A bit of fun

The Basement Laboratory at Crowell Towers

/ Inchie / 15 Comments

Designed & Created to be funny & get a smile or two!

With this morning’s (Wed) bleeding problems…

and the computer ones, too, by the time I got around to making time to think of what to do with today’s blog; the day had almost gone. However, I was determined to get summat sorted out to publish.

So I got a graphic that I’d started long ago, of HRH Lisa and Lesser Red-Spotted Professor Billum, in their basement laboratory, and titivated it, adding some, that I think amusing bits.

I hope you like it.

The Basement Laboratory at Crowell Towers

I added myself visiting.

Hope it goes down well! 💚

Inchcock Today: Alto-Ego’s Confessions In Ode

/ Inchie / 4 Comments

Sunday 3rd April 2020

Inchcock’s Confessions In Ode

Written By Alto-Ego Inchie!

Ode to this blogger, he’s a harmless old bugger,
With an awareness of life that gets floppier,
A self-hatred that grows and gets klutzier,
And a body, getting ever fleshier and wobblier!
A memory that is no longer a memory…
A brain that adopts ideas much loonier!

A cancerous bladder, getting ever leakier!
A sex drive that gets measlier and measlier…
Dead as a dodo, really; even his memories are foggier!
Bending downs is not easy; now he’s got paunchier,
He could do with a hearing-aids amplifier…
Today, his many wee-wees were a lot splashier?

His sanity and logic are much less secure…
His cataract and glaucoma eyes, his to endure,
No signs yet of any operations, that’s for sure!
He doesn’t believe he’ll live long enough for a cure…
He’s searched to find someone he can nouriture…
But he’s given up now; why? He’s not sure…

Mind you, he’s not looking to arrive at his cloture…
That’ll have to wait a bit, his final sepulture!
For a while, at least, though, life gets squalider…
Inchcock’s never been tops or an orchestrator…
Although he was once a bus conductor…
There’s one thing that would give him pleasure!

This’s important to him… before his foreclosure,
He doesn’t want to be richer or shrewder…
But summat, that goes against his very being & culture…
Not experienced before, it will put him in rapture!
To get something right, just once – before his departure!

Part of the Inchies Make Them Laugh-In-Ode Series

Inchcock Today: Diary with Odes

/ Inchie / 8 Comments

I’d like to start with my family, friends and flatmates here at Woodthorpe Court, in Sherwood, Nottingham

Roger Rabbit, waving to Lisa & Bill ♥

Their Mother & Father are my cyber-buddies, HRH Lisa, Billum and Alan, of Fort Thomas in the US of A. Lovely Gift; A smashing clan who sent them to me out of the blue, and I have a natter with them every morning! I made a family portrait this morning…

Inchcock Today

Whoops I woke up with a whopping great jump and jerk. It was of such magnitude it moved my body mass a few inches towards the edge of the second-hand, £300, c1968, overwhelmingly-sickeningly beige coloured, tatty, uncomfortable, wobbly-recliner. A few more inches would have had me on the carpet, cursing and nursing Harold’s Haemorrhoids! Hehehe!

Of course, that was the end of any sleeping, so I lay a few seconds to work out what day and time it was and any actions or activities required… But here was the watch? No longer on my wrist?

I soon found out what I’d done with it – fourteen hours later, I found it on the floor, behind the £300, second-hand bought, c1968, nauseously beige-coloured, not-working, rusty, rickety, difficile, crumb-covered tatty recliner.

During the ablutionalisationing, I realised I had not got my watch on. “Ah, well,” I thought, “It’ll be on the ottoman!” Finished off and made a brew of Glengettie. But…

Refilling the kettle, Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley kicked off. Talk about bad timing! Harrumph! The water went all over the previously washed and dried cutlery and crockery, down the front cabinet of the sink and down my trousers, socks and slippers, and onto the kitchen floor…

It took me ages to get it sorted and dressed again. I seem to be doing this a lot more often lately. Dementia Doreen? SSS? Peripheral Pete? Cataract Kathleen? Haha! Who knows which will get the blame.

