Inchy Today: Saturday 14th June 2025

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These are not in a chronological order,
But I’d like to bring back Grizelda,
See the slow death of Labour’s Starmer,
He’s more Tory than Margaret Thatcher,
Prove that Trump is getting barmier,
Putins warring, without any condemnation,
Backed by the Oligarchs conglomeration,
The West? Not even a chinwagging session,
We accept the coming desolation, perdition?

When things go wrong, I get contrarier,
And use profanity, blaspheming coprolalia,
It may be through pain or frustration,
Losing time with my blogging addiction,
Dementia Doreen, who causes me confusion,
Hysteria, delirium, drugs, intoxication?
Where do we see daily insanity & delusion?
In Governments, they turn into a dystopian,
Disheartened voters? A quattuordecillion!

A Few By-the-By Thoughts:
Whoever thought we’d stop using coal,
To save the earth? For what that is worth,
Footballers kiss when they score a goal,
Killers laugh when they are gaoled,
Judges: Life in prison commanded,
Freed in six years, hardly reprimanded,
A week later, another victim was murdered,
Eugene Brown, a killer, was then paroled,
Killed two more, a mother & son, Eduard,
Back to jail, he killed an inmate dead,
Starmer, the liar, really gets to me,
Lying like a barrister, he was one, wasn’t he,
Recalling my hatred almost abandonedly,
Maybe he’ll die of a heart attack, hopefully,
And soon would be nice, preferably,
But that won’t get back what he stole from me,
My Pensioner’s Winter Fuel payout, greedily,
But I’ll not seek revenge, almost certainly…
But, if I can repair my 303…

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04:40hrs, I leapt off of the bed, jumping over the incommodious, uncomfortable, cumbrous, toe-curling, cringe-making, second or third-hand bought from the Oxfam Charity shop, Cathleen-Catheter-Tube-Crushing, hurtful for Harold’s Haemorrhoids, germ-ridden, Horrendously grungy, uncomfortable, not-working recliner, did a double-flip, landing on my right foot, and burst into five-minutes of yodelling.
Oh, alright then…
The danged alarm went off at 04:40hrs. I anathematised, using curse words, in retaliation for the alarm going off, especially as I could not remember setting it last night. I thought I’d forgotten how to set the alarm many months ago, so I tried and failed. I do recall that because I got the voice message sign come up and can’t find out how to clear it. That is still on the screen; it has been there for over a year now. Why would I set it for this time, anyway?
I lost the plot there; where was I? Ah, getting up.
I got the nocturnal catheter pouch off the day bag. A perfect colour this morning. Later confirmed by the Carer as 3.5.
The acidy niggling at being woken up feeling slowly faded. As I was up, I’d start my daily tasks.

I started with a Porcelain Throne visit. A complete reversal this time. Super messy, nae, Mega-Messy. No chance of any crosswording this morning. By the time I had cleaned myself and the porcelain, the visit had cost me half an hour.

Still, no rush was there. I shaved first. Not a single cut! Body washed. The teeth & throat gargled. The nasal clearout was done. Then I  olive-oiled both ear-holes. Barrier-creamed areas that I could reach. Adjusted the tube-pulling catheter contraption straps and refitted them, and they were a lot less painful. 
Then, I got dressed, put the kettle on for a brew of Glengettie tea, and changed the calendar clock. Next, I started the Health Check routine. 
Much better returns again today, morning and evening ones in Normal High status.
The Blood returns were both acceptable, too!

I got the computer on, and Carer Manpreet arrived.
Medications were sorted, and then she barrier-creamed Haemorrhoid Harold’s bleeding rear-end and my male breasts. Showed her where the waste bin disposal chute was in the foyer. Said our farewells.

I got started on the blogging update and stuck with it despite the interruptions and my confusion about where I was and what I was doing before them.
All welcome, just the same.
I recall thinking that a seizure or seizures may be coming on. @ve had very few lately. I remember the two-hour out-of-it spell last week when I did nothing. Well, the current confusion felt similar. I took a snap of the view from the kitchen.

