I’m Determined to destroy Depression!

I’m Determined to destroy Depression!

2Tue08a

I decided, in a dream, I had yesternight,
Depression, I’ll resist, beat and outfight,
I must be strong, determined, not contrite,
I’ll be honest with myself, not like a Blairite,
My approach, will-power, must be definite!
I’ll have courage, like a brave medieval Knight,
And continue to show my vigour and fight,
Although my confidence may be finite,
This misery, I will surely try to expedite,
I must give this depression, no respite,
Ridding myself of this soul-destroying plight,
Who knows if I can, I just possibly might?
Then hopefully, I’ll get some sleep tonight,
And for supper, I can have some toasted Marmite!

Created during an aberrant spell of semi-confidence.

No Brexiteers were harmed during the production of this waffle!

Coronavirus Calypso

A spur of the moment, impulse, load of drivel, created, as Inchcock woke up. He asked me to pass on his apologies, as he was temporarily in Defcon 2 mode, mentally.

5Fri007c

Remember These? Of course, the hoarders will!

Coronavirus Calypso

Going into self-isolation,
As is most of the nation,
To get the toilet rolls in?
The chances? None to thin,
Coronavirus, payment for our sin?

Tellurians, you must not bump into,
Tatterdemalion or the well-to-do,
Urges to touch, you must subdue,
Cut your hair in a basin cut hair-do,
Having sex is still under review!
But pigeons can still bill and coo?

No food in the shops,
Bread, milk, you might find a few,
You’ll have to fight and argue,
Battle with the determined queue,
Then blood and insults will spew,
The language was very blue!

You might try home delivery for food,
To sustain you and your brood,
If you do try home delivery food!
To the delivery man, do not be rude,

Self-isolation; is wrong, some folk argue,
But I’ll not be involved over this, thank-you,
HMG responses seem so impromptu,
Certainly going to cost us revenue,

Self-isolation, so many folk rue,
A bit of good news is overdue,
Confusion over what we must do,
We mustn’t shake hands too!
Is mankind’s end really in view?

Stuck at home, what do we do?
Clean shelves and dust that statue,
Pen some extra veins to your tattoo,
No food in, so no chocolate to chew,
Can’t get out to buy, so no making stew,
Your plans and orientation, gone askew!

Sit, read a book, perhaps of Fu Manchu,
Back of the fridge, mouldy Danish blue?
You’re starving now, crumbs for tea, that’ll do!
Dig around the sofa, for crisp-crumbs residue!
The nurse’s visit cancelled too,
Mind froze, stagnated, what will ensue?

Where is the spirit of World War Two?
Is it the end, will you ever again hear a cuckoo?
Is it to be, that you’ll not see another cup of tea?
Farewell, to your beloved tasty Glengettie brew?
Your mind gets depressed, whatever can you do?
Finally, you get a plan made and worked through!

Escape! Find food, and hopefully, a toilet roll too!
Your plan to go shopping, sanctioned by the Tenant’s escape crew,
How to get out though, whatever can you do?
They don you with a wig, to hide your bald head from view,
You know you may not return, but offer your neighbours, a thank-you,
Creep out, staying in the shadows, your walking stick oiled too,
Arrive at the store, but what a sight greets you…

Header7

But it’s the future, your deja vu, hitherto!

Empty shelves, fighting, greed, at Sainsbury’s too!
Little fresh food, no toilet rolls, not even a tissue!
This is now a serious issue,
You give an Achoo – but ominously, nobody blesses you!

WDP 003a

Published in Support of the Outer Peruvian Pregnant Kangaroo Appreciation Society

Where hope would once prevail

This morose rubbish was penned by Inchcock when he was at his lowest.

Having just missed a second appointment at his Dentists!

It flowed from his now even-more depressed mind easily. Too easily.

But, the old fool still posted it. Bless the poor old twit!

