Integrative Inchy Thurs, 18th March 2021 Photos and Rhymes – Lockdown Escape!

INCHCOCK TODAY

Thursday 18th March 2021

Mayanmar (Burmese): ကြာသပတေးနေ့ 18 မတ်လ 2021

Health Checks

4Thu08

Escape From Lockdown

4Thu09.

Out through the lobby, on the ground floor,

Decorations? it could do with some more,

It’s not exactly, haute couture,

Off I went, in search of a natter for sure,

I suppose I’ll spend a lot, and come back poorer?

Get some food, that’s epicure!

Visited the Warden Julie, then I caught the bus,

Gossip at the bus stop, that gave me a rush,

To town and into Wilko, the staff were peed-off and deamur.

4Thu19c

Getting out was wearying, but grand!

But I forgot to buy a new toothbrush!

On to Poundland, a barren shelves, empty place,

I took my time searching, it was not a race,

Wandered around limping at a steady pace,

Many items I could not trace,

The basket filled up at a worrying pace!

I was glad to get out of the place!

4Thu11.

I limped to the Bargain Buys store,

To buy even more,

Saw my first Escooters, Cor!

Later on I see many more, as many as a score!

I went in the shop, empty shelves were less,

But items were dearer in there, I must stress!

Lovely lady on the till; I paid my bill!

4Thu12

Out to Trinity Square,

Even less tellurians around there!

Starving pigeons, came down,

All I could do was apologise and frown,

Poor things, it isn’t fair!

4Thu13

Down Kings Walk, nobody there,

To chat with, on my way to the Slab Square,

And happened, I have to share…

4Thu14

My first Pavement Cyclist, of the day,

He came from behind me,

I shouted out; ‘Hey!’

He just went on his way,

His approach I did not see,

The Git!

4Thu20

On King Street, more Escooters I did see,

I5 mph they can do, so they say,

But they park them anywhere, in the way!

Faster than disabled scooters, how I pray…

The disabled don’t get in their way!

I saw them on pavements and carriageway,

Footpaths, even in a shop doorway,

Still it’s summat that adults and kids can play!

4Thu15.

I hobbled, struggling with the overloaded trolley,

To Queen Street, having spent too much lolly,

getting everything on the bus, was a melee,

Cartilage Cathy, was getting painful, I must say!

4Thu16.

 I had to hold onto the trolly, every inch of the way,

Knowing Colin Cramps would later make me pay!

Later in the day,

I limped back to the block and flat, with bravery!

Cathy Cartilage and Colin Cramps bad, and feeling bladdery!

4Thu17.

Sorted out the purchases from the painful shopping spree,

The Wilko bag first, toothpaste, cleaners for me,

Oh, and anti-diahorrea capsule I see,

I got one them straight away!

4Thu18

Then the fortune spent at the Poundland store,

I couldn’t have carried any more!

Medications, to make me feel less sore,

Gonna use the Chilli & Salt tonight for sure,

Baked beans as well, I saw!

4Thu19

Then the Bargain shop bag was sorted,

Nothing exciting to be reported,

As I did this, Cathy Cartilage became detorted,

And twinges from Colin Cramps contorted!

IMG_6811

The baked beans and chilli seasoning went down very well.

The innards rumbled, oh, hell!

Trotsky Terence might be building as well?

Washed stripped, and as to can tell,

Into the recliner, I fell,

IMG_6816

One fat leg, one thin, one hard the other soft and weak,

Colin Cramps kicked off, Phorpained, enough for a week!

Repeated this several times, I felt overmeek,

Colin continued his hassle,

The chances of sleep, were rather bleak,

To our saviour, I did speak,

His reply to me, was all Greek,

Colin Cramps continued, painfully he did wreak,

For painlessness I did beseech, and seek,

When I moved, the cartilage did squeak,

I was aching tired and weak,

WDP A01c

Yet contented, so to speak!

