I then dropped into the post office and got the right stamp on me DVLA letter I sent back.

Took a photo of the sky over Sherwood, cause it had some black clouds with sunshine bursting through some.

Then to the Nottingham Hospice Charity shop with some stuff.

I was walking back, and realised I’d not got me cushion with me!

I hobbled back to all the places I’d called in – but no signs of it – what a class one pillock I am!

I got back to the den about 1500hrs, a little miffed with myself about losing the cushion. Especially after the kind lady had looked so hard to get me one to suit.

Laptop on, made a cuppa and decided to have a potato and veg mix, with me last slice of cooked pork, and a small tin of garden peas for tea… supper whatever you call it later.

BT internet keeps fading out – well I never, who’d have believed that eh!

Gang of 70-Year Olds on Mobility Scooters Terrorising Orlando Tourists

This post is one of Patti Beckert’s masterpieces. She is an excellent humour blogger from America. It is posted here with her kind permission. Patti, has gone through an awful lot of pain with medical problems, and the way she accepted the situation brought me to love her and her blogging style and content. At the bottom are some graphics I did a few years ago, from Daily Lessons she used to let me post. Thanks Patti. I hope you all enjoy this one, particularly as it contains my dreaded Mobility Scooters! Please enjoy, I reckon it’s a cracker… just like Patti. TTFN

Gang of 70-year olds on Mobility Scooters Terrorizing Orlando Tourists

The streets of some of Orlando’s most popular tourist destinations are being randomly terrorized by a gang of septuagenarians on mobility scooters. The gang, calling itself the 7 T’s, has so far escaped the law by ducking into restaurants during early bird special time, removing their gang regalia in the bathrooms, and then ordering meals consisting of 10 oz. ribeyes, a salad, and two sides, all for a portion of what they would pay after 6 p.m.

Eyewitness reports say the gang has equipped its scooters with little black flags emblazoned with the skull and crossbones design and their name, the 7 T’s. While no one has been able to pin down a member of the gang to ask where the name came from, word in local assisted living facilities is that the original seven members of the gang all had first names or nicknames starting with the letter “T” such as Throttle, T-bone and Tats.

The only other criteria for getting into the gang according to anonymous tipsters is that you must be at least 70 years old, own a relatively new personal scooter that can do at least 10 mph and the guts to run down youngsters wearing funny Disney hats. Evidently, the thrill for this gang is seeing young kids in Mickey ears cry when they are forced to drop their Shamu ice cream sticks on the ground.

The Orlando area police departments are asking all residents in the area to be on the lookout for these “Hells Angels Has Beens” as one poster calls them. Meanwhile, retired cops from New York who make their winter home in Orlando have been called in to help round up the gang and bring them to justice. One NY snowbird, a former desk sergeant from Brooklyn named Wayne McDuffy, said this about tracking down the gang, “Weah gonna find deez Joisey jagoffs, awright, if it’s da last ting we do,” and added “So waddah you lookin at?”

Some more of Patti’s wit posted here:

Professor Amadeus Grimesworthy Gives Lecture in Nottingham

Professor Amadeus Grimesworthy Gives Lecture in Nottingham – ‘We must ensure a future for our children’

**Created in support of the Sloshed Mr Steeden Supply Support Society**

**The Caretaker Mr Steeden helps the Professor. Who couldn’t find the shed door**

Nottingham University’s Emeritus Professor Amadeus Grimesworthy PhD, EdD, DClinPsych, LPsy, and Wicker Bottom Chair Repairer, gave a speech to the Crotch Crescent Community Club Committee in Nottingham last week.

Professor Grimesworthy is involved with many Child Charities and help organisations including:

* As Catering organiser for ‘Childline’: the24 hour helpline for children and young people in danger or distress.

* As Misuse of Drugs Advisory Supplier: for the ‘National Youth Advocacy Service’ (NYAS).

* He is Funeral Options Consultant for ‘Sibs’ who support siblings who are growing up with or who have grown up with a brother or sister with any disability, long term chronic illness, or life limiting condition.

* He is currently Chief Warden at ‘Child Exploitation and Online Protection Centre’ (CEOP)

* The Treasurer of the ‘Children’s Society’: A children’s charity which wants to create a society where children and young people are valued, respected and happy.

* The Director of ‘SKSIAKW’ – ‘Stop Kids Shoplifting in a kind way’.

He arrived at the centre, parked up his Range Rover, posed for the press photographs, and entered the shed.

He was welcomed at the 11 seated Le Grand meeting hall shed at the side of the disused and fire-bombed Radford Road Police Station next to the torched police vehicle compound, and was introduced to the audience gathered, by caretaker and Association Treasurer Mike Steedon (22).

The lecture was entitled ‘We must ensure a future for our children’

“We must” he began with a stern expression, “learn from the past, and ensure the future of our children.”

“Already we have used up the natural resources of this planet at an alarming rate… and the death of our planet is imminent!”

A belch from a tattooed lady in the front row caused a little tittering at this point.

“We must coerce the Governments to reinvest in space exploration – for there is no other choice available to us, than to find a planet where our future populations can live, thrive and reproduce, for the existence of our species.”

Someone’s mobile rang out, and a voice was heard saying “Yea yea yea innit… ten spiff’s okay… alright Gaz?”.

Professor Grimesworthy continued, “So precious to the human race are our children, that nothing is too expensive or good for them – for they are our very future… their very essence must me treasured, the children are our future.”

He waited momentarily for signs of appreciation and applause from the audience that didn’t come, just a few swishing sounds from the opening of cans of beer.

Professor Grimesworthy continued again, “It is our responsibility, after the mess our and previous generations have made of this very world’s resources, to commit ourselves to providing the young of our planet, with the capability and reality of precious survival!”

Someone passed wind, and a Big Issue seller entered the hall.

At this point the door flew open, and in ran a Community Police Officer, who whispered into Mr Steeden’s ear.

Mr Steeden then woke up the Chairman, Mr Danton and whispered into his ear. Mr Danton then whispered into Professor Grimesworthy’s ear.

Professor Grimesworthy then ran outside to find his Range Rover on bricks, the wheels stolen, the music centre removed, and he saw the graffiti momentarily through the flames of the fire scrawled on the doors.

Professor Grimesworthy turned red in the face and screamed out: “The little B_____rds!”

**The Chairman consoles Binaround Brenda**

While they awaited the arrival of the Fire Brigade and Police, Professor Grimesworthy was comforted by a local woman, Binaround Brenda (56), then Chairman Mr Danton said ‘He would take care of her.’ The Professor complained and cancelled his next trip to Nottingham, as he drove off in a taxi.

The Chairman was last seen consoling Binaround Brenda, as she rested on his cars bonnet.