Made a fresh mug of tea and got on the computer, rather pleased to be making an early start on the blog. Ha!

I had to do other jobs and kept nipping back to see if Liberty-Global, the company with a Revenue of: 12.98 billion USD (2021), who bought out Virgin Media Internet, are even worse than the scumball BT internet was… Not that Herr Fries is bothered. Don’t I pick them!

Did the health checks, and the internet was back on. But to for long, ten minutes maybe…

Pee’d off with this already! The Iceland delivery arrived. They had substitutes plain sausages again for the unavailable microwave ones! That’s the fourth time this year, I’ve sent them back each time, but they keep subbing them.

The strawberries and tomatoes were from Morocco. The strawberries had some slime on a few, which I threw away. The mini-cherry tomatoes were substituted for vine ones and tested for taste… Bloody Hell! I’ve tasted a tomato so foul and bitter in my life! Eurgh! They hadn’t any brown cobs in stock either! All in all, a bad do! I put the crap away.

Tried the computer again. It had come back on at last. For around a half-hour, then…

Well, obviously not that much… Git!

My morning Carer called and sorted me out. It was her first call. She came in without ringing the door chime and gave me a nervous tick! Even if she shouts out when she walks in, I can’t hear her with my hearing. Still, I wasn’t using the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee-Bucket) when she came in. Hehehe!

Aha! The internet came back on… Thank you, Mr Fries. Got the post finished and sent off. Facebooking, and it happened again:

Liberty-Global has disassociated itself with Virgin Media; they do not mention that they own and fail to run it, hoping that Richard Branson will get the blame, I think?

One more effort once it came back on. Most anger-making and revenge prompting! But this time, I had to close everything down and off and reboot the box and computer.

I’ll have to give up on this; Liberty-Global Virgin Media Internet has gone off again! My language is crude at the moment. I am willing and wishing that Fries drops dead immediately. It won’t matter to me cause he can’t run the service anyway. He’s a number-cruncher, accountant, actuary, bean-counter, bookkeeper, calculator, con-man. His use of smoke and mirrors, off-shore account movements etc., are his strengths. A wanker of a banker! Indeed, he has no people-care or customer sensitivity.

I’ve lost all my heart in blogging now. I’ll get something to eat, give up until morning, and then try again to use LIBERTY-GLOBAL Virgin Media Internet. But I’m not confident… well, I am in a way – I feel sure that Fries will let things get worse… there’ll be a financial fiddle of some sort involved in the situation, I’m sure. But he is obviously trying to destroy a company, his company, that paid around $2.4 billion to buy out… why? Back-handers? Mafia? Money Shuffling & Juggling? Banking fiddle? You scratch mine – I’ll scratch yours?

Bribery and manipulation? Or just money-making savviness via greedy, devious, underhand means? Just a thought! Why is he shoving all the much-travelled money of Liberty-Global into telecom and internet companies the world over? When he obviously is incapable of providing a reliable service? A money-predatory and manipulative Con-Man supreme!

Today’s end car park inspection photograph.

Carer Valerie arrived. Just after I’d realised that I had no hot water from the taps (faucets). She was kind enough to find and write ht telephone number of the Nottingham City Homes Repairs in large letters so I could read it. I was a little nervous to ring yet if I had made a cock-up leaving a tap running or something. (The hot water was back on in the morning, Phew!) Off went Valerie taking the bags o the waste for me on her way. Thank you!

Herbert was giving it some hammer tonight; I wonder what he’s making this time. I found a picture that I’d taken last week, possibly from Thursday when I visited the foot lady at the hair salon appointment farce.

Washed and changed into the night attire, and I made up a bottle of spring water and lime juice. I did a couple for Carer Richard, who may come on Monday, and stored them in the fridge, so they will be nice and cold for him.

