Inchie Today

Quotes and Predictions from the 1950/60’s – They should make you think…

How things change eh?

This list was compiled by Juan Inchcock Chambers, Britain’s answer to Diphtheria and decrepit unpaid, overweight chronically sick and ancient reporter for this Blog, for your perusal and enjoyment. Should you find this article enjoyable, readable, interesting or entertaining and thought provoking; Please contact Juan at The Nottingham Savoy Hotel, the Basement, between the fifth and sixth Refuse Collection Bin on the right, next to the Big Issue satchels. You can contact him during the hours of darkness nesting in the Kellogg’s Corn Flake box there.

Here are some quotes from people made during the 1950/60’s

(1) “I’ll tell you one thing, if things keep going this way, its’ going to be impossible to buy a week’s groceries for less than £10 I can tell yer”

(2) “Have you seen the new cars coming out next year? It won’t be long before they start charging over £100 for em.”

(3) “If cigarettes keep going up in price, I’m going to quit. 2/- (10p) a pack, this is ridiculous.”

(4) “Did you hear the post office is thinking about charging a 6d (2 .5p) just to mail a letter?”

(5) “The Government wants to get its hands on everything. Pretty soon it’s going to be impossible to run a family business or farm.”

(6) “When I first started driving, who would have thought petrol would someday cost 2/- (10p) a gallon. Guess we’d be better off leaving the car in the garage.”

(7) “I never thought I’d see the day all our kitchen appliances would be electric. They are even making electric typewriters nowadays.”

(8) “Also, their music drives me wild. This ‘Rock Around The Clock’ thing is nothing but racket.”

(9) “I’m afraid to send my kids to the movies any more. Ever since they let Clark Gable get by with saying ‘damn’ in ‘Gone With The Wind,’ it seems every movie has a ‘hell’ or damn’ in it nowadays.”

(10) “Also, it won’t be long until couples are sleeping in the same bed in the movies. What is this world coming to?”

(11) “Marilyn Monroe is now showing her bra and panties, so apparently there are no standards left any more.”

(12) “Soon you won’t be able to buy a decent 6p (2.5p) cigar.”

(13) “I read the other day where some scientist thinks it’s possible to put a man on the moon by the end of of the century. They even have some fellows they call astronauts preparing for it down in Texas yer know… really I’m not joking”

(14) “Did you see where that Chelsea football player just signed a contract for £56 a week, just to play football? It wouldn’t surprise me if someday they’ll be making more than the Prime Minister.”

(15) “Kids today are impossible. Those duck tail haircuts make it impossible to stay groomed. Next thing you know, boys will be wearing their hair as long as the girls.”

(16) “1/- (5d) for a loaf of bread? Christ, where will it end?”

(17) “It’s too bad things are so tough nowadays. I see where some married women might have to work to make ends meet.”

(18) “It won’t be long before young couples are going to have to hire someone to watch their kids so they can both work.”

(19) “Marriage doesn’t mean a thing any more; those Hollywood stars seem to be getting divorced at the drop of a hat.”

(20) ” I’ll tell you one thing. If my son ever talks back to me, he won’t be able to sit down for a week.”

(21) “Did you know the new Vicar is allowing women to wear slacks to their services?”

(22) “Next thing you know is, the government will start paying us not to grow crops.”

(23) “I’m just afraid that new Volkswagen car is going to open the door to a whole lot of foreign business.”

(24) “The picture houses are now charging 1/- (5p) entry fee, this will mean the end of the industry I can tell you.”

(25) “Why in the world would you want to send your daughter to college? Isn’t she going to get married? It would be different if she could be a doctor or a lawyer.”

(26) “I advised my children to smoke Craven ‘A’ cigarettes, they are better for the throat you know.”

(27) “There is no fun in going to Skegness or Mablethorpe any more for a weekend. It costs nearly £2 a night to stay in some of the Nottingham Hotels now. And even the lodging houses are charging well over 3/6 (17.5p) a night!”

(28) “Now they are changing the meters (Gas/Electricity) to take shillings now (5p) instead of one penny!”

(29) “AA and RAC patrols on the ‘A’ roads will always be there for you”

(30) “If a few idiots want to risk their necks flying across the country that’s fine, but nothing will ever replace trains.”

(31) “I don’t know about you but if Wimpy’s raise the price of coffee to 3p (1.4p), I’ll just have to drink mine at home.”