I passed involuntary wind, and had a keek!

Inchie’s Lockdown Escape Advice (To four holiday locations in a day) Oh, Yes!

Can one cope with the lockdown, and still get vacationing done?

The piccies and odes below, show how Inchcock managed this fete, feet, feat!

I started my wondering, my holiday,

The junk room I was in, so I did stay,

Watched video, although no BluRay,

I viewed episodes, of Red Dwarf and Stingray,

Had nibble of yoghourt, strawberry,

By gum it was nice, to escape as they say!

My next vacation, to the kitchen, it was untidy,

Washed my socks and blue beret,

I was content, not uptight or snidey,

In fact, I was moving well, not torpidly,

I was relaxed, my mind working unhurriedly,

So I left the messy scullery,

Then went on a tour of the balcony!

The windows let in the ice-like rain,

Leaving me wet, cold and  unhappy again,

Although stubbing my toe was a pain,

But this trip out wasn’t mundane,

The bleeding left me with a bloodstain,

My slippers’ll have to be cleaned again,

But my sense of humour I did retain,

Porcelain Throne, needed, that I must not retain,

I hope it passes easily and is not a painful strain!

My most used and popular room of them all,

A place where I’ve had many a fall,

Accifaupas, Whoopsiedangleplops I have in there,

Well above my fair-share,

The wet room, always something to hurt, scare or enthral

Good stuff too, to be fair,

Sometimes on the Throne, I see passings in freefall,

Others, with blockages, nothing moves, at all,

Yes, the seat seems to get heavy wear,

At times in there, there’s little fresh air,

Bleach & disinfectant I do share,

It’s a losing battle, but do I care?

Sometimes, I think I must be bilingual,

Frustrated, my language can be, erm… individual,

Naughty words used, I do declare,

When the flush doesn’t work, despair!

No wonder I’ve got no hair!

Then there’s the Sock-Glide in there,

Gives me many a nightmare,

It nips, pinches finger-ends, traps your finger hair,

Blood flows using it’s unfair,

It drives me, nearly nuclear…

””””””””””””

I had planned to visit the ground floor,

But the situation down there was desperate for sure,

Trying to find a way out, I stubbed my toe,

Perhaps later, I’ll give it another go?

Still, I mustn’t complain, though!

Written on the spur of the moment, I apologise!

Inchcocks Escape to town No.5 – Wed 16th Dec 20: Oh, dearie me!

Out into the Drizzle

I arrived in town with aches and pains from the bus trip, I was already sorry I’d escaped! The bus ride was a battle between me keeping the trolley-guide from running away every time we took a corner, jammed the anchors on, went downhill, and my falling out of the seat! Harolds Haemorrhoids were stinging! I called in the Wilko store to get some of the Laundry freshener, which I did. I came out, with three of the granules, chocolate brazils, peanuts and a bottle of disinfectant.

I left and hobbled to the Poundland Shop, where I got carried away and frustrated. They had no pies, Dettol or filled BLT sarnies. After a physical battle with other shoppers breathing down my neck cause I was not moving fast enough, people running in front of me in the queue, I paid with the card at the checkout for the: Toffiffee box, Frazzles, White waste bags, Perle De Perle lemon desserts, Ginsters pasties, Microfibre cleaning cloths, can of stewed steak, Oxo cubes, Mint and lemon disinfectant, (Good for the overnight emergency grey wee-wee bucket, you know!) and a packet of Senna tablets.

Out in the drizzle, passing all the jolly, happy, sociable, kind, understanding, smiling, sweet-natured Nottinghamians, merrily going about their shoplifting and pickpocketing activities. Avoiding the pavement cyclists was risky!

Along Upper Parliament Street, and down King Street towards the Market Square. The wind was getting up, I was struggling controlling the three-wheeler guide, and getting the odd shower from the buses as they pulled up from the puddles. The toenails joined the piles in giving me some tender stinging as I limped down the hill.