GC33

Where hope would once prevail

Where hope would once prevail,

Now there’s not even a contrail,

I’m  not exactly hearty & hale,

My failings, oh, I so want to wail,

My hopes have begun to pale!

Overweight, I’ll never be a Chippendale,

I believe I was born to fail,

Will my fortunes improve, my good flail?

No, more chance of finding the Holy Grail!

My good luck, I store under a fingernail,

My Accifauxpas, ever-grow in scale,

As my body does, it looks like a whale!

Whoopsidangleplops arrive, like a gale,

Worries, fretting, now no sleep to avail,

Still, it’s given me time to write this sorry sad, tale!

If anyone want to buy it, it’s for sale!

Evenin’ all!

A Little Trip To Merry Nottingham – Photographically & Poetically told

4Thu19

I arrived on Parliament Street, greeted by the smiling populace,

A cheery smile on every face,

Oh, how I love the place,

Mind you, I had my can of Mace!

4Thu19a

I called in the Poundland shop,

Shoplifters were arguing, having a strop,

I didn’t want to eavesdrop,

So I didn’t stop!

4Thu19b

I notice pedestrians crossing the road against the red lights,

But all was eerily quiet, no fights,

I bloke chucked out of Burger King, what a sight!

Another chap was as high-as-a-kite!

Then two gals started a cat-fight,

I ran away, and well, I might!

4Thu19cClumber Street, I rested, the knees were stinging and tight,

Along came two men, one on crutches, the other on a bike,

I told the biker, it wasn’t right,

Driving so close to me on a bike,

He told me to take-a-hike!

4Thu19d.

Why do folks do this, I wonder why?

Two imitation policemen stood nearby,

They said and did nowt,

Cause they have no clout,

I moved on and gave a sigh!

4Thu19ELong Row, above the Yorkshire bank,

1833, bet these were built with pride and swank,

But such architecture goes unnoticed, to be frank,

By youngsters, with acne and a look that is blank,

To them, workmanship & beauty is not worth a Franc!

4Thu19fLong Row businesses, failing so so much now,

This shop used to be Burtons food store,

Where you could buy pork, bread or a cow,

I miss it more and more,

I can still smell the meat, somehow,

Though we couldn’t afford it, we were poor!

4Thu19gAh, another pavement cyclist, for short, PC, I’ll call them,

One hand on his handlebar, texting on his phone in his hand,

He even spat out some horrible phlegm!

Some say they should be banned,

But not by the Greens or Lib-Dem!

4Thu19HA gathering of Nottinghamians resting,

Unemployed, students, and shoplifters?

The bored, the drunks, and Brexit debaters?

Look at their faces, it’s interesting,

They all glare at me, as if they hate us!

4Thu19iCity Centre, Long Row, and, the Slab Square,

Architecture by Fothergill Watson, who was the absolute best!

The man was a genius, with skill and flair!

Better than all the rest,

And, I’m only being fair!

4Thu19JQueen Street, I nearly got hit by yet another PC,

Delivering food, perhaps pizza, burgers, or a fricassee?

Maybe once again, one will run into me?

But I carry my taser, just in case you see!

 

This rubbish was wrote during an evil spell of the dizzies and shakes,

By Inchcock, while he ate his supper, of cheesy cakes.

I fank you!

Inchcockski: Searching for Sanity & Logicality – In bad Rhyme!

Gerald James Timothy Algernon Archibald Inchcock

The Nottinghamian lad knows he is losing it, big time.

Mentally and physically, getting help is hopeless,

 He gets uptight, but he’s completely harmless,

Depressed, untidy, ill and charmless,

He can’t commit suicide, he ain’t got the time,

Even his words don’t properly rhyme!

 

WDP 1Lda

Inchcock: Sadly searching for Sanity

Somewhere, in his tortured labyrinth of a brain,

Lies logic, intelligence, but he can’t find them today,

The brain is active but rarely reliable or decisive,

Also, hesitant, feeble, and the memory’s gone away,

 Some details it retains, and admires he does say,

Mostly about medications, Red Dwarf and Will Hay,

 But his desire, longing for sanity, will not go away!