(32) “If they think I’ll pay 1/6d (7.5p) for a haircut, forget it. I’ll have the wife learn to cut hair.”

(33) “We won’t be going out much any more. Our baby sitter informed us she wants 6p (2.5p) an hour. Kids think money grows on trees.”

(34) “Cars which dim their lights by sensors, automatic transmissions, and who knows what else? Pretty soon they will drive themselves.”

35) “After this Profumo affair, our Members of Parliament will become more reliable I’m sure!”

36) ” When you grow up lad, all of the wars will have finished, folks have got to learn from history you see, it’s inevitable son.”

Inchy Today: Monday 4th Aug 2014

Up after another nasty nightmare filled night at about 0430hrs.

Morrison’s delivery expected this morning twixt 0700 and 0800hrs.

BT internet playing up again.

Made cuppa, took medications.

Searched for the DVD I ordered three weeks ago from HMV, and collected last Friday. ‘The Big Job’. Sid James, Dick Emery, Jim Dale, a good old comedy. Tried to watch it last night, but HMV had left the security thingy on it, so I wanted to put in bag now, so I could return it and get em to remove it. But couldn’t find it – Tsk!

BT internet connection crap, now gone all together (0525hrs)

Got laundry things ready for after delivery of nosh.

BT back on-line 0550 hrs. Nice of em innit?

BT back OFF-LINE 0556 hrs. Reset box again… Gits!

BT back on-line 0600 hrs.

BT back OFF-LINE 0601 hrs.

BT back on-line 0604 hrs.

I lost connection between 0550hrs and 0620 hrs about eight/nine times! Grrrr, had to keep resetting or rebooting. Gave up.

Anyone else on BT, How’s your connection today?

Morrison’s delivered at 0734 hrs. Put the stuff away. (Well, some of it).

0800 hrs, ablutions and got launderette togs ready, so much to take I could hardly carry em.

On the way to the launderette, an amoeba belted passed me on a pushbike un frit me half to death, almost hit me. I called out, and soon learnt he was an experienced driver by the finger sign he gave me as he disappeared into the distance, bless him!

At the launderette, I had a good laugh with the gal there, and we tried to do a crossword. Cheered me up that did.

Back to the hovel, put togs away (Well, dropped the bags upstairs), and did another search for the DVD – and wallah; I found it. Where you might ask… er… in the bath actually, don’t ask why it was there, I don’t know.

Took an apple and pack of seaweed and other healthy food to eat on me walk into town. Must remember to take the DVD back to be opened.

Called on me way, to tell… oh I forget her name now, the laundry gal that I’d found the DVD. She did laugh… bless her.

Hobbling into town, halfway up the hill on Mansfield Road near the cemetery, blow me if someone else didn’t belt passed me on a bike on the pavement, nearly knocking me over. I’m getting fed up with these near misses from bikers.

Went into Tesco and got me Krakowska meat. Then limped into the slab square, took a photo of the disgusting children’s fountain and paddling pool. Dumped at the end of it, were beer cans and bottles, cigarette ends, sweet wrappers, crisp packets etc.

Proceeded, (I could have written carried on to, or Then, but I like typing Proceeded) along to the bank to extract some money and get me balance (Oh dear me).

Then took a walk to Aldi, and got some of their excellent Lemon cheesecakes and Porridge pots (what Lidl have stopped selling).

Feet and knees on bad shape now, so wandered to the bus stop, and caught one back to Beirut… I mean Carrington. As I got off the bus, a bloody motorcyclist this time, nearly hit me, as he drove on the pavement to the chip shop! I bravely took his photo from behind him.

I tottered back to the dump, and made a nice cup of Punjana tea bags. They are very good and strong, and they’re on offer at the moment at Morrison’s too, 49p off.

Started the laptop, and the BT connection was okay, perhaps they think I’m still in town?

1500 hrs BT connection down… Tsk! Back up 1509 hrs.

Started to do graphics for Letters to LOMM 8

Gang of about eight youths swaggering up the centre of the street. Hope they keep moving.

Getting on with graphics.

Yobs lurking outside again, going to go upstairs out of the way.

I’ll post this and try to remember to carry on the next from this time.

Must remember to take me medications up with me.

TTFN all.

Inchy’s E-Mail to the Nottingham Constabulary

Inspired by a letter published in the Daily Telegraph

The E-Mail

Having been bothered with the local yobs on my street, several times, and mugged twice. I’d like to give you an update on my situation.