I stopped at the bottom of Long Row opposite the tree, and took the time to just glance around, (in my Sherlock Holmesian Mode, here!), to access the mood of the Nottingham plebeians. The masks were being worn by, I’d estimate, 60% of the Nottingham great unwashed, Students, muggers etc., but I got the view that the masses, were not too content with life, but, who can blame them?

I limped across the Slab Square. I’d decided to go to the other Poundland Store on Wheeler Gate, in search of some Dettol disinfectant, and BLT sarnies. A sense of doom and gloom came over me as I crossed over, starving pigeons came down to me when I stopped a moment to try and wriggle the keet to free the toenails that had got tangled in the sock. They must have thought I was going have summat to eat, and hoped a few crumbs would fall to the floor?

Long Row looked terribly sad. Temporary and permanently closed stores everywhere, a desperate pigeon seeking fodder of some sort, and few Nottinghamians about! I got in the Poundland and had another struggle to get around, the feet and toes were harrowing painful now. I cheered a smidge when I found some Dettol lavender disinfectant on sale and got three bottles. As I meandered about I added, two part-baked baguettes, pork pie, a BLT sarnie, The wobbles came on when I got to the self-serve tills, I was embarrassed and in a pickle.

A young lady helped me out and picked up the dropped items and out them through for me. She was busy and kept nipping off to help others, and I started to all out of the shop with the trolley and bags hanging all over it, and the girl chased after me… I had not paid! Red-faced (it probably showed through the face-mask!) I returned and used the card…

Oh, heck! The machine would not take the card! I went into Panic-Mode. The young lady tried to calm me down, but all sorts of things were going through my mind, embarrassment being the biggest! I fumble around and found enough cash to pay, the lady was very calm about it. I thanked her and dug out a can from the trolley, of Vodka mix and gave it to her. When I got outside, I calmed down a bit, as I realised I’d used the card earlier at the other store, so the bak might have been being cautious, in case the card had been stolen and used?

I got to the slab square and noticed the large number of crows that were about. Someone had dropped some crumbs whatever, and the crows dived down attacking the pigeons? I had a good while before the bus was due, so I walked around the Council House and back along Long Row on the other side, to King Street. 

The Primark Store had bouncers and staff controlling the shoplifting customers as they queued up to do some pilfering. I don’t know how the stop stays in business. I rarely go in nowadays, its a large store with escalators and stairs, so I can’t go shopping there anymore anyway. But the times in the past I’ve seen kleptomaniacs and pickpockets at work when I did shop there, was phenomenal.

As I turned up King Street to go to the bus stop, the PAvement Cyclist git it blue, came withing inched of hitting me, and seemed totally unaware of it. I hoped my taking this photo might trigger him to ask me why I was photographing him, as he chatted to a fellow food deliverer. Then I could have told him! But, no!

The three Christian singers were out again further up the road, near the Brian Clough statue, its called speakers corner. They or one or more of them are regular attenders. The chap on the right with the guitar started this singing to the Lord off first. I’ve never seen him in long trousers, whatever the weather is like?

I got up to the bus stop and took this snap as I arrived there, it is sadly, indicative of the mood of the City Centre today. Drab! I caught a number 40 bus back home, glad I did, it is much quicker than the L9.

I was tired, in pain, mangled toenails, Duodenal Donald starting to kick-off, depressed, embarrassed, and oh, so keen and ready for fodder and sleep!

Inchcock’s Escape from Lock-down, No.7, to town. Pictographically

Nervously, I departed, my beloved Woodthorpe Court,

Wondering, if I really ought,

But off I poddled, my expectancies at nought,

Taking my quandaries, feeling relatively taut,

My nerves on edge and tension straught!

The bus-ride was painful and tense, oh, golly!

Feet under the wheels as brakes,

As I sat holding the trolley,

Then I got the nervous shakes,

Sure I would overspend my lolly!

