Inchcock v Alto Inchie – Verbal Battle

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!

Inchcock: Thoughts on Imbecilities – In Odes

Thoughts on Imbecilities

Vascular Dementia Doreen and the Thought-Storming,
Memory-loss, mind blanks, can be mentally disturbing,
At times depressing, troubling, often gruelling…
Alto-Ego and Inchies brain, arguing, duelling…
Sometimes the mind needs a rest for refuelling,
Here are some of the traits revealed, comedic and appalling!

Arguing with Alto-Inchy…

Conflict often starts when in the wet room, ablutioning,
I’ve only one mirror; I use it for shaving in the morning…
Or with mind-blanks, sometimes, it will be in the evening,
I hate him; he’s superior, nasty and criticising!
This Alto Inchie… the other me… can be baffling…

Mayhaps I need a neurologist or Psychologist visiting?
I hear sounds from the past, traffic, songs, bugling…
Although usually, we are deep in mental brawling…
Me, the one who ends up depressed and caterwauling…
Yet occasionally, Alto-Ego, becomes less insulting?

I suppose I need some form of help, some counselling?
Yet I don’t believe anything can stop my mind from crumbling!
Physically Peripheral Neuropathy Pete can be disabling,
The Stroke ensured I shall forever be struggling…
The Cataracts, Glaucoma and ears are much more worrying…

Yet some days, incredibly, I seem to be coping?
I find that I am actually optimistic and hoping,
I can sort out bits of concern by disentangling…
The feeling guilty for my self-pity, by realising,
Others are worse off and alone too… Humbling!

Stop and Ponder…

The Thought storms may suddenly go into mothballing…
I stop in the front room – it needs cleaning and sorting…
The brain tells me I require mollycoddling…
My fears and depressions certainly need muzzling!
Priorities need arranging and some actioning!

But it’s not easy for me, detail classifying, pigeonholing,
Forgetting, misplacing, quarrelling amidst the schemozzling…
Fears, worries, flash into mind… like anchovies shoaling,
I feel my sanity at times is stumbling on its way to failing,
Do you think the NHS will do mind-surveilling?

Mentally Distorted

I see the view via photographing,
What do you see? Well, according to me…
Somewhere out there; Some folk will be contradicting,
Or a poor sod in the middle of a bankrupting…
A family, communally banqueting?
A Monopoly player cheating?
Someone undoubtedly shoplifting…
A lamb in a field might be bleating?
Or emergency workers, fire-fighting,
Drug gangs, selling, abusing…bloodletting?
A politician… bloviating!
A news reporter, reporting?
An illegal immigrant deporting?
A lucky sod having sex… luxuriating!
Someone up an alleyway, urinating?
First-time home-owners, decorating,
An old age pensioner… constipating!

A Dour Sunsetting

A hard-up family, regretting Brexiting?
A hustler, planning, hornswoggling!
A fiddling bank manager… calculating?
A mugged pensioner, capitulating…
A murderer being freed to kill again – Sickening!
A baby going through the pain of castrating?
A young couple learning about cavorting!
Another freed murderer, celebrating?
A Hari Krishna member chanting,
A water worker, chlorinating?
A Nottingham pick-pocket circulating,
A Politician: World war circumventing?
A pair of gents, cockfighting,
A Policeman, machete and gun confiscating?
Jews and Arabs coexisting?
Ah! Now I’m getting into the land of dreaming…

Bad Parking!

.The Red Van Man – lousy parking…
Parking properly, he’s not contemplating…
Maybe he has not got the ability?
If so, parking without conformity…
Blocking fire engines in an emergency?
He should get a cautioning?
Ah, now I’m remembering…
Private land! So no legal prosecuting…
I’m not surprised; at the laws failing…
They free murderers to do more killing!

Dangerous!

Look at these perfect results above, contrasting…
To yesterday, when the SYS was rising…

Oh, dearie me!

The temperature was ever more declining…
34.1°c, but I’m only witwantoning!

Angel Julia

.American Carer Julia, her kindness is unremitting,
She had another call to do, so not much nattering…
Whenever Julia calls, I find it thrilling…
When Julia leaves, it is somewhat saddening…
For she cheers me so, she’s pleasant, patient and Caring ♥

Lip Smackingly Good!

Do you like the look of the meal above, my dining?
No meat as such, but fish-sticks, without fish in?
The taste of them was breathtaking…
Not too sweet, oven chips, no frying…
And I’m not lying, the most satisfying…
Truly tasty, there’s no denying…
A treat to the taste buds… gobsmacking!
Harry Ramsdens Chip Shop style, well-worth trying!