Having spent the past twenty minutes waiting for someone at Nottingham Sherwood police station to pick up a telephone I have decided to abandon the idea and try e-mailing you instead. Perhaps you would be so kind as to pass this message on to your colleagues in Sherwood by means of smoke signal, carrier pigeon or Ouija board.

As I’m writing this e-mail there are eleven failed medical experiments (I think you call them youths) in Sherbrooke Road, Carrington, Nottingham

Three of them seem to enjoy insulting passing pedestrians and motorists, threatening them as the pass.

The remaining five walking abortions are happily rummaging through several bags of rubbish and items of furniture that someone has so thoughtfully dumped beside the wheelie bins.

Several of them wander off to set fire to the odd bin. When they get to house number 14, I am concerned they might cause a catastrophe, due to the location of a rusty Calor gas bottle between the bins. If they could be relied on to only blow their own arms and legs off then I would happily leave them to it. I would even go so far as to lend them the matches. Unfortunately they are far more likely to blow up half the street with them and I’ve just finished cleaning me windows.

What I suggest is this. After replying to this e-mail with worthless assurances that the matter is being looked into and will be dealt with, why not leave it until the one night of the year (probably their bath night) when there are no mutants around then drive up the street in a panda car before doing a three point turn and disappearing again. This will of course serve no other purpose than to remind us what policemen actually look like.

I trust that when I take a claw-hammer to the skull of one of these throwbacks you’ll do me the same courtesy of giving me a four month head start before coming to arrest me.

Thank You

Juan Inchcock Chambers.

Inchcock Interviews a Time Traveller!

Bespectacled, aged, bald, hearing-aids wearing, short, plump, WordPress.com ace unpaid senile reporter Juan Inchcock Chambers, can now declare that time-travelling is happening today! He has met with and interviewed a traveller from the future, one Zip Vladimir Ivanovic Alonso, who he claims came from the year 2218. Doubters can contact Juan at the side of Trent Bridge near the railings at the fire bombed cafe. The very place where Juan met Zip as he materialised in front of him, and broke his bottle of meths.

The Interview

Inchcock: Why did you travel back to our time Zip?

Zip: Life was finishing on earth in 2044, and it was either £819bn for a ticket to the moon, or £102m for a one way trip back in time at the ‘Travel-back Arcade’.

Inchcock: When and where did you ‘land’ here, if that’s the terminology?

Zip: Same place, as it always is, in this time it was on the embankment near Trent Bridge in the Meadows area of Nottingham. Of course in my day, the Bridge had been long gone, no fresh water left you see, where I appeared if you like, on the steps of the river, was actually the same space as the Travel-back Arcade’s departure lounge.

Inchcock: What was your first thought on getting here Zip?

Zip: That our 2044 Government history tapes supplied by our Minister of Education Montague Abdullah-Miliband were all wrong, I saw you actually did have food available in 2014. Our tapes tell us only the rich were eating in this era, while the deficient, impecunious, impoverished, disabled, and inadequate ones had already starved to death, been fed to the few remaining cattle, or been used in experimentations”.

Inchcock: Would you like to remain and settle here in 2014 Nottingham Zip?

Zip: No, I wouldn’t fit in would I, and the names of the people, archaic names such as Smith, Danton, Williams, etc. No I think it best if I return to my own time once I’ve raised the cash.

Inchcock: Oh, er.. What are your plans now then?

Zip: To get myself ‘in’ with the predecessors’ of the families that will run the world, to make sure I can afford a ticket to the moon when it comes this time… do you happen to know how I can contact any of the Scottish Brown, Cameron, Bush’s or the Saudi Royal Family members, do you?

Inchcock: No, sorry…

With that, the time-traveller faded into the atmosphere and was gone, leaving Inchcock to lick up what he could salvage of his spilt meths.

Part 2: My Beloved Grizelda – Bringing her home

Giselda was about 5’11” tall, around 15 stone (solid with it), lovely black hair, gorgeous wide hips, tree trunk legs that I instantly wanted to wrap myself around for a month or so. I went where no man had gone before… and boy was it good, did I enjoy it or what!

Part Two – Taking her home…

I was getting myself ready to go and pick up Grizelda, as arranged, from the cottage she was staying in for her visit to England to visit her pen friend and my mate’s wife Susan.