Got to town, and nearly got ran over,

Cold, I wished I’d put on an extra pullover,

A van nearly hit me, moreover,

I swore at the man to show I was no pushover!

I made my way to the Poundsaver store,

Searching for milk tubs, Frazzles and more,

The knee gave way, and I ended up on the floor,

Some ladies, got me up, Gawd I was sore,

They had milk, but I got Frazzles & more,

Paid and left, with a bank balance more, poor!

I had a walk around the City Centre,

Limping now, I felt even ancienter,

The coffee shops looked full, but I’m not a frequenter,

Then one of the Pavement cyclist’s flew by,

If I could, I’d have given him a smack in the eye!

I never saw a policeman. I wonder why?

It looked like rain in the sky,

So I went inside, to keep myself dry!

The Exchange arcade, it was barren of folk,

So many retailers, closed-down, a pig-in-a poke,

Rent £78,000 per annum, it’s no joke,

Service Charge £17,144, what lady or bloke,

Who can afford this? No wonder they’ve gone broke!

The drizzle hadn’t come, so out I went,

Some time in Slab Square, I spent,

Street sleepers, yobboes, arguing, but no police sent,

My frustrations I wanted to vent,

The knee hurting, my money spent,

Getting home to Codeines was my intent!

To the Queen Street bus-stop,

Struggling with my purchases from the shop,

On to the L9 bus I did hop,

Well, struggled, and into the seat did flop,

I was so glad when we got to the Winwood Heights stop!

I alighted the bus, well, fell off of it,

I did feel a right twit!

No injuries, I felt tired, but quite fit,

Off to Woodthorpe Court, I did flit!

Not a soul in sight, for a talk,

So I struggled along Chestnut Walk,

No much thinking en route, the brain had lost its torque!

Into the decorative, welcoming lobby, I did walk!

I tooketh a photo, getting into the lift,

Can’t be accused today, of being a spendthrift!

I’d bought some pressies and a Christmas gift,

I was feeling proud, not peeved or tift,

For once, my thoughts were not all adrift,

There weren’t any at all if you get my drift?

I’d seen folk arguing, and one shoplift,

And yet, I didn’t feel in the slightest miffed!

Frazzled, I’m glad to say – Yes! Hehehe!

Inchock’s 4th Escape from the lockdown – to town! Pictorially presented!

Inchock’s 4th Escape from the lockdown – to town!

This woz rote by Inchy’s alter ego – Hehehe!

The following, pictorials and odes, were created in support of the Depressed Nottinghamian At-Risk High-Rise Flat-Dwelling Prisoners Support Group. Donations gladly accepted.

Having made his escape bid plans again. He clandestinely crept to the lifts, falling over his three-wheeked walker-Guide, waited for the regulation Winwood Heights twenty minutes for a lift, and got down in time to miss the bus.

He waited patiently, for the next bus, but this proved something of a benefit for the old git. Not many folks about, but he still managed to corner one poor chap, and hastened to bore him to death verbally! The man wisely moved away.

And Inchcock, being instantly bored himself now, went into one his Sherlock Holmesian modes. Someone had been blowing their nose in the bus shelter, and stuffing the tissue under the seating?

He caught the bus and got out his crossword puzzles, but the driver, obviously a stock-car racing fan, nearly had Inchy out if his seat a few times en route to Nottingham City centre. Trying to hold onto his three wheeler, took some effort.

The old chap went itn the Pondland shop on Lower Parliament Street, and despite his painful and feet, enjoyed his hobble around the store, coming out with many items he didn’t need or want, Tsk!

He got to the checkout, and got himself in a right pickle and state of embarrassment at the self-serve checkout! The lady monitoring the tills, was greatly unimpressed with his continual dropping of things and farting about trying to retrieve them.

But did not offer to help, although she shared some sneerings, of hate, derision, scornfulness and causticness with him. He came out redfaced and £20 lighter. And took these three shots of the Milton Street junction.