Hot much of a sunset again tonight, but still beautiful to me, even with the muted hue and colours.

I used the Canon camera. As for some reason, the Fuji developed a thick white line down the centre of the screen, and I could not remove it? Turned it off and then back on, but no luck; still there?

As I got down on the recliner to watch some TV, I took this snap of my legs. Not a pretty sight!

The fattiness in both legs was returning, or it might be water-retention, but I think not. I wish I knew why I felt that, but I cannot remember why now, Tsk! (Sunday morning)

Cartilage Cathy on the right and Arthur Itis on the left knee, can you see? The veins are shallower tonight, and the hairs have suddenly turned grey? The funny side of this shot was the feet not showing. Hahaha!

An Ode to an ‘Orrible Day

My signing with Virgin Media was happenstantial,
The computer… to be precise, Liberty-Global,
Ran by Mike Fries, money-mad and ignoble!
Who bought out Virgin Media, most controversial,
Liberty-Global is crap; blame is cunningly deflectable…
They keep shtum about owning Virgin Media – detestable!
So Richard Branson gets the blame, a sort of Guilt-Burial!
My hatred for Mike Fries is substantial…
Well, his hatred of customers is evidential…
His lousy internet seems to him inconsequential,
He still gets paid a fortune, and management are reverential?
The sickening signs of fiddling figures are torrential!
Although my evidence is only circumstantial…
And comes from a customer who is uninfluential,
Liberty-Global’s ever failing service makes me demential!

Morning all!

Inchcock; a bad day!

/ Inchie / 12 Comments

Regretfully, today I have got myself in a tangle with the computer, CorelDraw (What a mess I’ve got there!); and the card reader on the computer has still not been mastered to find out a way to get it to recognise the SD cards.

Add these to the ailments Duodenal Donald and Shaking Shoulder Shirley, and they have me beaten. Not to mention Cataract-Kathleen, making things nigh-on impossible for me with the CorelDraw problems. I’m depressed smidge now.

Yesterday I started a graphic for HRH Lisa and Billum. Not as detailed as I wanted it to be, but I hope they get a smile out of it! So I fumbled my way to finishing it, so I had something to blog.

I’ll keep trying to get the photos sorted; a weak effort, sorry.

Inchcock v Alto Inchie – Verbal Battle

/ Inchie / 25 Comments

I was woken with the sounds of Alto blasting in my brain, boy, was he in a pig-of-a-mood! Spurred on by an overnight lack of sleep that had got me in a foul mood, as well! Resolutely, I tried to give him some suitable magniloquence and verbiage back.

Did I succeed? What do you think?

Oy! Dog breath… yer ignorant git…

Erm… er… what?

You’ve not talked to me for days now! Why? Yo losing interest or summat? Can’t argue or question owt? Gerrin’ old? You ought to…

Hang on, hang on… What are you ranting abarght?

You, yer fubuckler, just cause your scared to death, fear of me and I always win the verbalisationing arguments? You’re a lily-livered chicken when it comes to confrontations…

Zzz!

You plastic spastic! You’ve fallen asleep on me?

Alto’s only physical damage he can cause to me came into play. He sent his famously ear-cringing gurgling sound through my head; it is loud, irritating and even painful at times… It worked, and I stirred back into imitation life…

Oh, you gurgling git! Shithead! Can’t you see how tired I am? I got had very little sleep last night…

Good! I’m considering reporting you to the Alto & ID disciplinary committee; falling asleep on an Alto? Anyway, I know you’re knackered and have bad earholes; that’s why I gurgled you! Dumbo!

Oh, dearie me… can’t we have a standard argument without the insults and nastiness? I’m sure other humans who have Altos in attendance are not always getting hassle from them…

Hahaha! No! You don’t understand the intentions of the Alto duties. The opposite of IDs. Being as much bother and bringing as much misery to your allotted human is the basic instructions given to us…

Do you actually know any other Alto’s then?