As I was shaving, I was already getting palpitations from certain regions of my anatomy, at the very thought of once more gaining access to Grizelda’s foibles and bodily parts. I came out of dream I was in, and thought I’d better give her a ring to make sure all was still on as planned.

Surprisingly when I called, Susan said Grizelda was shaving too.

She passed on the message that she would meet me at the garden gate at 1100hrs.

I arrived, and as I saw her smile break out above that muscular body, I had to control my legs on the clutch.

I got out to meet her, and she picked me up gave me a wonderful slobbering kiss, put me down, and briefly cuddled my groin area and licked my bald head.

I named my old Allegro Estate, Wilhemena. She’s in the garage again here. She went there a lot!

She got into my Austin Allegro estate, the springs were tested as she sat next to me, and adroitly squeezed certain bodily areas of her choice.

We arrived back at the flat, and she did a tour of it and showed her approval.

I was about to make a cuppa and something for us to eat, when she called from the bedroom – that was that ended the cuppa and cakes idea for the moment!

She stood there naked, dominant, hirsute, and demanding attention.

I noticed an empty ‘Huntsman Bourbon Whiskey’ bottle on the bedside table – ‘Highly Suitable’ I remember thinking. She caught me alright… thank the Lord.

I opened my arms and clasped them around her – then did the same to her other leg.

I was thrown on the bed, and encased in her muscular body as she dived on top… ‘twas heaven!

I thought my ribs would have been broken, but didn’t care, as she rolled over and lifted me on top of her.

I licked her armpits, chest, neck, (avoiding the boils) as she turned over again, crushing my pulsing body beneath her now sweating stomach muscles.

Bliss ensued!

The planned trip to the cinema had to be delayed for another day (thankfully) as she was obviously intent and glad to remain available for more romping for the rest of the day!

My submissions that day were pitiful and pleasurable; I reached new heights of delirium in response to Grizelda’s handling of the situation and everything else she handled.

We went and collected her things from the cottage.

From that day, she stayed at my flat for the duration of her holiday… and my pleasure!

The memories of Grizelda are painful – only due to the fact that they are only memories now.

Part 20: A Nottingham Lads True Tales of Woe

I was working at the Nottingham Cooperative Society’s Co-op House on Upper Parliament Street, in the food hall, as general dogsbody, and not very popular goffer.

On my first day I was sent down to the cellars (Tunnels come caves) below the building, to lay mouse traps and rat poison, in an effort clear the place of the little mites. An order I thought a little out of the ordinary, but I followed them, collected the traps and poison, and went down into the bowels of the building to do my duty. (Little realising that the staff had set up a tape recording of eerie sounds, thinking it would be fun to scare me to death!)

I soon spotted the ‘Bush’ tape recorder after hearing the sounds it emitted, and carried on laying the traps and poison pots. By the time I’d finished, there were already some dead rats in a few of the traps.

Full of myself, I extricated a larger one from the trap, and carrying it in my outstretched hand, re-entered the store warehouse smiling and grinning, saying to I thought the mates I’d left assembling orders fro delivery, thinking I being rather droll and witty: “‘Ere you are then, dead as a dodo, we can put it in the mincer with the beef un make some money… haha…”

I stopped as soon as I realised the area shops inspector was stood directly in front of me!

I managed to get another job with Tesco.

Pat Phoenix’s Visit to Tesco

Tesco on Granby Street in Nottingham, had arranged a promotional visit from Pat Phoenix, who at the time was playing the part of the very popular feisty Elsie Tanner in Coronation Street. She was supposed to sign autographs for ten minutes, and then do a mock shop to impress the public.

It was utter pandemonium, we had earlier built a wall of Heinz soup boxes covered in colourful crepe paper, behind which we had placed a table and chair for her to sit on and greet her fans, and offer her signature to them. (With her very large body guard stood next to her)

So many emotional fans turned up, we had to get all the male staff on the shop floor, to try and control them as they all wanted to speak to her first. At one time, we all linked arms to try and stem the rush of the dear old biddies from causing physical damage to the Ms Phoenix, it was like a football match at times.

She and her bodyguard chain smoked throughout the time Pat was signing her signature for her fans. Rothman’s King Size they both smoked.

After about 40 minutes, she was able to escape the confines of the table and chair, did a very quick pretend shop, took her cheque, and left.

As she was leaving, I noticed that the soup boxes had their crepe paper coverings torn apart, and the tins were crushed and spread out on the floor during the melee. At this point, I also realised that I had blood coming from my ear-hole, and running down my white coat.