Carer Mirza came just after 13:00 hours for a quick checking call; he liked my Ode. Hehe! After he’d gone, things kicked off. First, Anne Gyna came on starting in the neck area, as she often does before a big stroke, and I thought, ‘Am I going to get one?’
I did.
I think the intercom sound (Carer Mizra arriving) brought me back. It’d have been approximately 17:25 hours that I’d been out of it for about four hours. I’d done nothing. The catheter bag had filled and was painful. When the Carer came in, he noticed that the blog screen was the same as when he had left.
The disorientation had my mind all over the place.

The after-effects were so different, and four hours might be the longest one I’ve ever had. I was trying to work out what had happened and why it was so different when Carer Manpreet arrived. Memories of this visit are bare.

The puffer clouds (or whatever they are named) caught my attention.

Carer Manpreet made the last call of the day, and I was in a much clearer state of mind. After she’d issued the medications, we had a little chat. We went into the kitchen to check the taps, etc. The rain was falling as the sun went down lower. I was going to take photos but decided against it because the sun was bright and might affect my eyes’ health due to My Glaucoma. Carer Manpreet kindly took these shots from the kitchenette window, capturing both the rain and the sun for me. She also sneaked this shot on the left here, of yours truly, as I was prepping the meal for cooking. Kind of her.

The meal turned out decent. Last of the tasteless bread, only tried one slice, binned the rest. Skin on chips, sausages, last of the raw peas, and last of the beef tomatoes.

I was lucky enough to get the pots washed and settled to watch TV before the mini-seizures started.
I seemed to be having them when the adverts went off, missing so much that I gave up and clambered into bed with the nocturnal pouch. Hehe! 

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Sweet Dreams, rest & Peace! 🤎
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Inchy: Wednesday 14th May 2025

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First time in Parliament? Expect irregularities,
Want to accustomise? First, you should acclimatise…
Be the awarest, awesomest, & awfullest,
Knowing your foe’s weaknesses can only be wise,
Also, consider if you really do realise…
You need to know your foe’s atmospherics,
Beware the ethereal, but listen to their fallacies,
It’s essential to avoid verbal catch-22s,
Ignore the incompatibilities, self-contradictions,
Their abnormalities and ambiguities…
Lies, debasements, and talking contradictorily,
They use these cons daily, customarily,
Use reverse psychology on Keir’s bootlickers,
Digressions and deviancies are expectednesses!
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Protect yourself, avoid the moral shanghaier,
You can’t miss him, the PM, Keir Starmer,
To gain faith, become a backhander…
He likes Arsenal, cash and things ocular,
Look left, right, you’ll see a thimblerigger,
Starmer’s lies shoot out sort of spicular,
Just sit there looking nowhere in particular,
You’ll be surrounded by psychobabblers,
You’ll be increasing your cash in your coffers,
Your unchecked expenses for acupuncture…
Toilet rolls, lipstick, maybe garden furniture,
Computer… owt to increase your filthy lucre,
If, by chance, you got in under Labour,
Keir will let you catch hylomania!
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Manky day.
6 stitches.
CorelDraw charged me £345 + VAT for the new version. Why can’t I get any help with these things?
I loaded CorelDraw—and it crashed! I can’t save or export anything. I took eight photographs and doctored them before discovering this wayward glitch. They are gone forever.

I wish I was.

Two phone calls from the surgery, but I only understood one of them.

The laundry room dryer was packed up. Joe, on his way, put them in a different dryer. He had to go down to collect them, and I took a tumble, bending down in the dryer and picking up socks. I think I dropped more socks than there were in the drying. I guess I’ve become an addicted sock-dropper?

 My leg growths were bleeding when I took an earlier tumble while sorting out the clothes not needed in the junk room.

Broken-hearted, what a bloody day!

I finally got some food at 22:00 hrs. I can’t use or publish any more graphics or photographs, but I have some old ones I might use. I’m fed up with the mangled, broken, toothache-ridden back teeth.

Lower than I’ve felt for years now.

More medical callers, and a food order tomorrow. But I’ll try my best to get CorelDraw working. Or, I’ll find time to sort out a ploy to get around the problem. Possibly a smidge of blind hope?

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TTFN
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