Yer… we meet up sometimes, usually, when our humans are ill in hospital or summat like that – we ain’t allowed to hassle them then, for some unknown reason…

Ah! So you don’t know it all then? Not so clever after all?

I’m clever enough to know that you have lost interest in your Alto! I must know why…

As I said, you’re not so clever then? It’s simple enough, Alto; I’m so worn out with the physical ailments and no sleep… and admit I had lost interest and was pleased when you gave me a two-day break from your bickering last week…

Rest? You think I wanted you to rest! Oh, no, it was a ploy to regain your awareness of our superiority and dominance; we have to perpetuate and spread the news of our leaders of the significant anthropomorphism, thus confusing our humans even more… diminishing the likes of you, in confidence and…

Hold your horses, you’re not going to confuse me with using big words; I am known as a bit of a sesquipedalian missen... although on this occasion you did beat me… Carry on…

It boils down to me having to keep you on tenterhooks permanently. But if yer going to find wasteful time for sleep, you are not paying me enough attention… now that’s logical innit?

Erm… Do humans need sleep, though? Surely?

Yes, yes, yes… But you are greedy! You’ve had to my knowledge, at least two hours kip last night! Wasteful, mate! You must allow your Alto to address your mind detrimentally at all times…

Oh, great! Nowt to with wot, we were on about, but how do you get nourishment to have survived so long?

Eh?

You know, like we humans need food and sleep. Don’t Altos then?

Oh, no! We get gratification and nourishment each time we get a human going, excited, angry or sobbing their hearts out. Occasionally we may take a sip of your blood… but that’s just so we can locate you in the rare event of you escaping your Alto… I’ve never lost one in over 2000 years…

Did you ever get a famous human allotted to you then?

Oh, aye! I got a chap called Hitler recently. Easy meat, I had him going mad with two years! I almost got Puking Putin; I was down to get him, but you lived too long, and I missed my chance… not that I hold anything against you for that… you overaged, decrepit, uneducated, unsocial sick-loner, ugly, stupid, little-willied, ass fetus! Still, in the land of the witless, you would be King. You’re a ninnyhammer of the highest order, a git with an iron-cross. And you, a guttersnipe, has the nerve to fall asleep when I’m working? You ought to have your testicles torn-off, hung drawn and quartered. You are not worth…

Boy’s, boys… I can stand by no longer… my sweet Angels… Such hatred and so many insults are being bandied about… Is this right? Great ID leader in the ether! Why so, my dearest children?

Erm…

Who the hell are you to get involved, ID? It’s me that’s been insulted…

Indeed, what did you, a self-proclaimed Alto of Alto’s do? Gave back insults and put-downs ten-fold, just because an ignorant human misunderstands?

Wot yo gonna do abarght it then Inchies Id? There’s nowt what you can do to change an Alto you know…

Indeed, there are several things I could actually do to create remorsefulness in you both… but that would bring me down to your level Alto and even lower if I was to lambast a pathetic human.

Erm… what er…

You’re right, Inchcock; who do you think you are to tell us what to do?

Undoubtedly, just by your two’s behaviour, I am a better, kinder, more understanding ID than you are Alto or Inchcock. I intend to have words with you to guide you along the path of righteousness, kindness and compassion… I have to teach as a female form of a spectre, gnomai, phantasm, succubae or plain ID, whichever you chose to brand me with! Through psychoanalysis, educate the part of the mind in which innate instinctive impulses and primary processes are manifest, thus releasing stress… Bear with me, pay attention, and a new opening will appear – full of pleasure and indubitably, a solution to your naughty, unnice, unpleasant ways of communicating within the shared human form will be found. And happiness will replace the bitterness and jealousy you have shared since the human was born… Now listen…

Inchies ID launched into a sleep-inducing marathon lecture for the next three hours. After that, I could no longer contact Alto-Inchy, and I fell asleep.