A few days later, a photographer, who had been taking pictures of the event on the day, came in, to find the staff in the photos he’s taken to sell them a print.

One of the girls (Kathleen, I remember Kathleen… sorry…) pointed out to me a particular photo; it was taken when I was in the line of staff trying to stem the flow of women, and it showed an old lady, about 5 stones and 4 foot tall, just about to push the pointed end of her rolled up umbrella into my ear-hole, in her efforts to get through to her soap opera idol!

Well at least I now know why I had to have four stitches in my lug-hole!

More Tesco Tales to follow…

Inchcock Today: Friday 1st August 2014

Friday 1st August 2014

*Cautionary Introduction by Inchcock’s psychiatrist Dr Uppopo Smyth-Robinson, MRCPsych, FRCPsych*

Friday 1^st August 2014

What a flaming night, I wus awake more than asleep… until it came time to gerrup, then I fell asleep! Cor blimey.

The cramps were ‘orrible, the nightmares every time I nodded off fer a few minutes, the angina, the piles… but hey-ho, I’m still ‘ere. (Well, I think I am… what is reality after all? – summat different to every person innit like?… is it?)

Took the bins out fer me and me neighbour – noticing how she had artistically decorated hers with maggots inside and out. I thought the bin men… sorry, I should have said Council Waste Management and Disposal Technician, would refuse to empty it – but no, he did? Nothing to do with her being a suntanned, nubile young thing that looks like a model and know it you think?

Set to work on me blogging and emails.

Gorra wash shave and brush-up, and had a walk into town. Then a hobble around town. Took some photo’s: One of a van driving down the pavement with his hazard lights on delivering?

Caught the bus home, and read a letter that I got from Age Concern- very nice detail about their ‘Age Concern Funeral Plan’ that I took out with em.

Promised a 28 day money back guarantee! Lot o’ good that’ll do me when I’ve croaked… unless they bury me alive and I get out of the grave and claim me money back! Hehehe!

When I got back to the house, it pored with rain, I observed a gang of six yobs in the opposite gateway across from me house. Four bigguns and two little uns. The rain stopped after a few minutes, but so did they. Kicking footballs and threatening passing drivers for nearly an hour.

I kept out of the way, cause they might have been the ones that mugged me last year, and now I’m in fear.

After they had gone, I updated this tosh, with the photo on the left, not a good one, but it proves they were there.

Made up some black bags of unwanted stuff for Sister Jane and Brother-in-law Pete, who will kindly sort it out for me. Phoned PEte, told him what was happening, and that the bags were ready at his convenience.

Oh ‘eck… I’ve missed me evening medications with all this hassle. Never mind, only an hour late, should be okay.

TTFN all.

Inchcock Today – Thursday 31st July 2014

Awoke around 0500hrs, and greeted another wonderful day of excitement, jubilation, hopes, dreams, adventure, hysteria, passion and happiness.

Or, if you want the real truth, depression, accidents, frustration, discomfiture, vexation, pain, chagrin, nervousness, fear, loneliness, faux pas and decay. But I wont mention them.

Gorrup and entangled wiv me blog posting graphics and creations.

When I went out to take some stuff to the bins, I noticed the Virgin Media hole in the pavement was gerrin bigger… oh dear!

Then after feedin’ the birds, on my return to the hovel, I managed to trip ‘Up’ the step to the door. I now have a very pretty scrape down me right shin, and a bruised chin. Oh, that rhymed. Tsk!

Put some cream on me wounds, and while doing so, the tube burst!

Still, it didn’t bleed much, which means me Warfarin level might be a bit low… or is that high? Never mind.

While bending to clean up the antiseptic cream wot I squirted on the floor, Arthur Itis made an appearance in me knees. (Huh, and it had been so good up until then today)

Knees too painful fer meto pick up the seeds wot I split when ups-a-daisying up the door-step wot I swear moved on its own.

Received an email from me mate in America, Andy, with a funny in it that I thought deserved graphicalisating ( I know, no such word, but I like it) a bit:

I wonder who the modelled for the original artist/photographer?

Went off to town to see if HMV had got DVD I ordered in yet. “The Big Job” Made around 1959 I think, can’t find a date on the box. Comedy with Sid James, Sylvia Syms, Dick Emery, Jim Dale and other old comedy actors. Looking forward to watching it later on next week. after a long walk around Victoria Centre looking for the store that had relocated, I found someone official and asked him where it had moved to, naturally had moved to the only part I’d not walked through looking, at the far end of here I stopped and asked the bloke.