 

WDP 1L

 However, his efforts, hopes and plans are derisive,

 The mentality-seeking strategies are not conducive,

At least not for 74 years… that’s including today,

He redoubled his spiritual side, and started to pray,

Again in hopes, he’d be semi-sane again, one day,

He talks to his EQ, that’s hyper-sensitive.

 

WDP 1Lcb

He wrote to an Agony Aunt, that was digressive,

 He revealed all, and thought that was impressive!

She said she couldn’t help, and she was sorry,

But why did she throw herself under a lorry?

Inchy thought that was a touch impulsive and excessive!

Regaining logicality, will he ever find a way?

Or remain an idiot, until his dying day?

Another thing, why do his wee-wees always over-spray?

 

This blog was produced without a warning disclaimer.

No claims made for any educationalistical prowess of the author.

Donations and mental assistance will be gladly accepted.

In the event of the writer snuffing it, kindly donate to the Outer Peruvian Pregnant Kangaroo Appreciation Society, Nottingham Branch. 0115 999999.

Thank You

WDPT02L

A Whoopsiedangleplop Wet-Walk in Nottingham

01a

Amidst a Thought-Storm, an idea came,

For a little ode, a bad one, oh the shame!

But Inchie had to put pen to paper and write it,

Cause he got wet and went arse-over-tit!

But he knows he is to blame,

Still scribbled it, all the same!

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

0001

A volgivagant life brings on mental strife!

A volgivagant life brings on mental strife!

WDPT06R

Formulated by Inchcock, while he was medicationalising Little Inchies Fungal Lesion

5Fri02


Thought of the Day

2020 ttJan 11

Disclaimers:

No animal life was harmed in the production of these odes.

Allergies: They do contain a nut, & can cause laughter (Maybe)

These thoughts have been veganistically prepared.

The contents of this blog discourage suicidal tendencies.

Remainers & Leavers are encouraged to enjoy.

 

Nottingham’s Street Art with badly rhyming daft comments

1Mon16

Coffee Storage Area Queen Street, Nottingham

Nottingham’s Street Art

With chronically badly rhyming, daft comments

 

1Mon23

Swann’s Yard, off Long Row,

Has it been cleaned, if so, long ago,

The rats were running, to and fro,

The smell meant I soon had to go!

 

1Mon22

Queen Street, near the L9 bus stop,

Rubbish, waste, decaying food,

Wrappers from Bird’s cake shop,

Not really art, dirty and so crude!

Use it as a ‘Don’t Litter sign’ backdrop?

 

1Mon21

Ah, low windows on which to rest your weary bum?

Street-sleepers can watch the diners eat and suck a thumb?

Artistically, it has little worth,

It’s not worth a lot, but down to earth,

The Tate might buy it, they show other scum!

 

1Mon20

The famous rock hardened Nottingham chewing gum on show,

The Council can’t get it off of the floor you know,

People are still dropping it, though!

It won’t come off, I’ve had a go!

Petrol, bleach, I even tried a Brillo,

1Mon19

Chewing gum and a proper fork too!

Likely stolen from a restaurant,

Perhaps the Foo Man Choo?

They’ll take anything they want,

These Nottingham Street Artists do!

 

1Mon18b

This is a waste bin on the pavement edge,

Around on the floor, a pastie, nub-ends, and a potato wedge,

A bit of onion, and some phlegm and spit,

I don’t like this one a little bit,

I suppose it’s been done by kids at the college?

 

1Mon18a

The entrance to a Long Row store,

The artwork here is pretty poor,

I see there is no chewing gum on the floor?

But below, you’ll see some more!

1Mon18

Roll-up nubs, chewing gum and escaping fluid,

Simple, neat, by a King Street Druid?

Or a drunken phone addicted kid?

Columbidae Columbiformes Columbimorphae Aves, made?