I find things today are moral-contaminating,
Not that I’ve done much in the improving things contributing!
I’ve drifted along, weak-willed and no consolidating…
Done my bestest to be kind and temper-moderating…
Welcomed, greeted folks, by my bridge building…
Do no harm, I did to help for others, aid-orchestrating…

Now disabilities, old age, vascular dementia I’m getting…
I keep falling over, but not fainting,
Struggle with my ablutioning,
Tried not for others to be abnegating…
The eyes and ears problems get no alleviating,
Let alone actually obtain any treating!

I’m aware of Dementia Doreen; I need sanity-auditing,
My thoughts and intentions… are not completing…
Use of the brain is nowadays complicating,
My decisions, fears, desires are self-conflicting…
I do little to deserve any respect or congratulating,
The Thought-Storms are ever congregating…

The mind seems to be mentally contorting,
The physical side doesn’t stand reporting…
Even taking a wee-wee needs coercing!
From logicalness, I think I’m distancing…
Any paperwork is confusing and inconveniencing!

Memory, or lack of, mind blanks, have me cursing…
I need help, mayhaps a little nursing?…
No, perhaps some rejoicing, romancing?
I may get by with some reminiscing?
The brain has little left for downloading!

Inchcock’s Make ‘Em Laugh Series – In Odes

An Alto Ego & Inchies Id Argument

I’m leaving it up to Alto-Ego and Inchie ID to do the blog today. I may add something afterwards, but I’m suffering the dreaded, loathed DD (Dracula Depression) this morning. As annoying as this is, trying to find out why is equally disconcerting. As far as I can tell, nothings changed from last night? Humph!

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

Well, ID, can you explain summat to me?

What? I thought you were Mr Perfect?

You’ve actually got an advantage over me with this problem, Pugface!

Oh, go on then barbed-wire tongue…. let’s hear it, more sarcasm or criticism, is it?

No, no, no. I’ll explain, mate…

Mate! You just called me, mate!

Are you going to answer me or what? Just cause you’re a thick knob-end of an Ego, doesn’t mean we can’t still be pals. Let’s face it, the more we learn, the more we can pester the life out of Inchcock, innit? So we should help each other learn even more things that will irritate our host… Yes?

Go on then, your taking my Inchcock aggravating time away…

No, I’ve just popped into his pathetic brain; he’ll not be up to or responsive to any joshing, bewildering, bamboozling, or distracting this morning…

Just a cotton-picking minute ID, that’s the things we love to do…

I know, but there are some things even more potent than wot we are, and he’s…

He’s got to live a few more years, at all costs, cause if he snuffs it too soon, or even if Inchcock finds some contentment… the IDAEC (Alto-Ego-Consortium) Guidelines, Rules and Cautionary Advice 112,145,23 will come into force. I’ll end up back in the Soul Bank Vaults, for God knows how many years again! So I…

Well, that’s your advantage. I was going to talk about it mush!

Yer, wot?

If you cock-it-up, a couple of hundred years in the Soul Bank Vaults, is nothing – If I gerrit wrong, that’s it, end of this Id, altogether. We don’t get transferred to another human-host yer know! Oh, no, it’s a harsh existence for us Ids.

So? Worrya saying like? I could be in there for thousands of years. You are aware that the only hosts there are cockroaches, ants and rats, are yer?

So what’s wrong with that, then?

I won’t be as easy as host Inchcock; the cockroaches are cleverer than he is!

Hahaha! I just listened to him, you know, a while ago. He was talking to his pets! No, honestly! He really was; I’m not jesting Alto, I even think he heard them answering him, too!

No harm… he loves them, it’s a human trait yer know, or do yer? He does that every morning… Unless he’s had trouble in the Porcelain Throne, that is. There’s no problem with that…

Hogglebogwash! How long can he be in the toilet, for heaven sake?

Well, if his evacuation is one of his rock-solid ones, up to about an hour, on occasions, he’s taken longer. When his fungal lesion bleeds, yer see, he has a grossly painful job on, stopping and medicating things…

Gangleboggleisations! Get yersen in the bog; you can pester him while he’s struggling. Give him hell! Bloody heck, a perfect opportunity for giving out some pilgarlic, pooh-pooing, heckling, vilification and raillery. Hahaha! He won’t be able to concentrate on his Porcelain Throne duties at all – Hehehe! Why we could…

Come off it, you know nothing about my host, does yer? You’ve been in this monstrous wobbly-bellied, old idiot for a week now, but yer not learning owt are yer?

Oh, you are, I suppose, yer gerrin’ as thick and decrepit as Inchcock is, pal… yer on the wane, mentally…

You thick swine, on the wane mentally? What else does yer expect? You might have noticed that neither of us is human. We are ethereal, diaphanous beings, or are you not aware of this?