Feet humming a bit now, despite this I had a walk around town with the intention of taking some photo’s for putting on here. I remembered to take the camera, but early this morning when I was taking some off of it to put on here, I left the flippin’ thing on and it went flat… oh what a superior nit-wit I am.

Termination of compilation of the days activities at 1610hrs. Will commence tomorrows Inchy Today from that time, providing I remember to, the BT connection does not fail again, and the old laptop doesn’t die a sad death of course.

Made a cuppa and finished this off. TTFN all…

Part 19: A Nottingham Lad’s True Tales of Woe

The Dart team’s out of season trip to Southport

There was 15 of us, all looking forward hopefully to sampling the Lancashire ales and lassies, as we climbed into the battered old AEC Regal coach – and set out for the ‘Gladstone Pub’ Darts Team Annual Outing – this year, a weekend stay at Southport.

As seemed traditional, we got lost on the way there, and our ETA of 1800hrs, was actually 2100hrs at the hotel on the seafront road.

The place was deserted, not a single person in sight, apart from our motley crew, as we exited the warmth of the bus, out into the, oh so cold wind blowing in from the sea, and we each grabbed our luggage and ran into the hotel foyer.

We were dispersed in three bedrooms, five beds in each, and were soon washed, changed, and back down to meet the others in the foyer, ready and eager for the quenching of our need for ale, as we hurriedly (it was getting late, and the pubs there closed at eleven) walked into the centre of the city, to find a pub to sample.

After my fifth pint, I think our group were playing dominoes, or trying to, things get a bit fuzzy memory-wise, and the next clear but painful recollection was of the next morning.

I awoke, and was gripped by a panic; I could not open my eyes! As I moved to find the edge of the bed, I hit my head on something solid – now I was really confused… then one of the lads said (over the cheering of the other lads) “Hang on, hang on, Christ I’m sorry Inchy, I thought it was a tube of shaving lather…”?)

It seemed that I had opened the door of the wardrobe, and got my head down with my feet sticking out the night before, and one of the lads thought it would be an amusing prank, if he covered my face in shaving lather, but in his inebriated state, he thought the tube of my toothpaste was Palmolive shaving cream, and he covered my face in it, thus I could not open my eyes this morning when it had dried like concrete!

They were now concerned for my predicament, despite their hangovers, and took me into the bathroom, and dipped my head in and out of some hot water, until the toothpaste was soft enough to be picked off in lumps, much to their amusement. They managed to take off a third of my moustache at the same time!

We all decided it would be a good idea, to go for a bracing walk along the seafront road to help clear our heads, and so in a short while there we were, fifteen of ambling along the centre of the road, shuddering in the wind, with me bringing up the rear – when I noticed the lads in front split up to either side of the road, to reveal this little dog, belting though them, only to stop at me, and decided to have a chew of my ankle, much to the merriment of the lads! I still cannot work out why this beast should run passed fourteen lads, and twenty-eight ankles, to get to mine for his breakfast?

That being the last night there, we set out to enjoy the amenities on offer at the ale providing hostelries of Southport, not at that time concerned that we had foolishly arranged for the coach to pick us up at 0500hrs in the morning!

We then entered an amusement complex; There was a massive new machine, that for 2/6d (12.5p), one could test ones skills at trying to land Concorde. There was if I remember right, controls for speed, left right, up, down, braking etc. And a crude map of London to guide you in. A read-out was produced after the game was over, with estimated damage caused in cost and casualties.

A few of the lads had a go, and really made a mess off it, nearly all of them crashing on the landing. This caused the usual gambling instinct among them to come to the fore, and about eight of us put 10/- in the kitty, to go to the lad who had the least number of casualties, we assumed none of us would actually get to land the thing! (And we were right)

I went last, feeling sure I could do no worse than the others had, they produced end figures like, Cost: £1m Casualties: Deaths 75 Injuries 102.

The map, I thought was the secret, I had to use it to guide myself near enough to any airport, (the scenario chosen for me by the machine, was that the plane had to land within so many minutes of the game starting)

I espied a ‘Greenwich sign location early in the game, and tried, even when it was taken off the map, to keep an eye out for it at all times.