Pigeons, it’s not, though their phoo is the same shade!

1Mon17

1Mon16a

Back to Queen Street, where there’s real Street Art again,

My enthusiasm is beginning to wain,

Cleaning this up is such a pain,

The culprits should be slain!

Mind you, Brexit is a bigger problem and stain!

Inchcock’s wobble to Nottingham, in the rain. Wet-through, Water-logged, and Wringing-wet. Hey-Ho!

Inchcock’s wobble to Nottingham, in the rain

5Fri08

Got off the bus with some help from a stranger, walked down to town,

Galloping Horses were swirling or spinning around,

But no one riding on them, I found,

Damned shakes, I dropped the flipping camera on the ground,

Retrieved it painfully, and took some more shots from around.

5Fri09The overcharging food stalls, cooking their repast,

As Nottinghamian’s, just strolled past.

5Fri11The Nottingham Slab Square, It’s always there, It looked a right mess, to be fair!

5Fri12Off I plodded, to the Poundland Shop, 

T’was only a short little hop,

In search of drain unblocker and other codswallop!

5Fri13I entered the premises, soaking wet,

I bought too much stuff again, not to fret,

I still had a little money left yet,

I gave the helpful lady, a thank you, she is a pet,

And gave her a can of Gin & Tonic!

5Fri14Paid-up, and out into the rain again,

Arthur Itis and Anne Gyna were giving me a little pain,

Determined, to resist depression,

Mind you, I had indigestion,

And a slightly confused brain!

5Fri16On to South Parade,

Dizzy Dennis visited, unwanted,

So, progress was delayed,

He soon dissipated,

I was glad but amazed!

5Fri017I took a photo, down Exchange Walk,

Not many folks having a talk on their phone?

People all around, yet I felt so alone,

Chewing gum littered where the folks walked.

5Fri019aI hobbled, struggling with the three-wheeled trolly-guide,

Through the Exchange arcade,

And out the other side,

For these stallholders, I’m afraid,

Not much money will be made!

5Fri20King Street in the rain, showed another Council pain,

Yes, chewing gum on the pavement again!

I bet they don’t have this trouble in Bahrain,

I view ditching gum on the floor, with disdain!

5Fri22

5Fri23I crossed to the other side of Long Row,

Got under alcove-cover to take these, don’t you know,

The only permanent retailer was busy serving, on the go,

The folks in the rain, well, it’s better than snow!

5Fri24I was well wet, and a little cold,

Not good for me, now I’m getting old,

Good job I’d had my flu jab, the anticold,

Despite the rain, I had to be bold,

So I dashed, wobblingly, to the bus stop, wet and cold!

5Fri25T’was bleak on Queen Street, waiting for the L9,

5Fri26And the hands didn’t look very fine!

It didn’t look like it was mine,

But I mustn’t whine,

I mused of things like Mnemosyne,

Then took a moody picture, it came out fine!

5Fri27The bus arrived, and it brought on a smile,

It’s coming eased my cold and chagrin,

I went to get on, missed the step by a mile,

A bloke picked me and the trolley up, and helped us in,

I was alright after a while,

But this trip out, left me needing Codeine and Amoxicillin!

WDP 09L

 

A Few Words of unadulterated hogwash

A Few Words of unadulterated hogwash

WDP08L

The Neurotransmitters, are nearly as dead as a mutt,

But other things were dwelling on my mind,

I can’t get the flaming fridge door to shut!

Cut me finger opening the window, no plasters can I find,

The toilet gurgles, and the hot water tap’s kaput,

I fell over on Friday, but the paramedic was kind,

The Bus Pass? No idea where it been safely put,

Little Inch’s Fungal Lesion bleeding’s unconfined

Hello! This time it’s a toe I’ve stubbed and cut!

I’ll have to go, cause I’m all behind,

But the belly is bigger, I’ll eat another chocolate nut!

Thrown together in a fit of frustration

at the election result!