I hope that Alto-Inchie comes back to see me in the morning – blimey I do!

Rube Goldberg – Bill Ziegler: The Connection

/ Inchie / 11 Comments

A Rube Goldberg machine, named after American cartoonist Rube Goldberg (born July 4, 1883, San Francisco, California, U.S.—died December 7, 1970, New York, New York), is a chain reaction-type machine or a contraption intentionally designed to perform a simple task in an indirect and overly complicated way. Brilliant!.

My cyber buddy, Bill Ziegler, put me onto Rube’s work, and I found it hilarious. What a brain to turn these out! I decided to make a graphic of Bill and partner HRH Lisa, a fantastic pair of people. ♥

I decided to try and make a graphicalisation of Billum. Billum is a clever chap, scientist, scholar with mathematical tendencies, and is jolly good-natured. Cause his sense of humour is similar to mine, and I hope he likes them.

With a mock Rube Goldberg machine and added the difficult to create one, below. Adding HRH Lisa in there, of course. ♥

The one below took me several days to do cause of my cataracts. I shall have to stop making them soon; it’s too painful. But I was determined to get this one completed for Bill.

I wonder what Bill will think he’s making? Hehehe!

I love to make folks smile or laugh, as do Bill and Lisa 💙

Hope you like it, mate!

Inchcock: Ode to Old Nottingham Memories

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

Inchcock Loses the plot in this ode to Old Nottingham Memories

But he does his bestest, honest!

Nottingham has many virtues, good, bad and chronic…
Its history, of being Saxonic,
It’s people grand, pleb’s, murderers, some moronic,
Nowadays, we’ve bred more that are demonic…
Muggers, gangsters, shop lifter, a lot, schizophrenic…
A few have car insurance, and not many have a driving licence…
Younger Nottinghamians music is cacophonic…
Thousands of students, so some scientific…
We’ve had many arrested for being terroristic.

Many of them you’d think were telluric,
The job-shy, call having a cold being sick!
Many old uns like me, who remember Sputnik…
Using lard to make their spotted dick!
We’re snided out with those sarcastic…
Even more of them are vandalistic!
Gone are the days of the workaholic…
But also gone, getting polio, scabies and colic!
Hopes for our citizenry? Like a trip on the Titanic!

The tin bath dragged inside from the wall, metallic…
No bath salts, we made do with soap, carbolic!
Hot water, Ha! Boil it on the stove or fire; unhygienic!
The toilet outside at the end of the yard is unproblematic!
Mind you, in winter, I was a smidgeon unenthusiastic…
Coal-house out there, fetching wood could be traumatic,
In the dark, you could kill a rat or cat hidden – tragic!
But lazing in front of the coal fire was magic!
Until the burning ashes shot out, and the carpet got lit!

Anything to be written was in pencil or pen and ink!
We knew nowt about an uplink, hard-drive or weblink,
Mobile, cell phone, wristwatch, dentist or permalink,?
Our pleasures limited, Monopoly, maybe tiddlywink…
Swearing was minimal then, ratfink, burke or gink!
Getting the belt for devilry made us wince and squint!
I got a few lashes once, a day out…for not looking perjink!
I recall once, the lads writing on my leg splint…
Not a lot of it was spelt right; they put sinnt for sent…
But thickness and ignorance permeated wherever I went!

I tried to join a club once, ended up getting a blackballing!
My education, manners, and appearance were appalling!
My approach to girls, looking back… was bloodcurdling!
9 times out of 10, her admirers would end up brawling!
With me, the littlest, the one that kept falling & failing!
On this embarrassing subject, I’ll stop burbling!