Where he went into the Bargain Shop. A terrible experience! No one talking, empty shelves etc. But, he still spent over £21, mostly on Christmas treats for his family of friend in Woodthorpe Court.

He was struggling now, the three-wheeler trolley-bag full, and three carrier bags hanging on the handles, would make progress awkward for him. At least he remembered to but sone of the dar clothing cleaner. He set off on a limp towards the Slab Square.

On his hobble along Milton Street to Upper Parliament Street, he noticed the Nottionghamian pedestrians crossing the road against the lights again, but this is a usual, regular occurrence. He adjusted thos spectacles.

Which was a mistake, as he turned onto Upper Parliament Street, the old fart of a fool unthinkingly took the spectacles off to clean them.

They got caught in the facemask!

He crossed over the road, and down King Street. Near the bus stops, a chap dressed like the Beatles used to, with plaited hair hanging below his shoulders, stopped him and asked for ‘a couple of quid for a coffee’. As he eyed up the bags!

Inchy just said, ‘No!’ and carried in hobbling down the hill, turning to keep an aye on the youth as he did, to make sure he wasn’t following. Getting to the Slab Square, Inchy gor out his camera for a snapping away session.

He saw the little crowd and paparazzi outside the Council House steps, he went back into Sherlock Holmesian mode, and took a close up[ phot of whoever was on the steps. This person came by. Inchy got a decent shot of his/her head.

Inch repositioned himelf a bit closer, and waited for the right moment to get a view of what was going on. Nice zoomed-in photo for once. Asssumed to be the Sheriffess or Mayoress of Nottingham? Again, not single Policeman in sight today.

The tatterdemalion, dour, malagrugrous, weary, tellurian, dangerous populace of Nottingham, were showing a bit of itnerest, at least. Not many of them had face-masks on, but it isn’t law yet to wear them outsdoors yet, methinks.

The lad poddled his way wit hdifficulty up Queen Street to get to his bus stop, and caught a number 40 back home, to his never-restfull, beloved, always something to worry about, four years being upgraded and not finished yet, Winwood Heights.

He was the only passenger when the bus moved off from the terminus. Pondering on should he get out the crossword or not; one look at the mass of bags on the trolley, and the book being at the bottom, he decided against it!

The first passenger to get on the bus, was Face-Maskless.

The second one, had his mask under his chin.

A lady got on, and she had no mask on!

As the chin-mask wearing man got up tp get off, he gave Inchy a cautionary scowl, that was a bit threatening. As the bus progressed along St Anns Well Road, it passed the Health Centre where Inchy has to go for his bladder-scan.

This is St. Anns Valley Centre, 2 Livingstone Road, Nottingham NG3 3GG.

Events over his last two visits there, do not proffer the least bit of encouragement or confidence in Inchy.

The record, as Inchy explains:

  • February: Went to get the feet done, and they said come back later, we’ll have to lool at your health record.
  • March: They refused to do my feet, cause the Warfarin level was too high..
  • July: They refused to tend to my feet, because I’d just had the stroke.
  • August: Refused again, cause of my having been diagnosed with diabetes.
  • September: The did cut my nails, but said they will not be able to so in future. I have to go private in future.

Poor old sod!

He arrived back at his Woodthorpe Court, along with the mysterious wonders of, the Ghosts, Hobgoblins, Boll-Weevils, Aliens, Gremlins, Karakia-cursing entities, Hallucinations and Kehuas. Materialisations, Poltergeist, Lemures, Wairuas, Manifestations that permeate, pass through the pores and interstices of space, through the time-continuum. Usually, without rupture or displacement within the building. To cause havoc, fear and frustration, as they dislodge time itself, in their aspirations and skulduggery, to complete their given by Satan mission; ‘To annoy and scare the bejesus out of, and the pants off of the old energumenist, Inchcock’.

Thank you.