Watch it pug-face, or I’ll report you to the IDAEC (ID-Alto-Ego-Consortium). You know full well what I meant! I was speaking figuratively, interpretatively, metaphorically, As you are fully aware of; Thunderglobberisations! I thought we’d agreed to be social wiv each other?

Who did? Not me! I’ve not got over you lying to me last week yet… You promised if I signed the IDAEC Guidelines & Cautionary Advice Procedure Adherence 112,145,23, you’d leave this host forever… but no, you are a snotty-nosed ID, aren’t you, so superior… But you being a defrauding, backstabbing, double-crossing, untrustworthy Id that you are, should be reported, not me! Git!

I think you’ve been with this host, Inchcock, for far too long, my old fruitcake! You should just report yourself to the IDAEC as a failure. You’re catching a human beings ailments, such as dementia… No, let me continue…Testicles! If I could, I’d like to tear your head off!.

We’ve already agreed that we are both emblematical, selectively apparitional beings. So tearing my head of would be pointless, don’t you think?

I’m not so sure, Meathead, having never tried to kill anyone before, and as far as I know, no other Id before me has. Perhaps some form of transubstantiating has taken place over the years, and we have acquired the ability to tear off an Alto-Ego’s head? Hehehe!

The same goes for tearing off the head of an Id, indeed?

Ah, I see what you mean. We could, in fact, make history, be the first Id and Alto-Ego to kill each other? Or at least give it a go?

There you go again; you’ve got no morals, have you? What about your Id Oath what you took in training, eh?

Erm, I can’t remember that; it was over three thousand years ago, Dumbo!

Ha! A whippersnapper! Well, for your information, I started off as an Id…

Oh, did you, my friend?

Shut-it! I took the Id oath myself over 5,000 years ago. I seem to remember it went something like, “I shall occupy the given human body as instructed, with the intent of making the host into a big-headed, greedy, parasitic personage within the given period as prescribed by the IDAECC (ID-Alto-Ego-Consortium-College) Trainer on this day (dated). Convincing the host mentioned above that England will win the world cup again, all Politicians will become trustworthy, and America will land a human-crewed rocket with 5000 paying passengers on board on Mars, at the cost of $3.” You remember that bit, Inchie-Id?

No, and I didn’t miss any lectures or training sessions.

Anyway, it’s time I checked on Inhchcock…

No problem, I can hear him talking to his Carers.

Anyway, what was this question you had for me then? Id my old flower?

Oh, yes… I was a little concerned about why the human hosts always get drunk, stabbing or running over other hosts in their tinned transport, each New Year? And why do they welcome getting older so merrily and fire off flaming fireworks into the sky?

Ah, well, it wasn’t always like that, you know…

Tell me what used to happen in the old days Inchie, I’m confused.

Well, in days of yore, the human hosts always get drunk on mead, stab someone, and run over other hosts with the horses and stagecoaches transport, each New Year? And why do they welcome getting older so merrily and fire flaming fireworks into the sky? Then they welcomed in the new year merrily and fire flaming fireworks into the sky?

Well, I never knew that!.

Hello… Inchcocks took a tumble in the shower…

Bags, I get to annoy him first!

Rollock’s!

Me first, being the youngest, Crab-Nose!

You got that arse-about-faced as well! The old ones should get priority!

Arse-about-faced… I like it!

We’ll go together, but I get first scoffing, sneering at, chastising Inchcock?

That’s fair enough, mate, as long as you leave the laughing at and humiliating comments in?.

Done, cocker!

Great mate!

The now two best pals floated through the wall into the wet room with this. But…

Oh, Sod-It! A lot of blood; I think he might be dead?

After all that planning, and arguing too!

Take a close look, see if he’s breathing…

How does yer do that then? I’ve never tried to help a host before?

I’m not sure… erm…

It’s your fault, all that being obstreperous with me!

Clackers!

Bog-Knobs!

Well, one of us must wait around until someone finds the body…

Why?

We’ve got to report it to the IDAEC (ID-Alto-Ego) Records Dep’t…

Why are they going to make a song about it?

Someone might make a song and dance about it, but me? I’ll be back in the IDAEC (ID-Alto-Ego-Consortium) Soul Bank Vaults.

Ain’t these human hosts heartless, dying just like that!

Pigs!

Baskets!

Does yer think the Carers will find him int morning then?

I suppose so… hang on, where’s he keep the cans of plonk for the Carers?

Oh, yes, what does yer fancy mate, Vodka and lime. G & T, Pimms, Mojito, Tequila beer, Strongbow, or Rum & Coke, Id?.

Yea!

Inchies Make Them Laugh Series

TTFN