Amongst the unknown to us was Methamphetamine,
Mind you, we’d a neighbour who’d supply whisky and gin…
I got IPA, Mackeson, Guinness, thus started drinking…
My intake, for many years, there was no curtailing…
But my love of beer was never really disabling,
Until cancer arrived, there was only one way of controlling…
I singularly went from a happy drinker to totally abstaining!
It was hard, so hard to do, I still find it appealing…
But without any help, encouragement or counselling,
I turned tea-total… smug-mode developing!

I became a keen lover of food and masticator,
My weight ballooned, and furthermore…
Got myself a duodenal ulcer…
Cancer of the bladder…
Then diabetes and nasty hernia…
Peripheral neuropathy, oh, bother!
A stroke, which left me a confused procrastinator…
Disabled, what next? Cataracts, Saccades and Glaucoma!
I was already going deaf, then bother with an incisor!

And to think, I used to be a blood-doner..,
Also, now, I do tend to stutter…
Still struggle with the wee-weeing bother,
Then I was confirmed to have Vascular Dementia…
This life has been terrible… yet also an adventure!
Oh, and the back’s developing a curvature…
I think its best to try and stay demure,
About there is no chance of a cure,
The failing eyesight is worrying me more…

Did I deserve all these ailments? That’s up for conjecture,
Is that the right word? I’ll check… Yes, no error!
Things seemed better in the days of yore, thereinbefore,
The Carers’ cost a lot, that’s for sure…
A little good luck, I could do with some more?
Dementia Doreen’s in control, I’m sure, that I can assure…
Yet at times, she rests, releases the memory-core…
If she returns and comes back to the fore,
She’s my ever-present concentration annihilator!

Sorry, I see my starting thoughts got juxtaposed…
Did my thought waves get overdiagnosed?
Is Dementia Doreen no longer comatose,
Or my incredulous logic, become indisposed?
Have I been overeating glucose,
I’ve just eaten a banana, and I’m adipose!
Would it be alright to have Marmite on toast?
The plot’s gone again – what a terrible host!.

Inchcock’s Abysmal Odeing – For Fun

Inchcock: Fun Graphics wot I Dun

/ Inchie / 7 Comments

Old and new graphics done for fun

TFZer = Troll Free Zone member

Older First

TFZer Marie ♥

TFZer Julie ♥

TFZers Winner Lillie ♥

TFZers Janet, Marie. Heather & Gladys ♥

TFZer Pattie ♥

TFZer Winner! ♥

TFZer Group Graphics

TFZers: Meritt canoeing, all the others in the background ♥

Newer Graphics

TFZer Janet BM ♥

TFZer Lona ♥

TFZers Janet A & Jillie ♥

TFZers Marie, Thomas & Gerry ♥

TFZer Pattie ♥

TFZer Thomas G

♥ TFZer Janet A, with pets! ♥

♥ TFZer Aussie Mary ♥

♥ TFZer Nancy ♥

♥ TFZer Gladys ♥ Meritt watching? Hehe!

♥ TFZer Lona ♥

Cyber-Buddies Lisa ♥ & Bill

♥ ♥ ♥

Footnote:

It’s taking longer and longer to get these graphics done. The Cataracts seem to be getting worse all the time. So I put these on while I could and hope the operations are successful and get back to having the time to make them. I shall stubbornly continue to do my bestest and refuse to give up on them. Cause I love doing them on CorelDraw and Paint. But, there may be fewer produced, and for a while after each operation – which of course, have not even been arranged yet. Another wave of Coronavirus and they may never get done and sorted. Fingers crossed! TTFNski, each.

Inchcock Today – Just a graphic wot I made

/ Inchie / 27 Comments

Billum treats Inchcocks Ailments!

Bill & HRH

Lobotomy Sorted Out The Problems

HRH Lisa, Problem Sorter Outer, Ether-Carer to Inchcock, Electrician & Nurse (and a cracking looker) was at hand throughout the operation. First Aid box at the ready. Backing up professor Billum all the way.
The electrics and life monitorings were handled by Alan.