As the plane descended, there at the bottom corner of the screen I could see the word Greenwich again, and moved hastily in its direction, turned, and made what I thought was a spot on landing on it!

It turned out to be Greenwich Power Station! (They tell me that even if it was the airport, the landing strips were too short for the plane to land on anyway)

So, with a read-out of Cost: £150 billion (The machine could not record anything higher) Casualties: Deaths 500,000 Injuries 901,808, I did not win the bet.

Afterwards we split into little groups, and again I lose many facts of what occurred after that, again until the morning.

With much effort and pain, we slowly got ourselves up, after the coach driver had been allowed to come up to our rooms to offer us verbal and physical encouragement for us to get up!

As we assembled a sorry looking bunch indeed, it came to light that we were short of two bodies… Clive, and Frank. It later transpired that Clive was in local nick, and Frank was in hospital with something broken, after he’d apparently in his intoxicated revelry thought it a good idea to nick a ladder and decorate Queen Victoria’s statue, with a beer filled condom, and a bottle of Mackeson. His leg was broken in two places as he lost his balance and fell to the ground. The fool!

All I had was a part-missing moustache, a bloodied ankle, and a massive headache. So compared to some of the lads, I’d done well.

That was until it came to alighting from the coach, as I missed my footing on the steps, and joined Frank with a broken leg.

Hey-ho, young and impulsive I was… nowadays I’m just old and repulsive!

Inchy Today – Wed 30th July 2014

I decided, as I haven’t been insulted or sneered at for a while, I’d call in where these antisocial facets would be guaranteed – the local Lidl.

I was in decent form to start with, checked I’d got me shoes and not slippers on, me spectacles on, me hearing aids in, me hat on, me dressings on me ‘Inch’ were secure, I’d got some money wimmie, I locked the door behind me, and checked to see if any local yobs were about before I left the flea-pit.

I hobbled down to the shop, having to take a longer route because the police had blocked off a road due to an RTC (Road Traffic Collision), just behind the New Inn where that bloke got stabbed last Wednesday.

I got onto Mansfield Road, and entered the shop. No baskets again, had to fetch one from the till area, as did other customers.

But I was in a fair mood, so said nothing, and carried on with shopping for me bits.

At the greengrocer stand, I looked at the tomatoes on offer. There was on lot of decent looking tomatoes, but there was no country of origin on them.

I ought to remind you wonderful, enigmatic, attractive readers that; I worked on the food retail business for years, and I thought they might have they disposed with the ruling that the country of origin must clearly be stated on all products nowadays?

There was this young shop assistant, nearly moving to, but I caught up with him while he stopped to chat up a bimbo while she was shopping, and asked him; (Nicely like!) “Excuse me, can you tell me where the tomatoes next to the end come from, as I thought it was a legal requirement to put the country of origin on all produce?” The reply; “Huh?” – I said never mind and carried on.

When I got to the fridges at the back of the store, I observed I was being observed by the security guard.

I couldn’t find the Krakowska meat that I like, and after only ten minutes searching for one, I found a member of staff to ask if they had any in stock. Before I’d got to mentioning the product I was after, she’s said; “If there is none there, we havva gotta any!” and was off like, just like Clivey Boy when he is with 500 yards of a boozer and his nose picks the scent of the ale, fast!

I got to the checkout, joined the queue and the till lady said; “Owston klaird funk poonds ten?” I thought she was going to give me a Hitler salute, but no. So after checking with the reading on the cash register, I gave her a fiver to pay the four pound ten bill. And got ten 1p pieces in the change!

I exited the premises, again telling myself not to go there again (Lidl), and the security guard followed me out. So I turned and walked towards him, and he went back in the shop?!?!

Now I was not in a good mood.

Limped home, opening the door, I saw laying there on the carpet, a letter from the City Homes people.

My heart leapt with joy… Have they got a home for me to go to… No! – It just told me I had been downgraded in the waiting list to classification Five, the bottom one.

Now usually, I would have sworn and cursed a bit at this, but as I lifted the nosh tray off the bin to throw the letter in, I dropped the tray with all the stuff on it…

So I cursed and swore a bit at that instead!

I’ve just read that George Osborne shops at Lidl? In this photo off the web, he isn’t shopping; he’s filling up the cob basket… and without his disposable gloves on too!

Suppose he’s got shares in them.

Now I’ve really pissed missen off!

Life eh?

TTFN all.