Billum prepared for the removal of the brain. Amazingly, Inchcock felt not a single pain! He was put at rest, by HRH covering his head area in Phorpain, and giving him an iced lolly.
The kindness showed by Billum, was gobsmacking. (They actually had to smack his gob to bring him round later, when refitting the brain and reattaching his head; but that’s for part two to come later.) Billum had thought of everything beforehand, he’d been planning this procedure for over two days, in his glasshouse laboratory.
He explained that when the brain comes out, Inchcock may not notice any difference, but not to worry.

Because a false moustache, spectacles, hearing aids, a missing many teeth plastic mouth, and a BO spray would be adorned on the brain straight away; so that it would feel at home without Inchcocks mass of blubber and accoutrements surrounding it.
He even supplied mini-walking sticks, crutches, and had the foresight to keep giving the brain a clout now and then, so, as he named him, Brian the Brain would not miss Inchcocks pains from tumbles, walking into things ad the desperate pain from the overactive bladder, Brilliant!

I’m afraid this will have to be caught up with later, because Inchcock’s eyes are too bad to continue, sorry. He may have to skip a blog or two, or just put a few words on. The poor old git is not too good at the moment. The eyes and bladder are the two main reasons.

Professor Billum started with Inchcock’s worst affected area, naturally the brain, but Billum had to take it out first.

Cheers, each.

Inchcock Ode to Incongruence

/ Inchie / 5 Comments

The cause, the reasons for my permanent incongruence?
Are numerous, physical and mental… with many a covariance,
Trying to work why out is nefarious and needs diligence…
Something nowadays, that can cause mental dissidence,
Which does little for my becoming extinct self-confidence.

Although years ago,
This wasn’t so…
But, there you go…
What do I know?
More than you think, since I started going loco!

Being as deaf as a doorpost, eyesight failing makes one tense,
But other ailments to worry about… and this makes sense…
Eases the worrying; Neuropathy, toothache… hence…
You can’t worry about them all simultaneously, no chance!

Vascular Dementia Doreen helps you to feel at ease…
Back Pain Brenda, Shuddering Shoulder Shirley may tease,
Arthur Itis and Colin Cramps, bring Ohh’s Argh and Oyee’s,
Which reminds me, I still waiting for the operation on the knees?
Then the Cataracts, Saccades and Glaucoma bother to be eased?
So that proved it, the very though all of these…
I’d forgotten all about my being so obese!
Oh boy, I’m so easy to please!

Carer Richard said; Why don’t you try clairvoyance?
Not sure what the lad meant in this instance…
I’m sure I don’t know anyone called Claire Voyance,
I told him this for a laugh… but just got back annoyance!

The rare times I get to the stage of semi-confidence…
I always get a Whoopsiedangleplop as comeuppance!
Yet, I remain permanently in a state of calmness pursuance…
Without much success, I usually suffer appurtenance.

Always a bother, using the Porcelain Throne or convenience,
The fungal lesion or Haemorrhoid Harold bleed in an instant,
The evacuating product is either liquid or rock-hard… renitent?
The time and the energy that has to be spent…
Time on the throne, then cleaning up, medicating is exorbitant!
But, most of all, it’s frustrating and a damned nuisance!

Incidentally, what does it mean, incongruence?

I can’t believe in reincarnation; it’s not common sense…
It may indicate the errors in my previous life were immense!
This time, I just had to pay for it, take my punishments?
This pathetic existence might be the Lord’s chastisement?

I wonder if so, who the hell I was to deserve this life?
So full of failure, depression, no wife, and strife…
Was I Stalin, Hitler or Mao Si Tung in my previous life?
Muammar Gaddafi, Maximilien Robespierre, or Mack the Knife?
Why did I get a minuscule willy and a life of strife?
Nothing in the brain to replace the missing hard drive?
Come think of it… am I actually alive?

Hang on, I’ll check…

Yes, I’m almost sure!