Inchie: Sunday 10th May 2026 – Election Reviews

In Memory of Kiers Barrister days
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Starmer’s “Giftgate” Scandals:
Clothing & Personal Support (Waheed Alli): £16,200 for “work clothing” and £2,485 for multiple pairs of glasses.

Accommodation (Waheed Alli): Over £20,000 for use of a London flat during the election campaign.
Football Hospitality:
Over £12,000 from the Premier League and tickets from clubs including Arsenal, Manchester City, and Tottenham.
Concert Tickets:
Four tickets with hospitality to see Taylor Swift at Wembley, valued at £4,000, gifted by the Premier League. But why?
Holidays:
A four-day family holiday to a Welsh beauty spot, valued at £4,500, Crownhawk Properties.
Racecourse & More:
Four box tickets for Epsom Downs racecourse valued at £3,716. Following the controversy, Starmer paid back costs for: Four Taylor Swift tickets (Universal Music Group, £2,800). Two tickets for the Euros Final (FA, £598).Four tickets to Doncaster Races (Arena Racing Corporation, £1,939).

Clothing rental and styling for his wife:
(Edeline Lee, £839). Note: This list is based on declared register of interests and reporting from September/October 2024.
Keir Starmer’s freebies:
Everything you need to know – Sky News Sept 2024 — Football tickets The Premier League is one of the biggest donors of hospitality, and Sir Keir – a renowned Arsenal fan – has received from sky.com. Plus one donation valued at £8,750 per game.
Keir Starmer declares more freebies than any other MP, 18 Sept 2024 — Catherine Neilan. Political Editor. Joe White. Senior Data Scientist. Keir Starmer has declared more than £120,000 worth of freebies: Starmer’s £120,000 in tickets and gifts.
Winter Fuel Payment Cuts:
The government’s decision to restrict the Winter Fuel Allowance for millions of pensioners caused significant backlash.
Policy U-Turns and Broken Pledges:
Critics often highlight his abandonment of earlier leadership pledges, such as the £28bn green investment plan, his reversal on tuition fees, and his support for nationalisation, which has led to multiple claims of dishonesty.
Economic Strategy:
The retention of the two-child benefit cap and accusations of promoting an “austerity” agenda rather than investment were criticised.
Handling of the Gaza Conflict:
His stance on Israel’s rights in the Gaza conflict was criticised as supporting “collective punishment,” sparking party dissent.
Ongoing Controversy:
The issue has been described by critics as a “two-tier” standard, following his past criticism of his predecessors’ expenses and perks.
No Respect:
Under his leadership, Jeremy Corbyn was expelled from the party. Labour made significant gains in the 2023 and 2024 local elections and won a landslide victory in the 2024 general election. After Starmer became Prime Minister, Sunak succeeded him as Leader of the Opposition.
Why is Starmer a millionaire?
Sir Keir Starmer’s wealth stems from a high-earning legal career as a leading human rights barrister and Director of Public Prosecutions (DPP), combined with property investments, capital gains, and parliamentary salaries. While some reports suggest a high net worth through property, he has disclosed that his income is primarily from salary and investments.
Starmer paying back £6,000 of bungs:
Now that he’s been caught out. This man is our Prime Minister? “Certainly not a man of integrity!”
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What took him so long to come out with a new lie?
Nothing new here then?

Not when you consider his past cock-ups from
The Rt Hon Sir Keir Starmer KCB KC MP TIT.

During his speech at the Labour Party conference on September 24, 2024, Prime Minister Keir Starmer mistakenly said he was calling for the “return of the sausages” instead of the “return of the hostages” while discussing the conflict in Gaza. The gaffe occurred during a speech about a ceasefire and the release of Israeli hostages held by Hamas.
Labour ministers, MPs and officials have expressed bafflement at the appearance of two veteran Labour figures. While both are respected by Labour MPs, their appointments have caused confusion about how figures from Labour’s past signify the change the prime minister has promised.
One normally loyal minister told the BBC: “It’s a joke. No question bringing these two old Labourites back is the answer.” A Labour MP said: “Not sure voters in Wigan, Wandsworth, Salford or Sunderland voted for Reform because they thought we needed more advisers from a different era of Labour politics. I think this shows that Keir doesn’t even understand the problem, never mind the solution.” And a former Labour adviser said: “Is his plan to combat the notion that he has no ideas, to just double down on that and bring in a load of other people to come up with ideas?”
Discontent over the election results is also spilling into the open, with up to 30 Labour MPs publicly calling for Sir Keir to resign or to set out the process for an orderly transition to new leadership.
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STARMERish JOKES & ONE-LINERS
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Starmer reads terms and conditions for fun.
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Keir doesn’t wing it. He drafts it.
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He doesn’t gossip. He verifies sources.
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Starmer proofreads text messages.
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Calm voice, strong punchline, lies a lot.
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Any Concerns, and he U-Turns…
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Sir Keir-ious mode activated.
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He edits memes for clarity.
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Calm, clueless & calculating.
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Barrister-like ace liar by omission.
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He’s unawfully, awfully legendary.
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He irons his manifesto & forgets it.
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Calm, commanding, & surreptitious.
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Keir Starmer answers questions so carefully that even Google asks him for clarification.
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When he takes a stance, it comes with a disclaimer.
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Doesn’t shout in debates; he just disagrees louder.
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He never loses control. But occasionally, the point.
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He debates like he’s billing by the hour.
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His opinions come with footnotes.
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Starmer’s humou
r? Under investigation.
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His questions come with subpoenas of sarcasm.
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His hairstyle is more stable than the economy.
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Keir Starmer tried his best to write a joke about the law, but it was too binding.
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As of May 2026:
Keir Starmer has faced intense scrutiny and widespread criticism, leading to historically low approval ratings for a UK Prime Minister
. Criticisms stem from the political spectrum, including his own party a
nd the public.
Unprecedented Unpopularity:
Starmer’s approval ratings have fallen sharply, with reports in late 2025 showing a net rating of -46%, and comparisons suggesting he is the least popular Prime Minister in modern British history.
U-Turns and Lack of Principle:
A major criticism is his abandonment of pledges made during his leadership campaign, which has led to accusations that of lacks core principles and is untrustworthy.
Economic Policies and Austerity:
Critics argue his government has continued on a path of “economic constraint” and “fiscal responsibility,” including unpopular decisions such as failing to remove the two-child benefit cap and cutting winter fuel payments for pensioners. And tax hikes on all family farmers.
“Starmageddon” and Election Performance:
Following the 2024 election win, his leadership faced a massive backlash during local elections, with critics predicting “disastrous” results and high losses of seats, with some calling for a “reckoning”
Authoritarian Leadership Style:
His leadership has been described as “dictatorial,” with critics highlighting his and his team’s tight control over the party, including the suspension of MPs who voted against him.
“Empty” Vision and Poor Communication:
Critics, including supporters of the left-leaning faction of his party, argue that he has no clear vision for the country, is a “poor communicator,” and lacks charisma.
Donation and Transparency Concerns:
His and his party’s acceptance of significant donations from wealthy donors, such as Lord Waheed Alli, has led to accusations of hypocrisy regarding “sleaze” and corruption, particularly in light of early scandals.
Weak Position and Potential Leadership Challenges: Despite his large parliamentary majority, his position is seen as vulnerable, with speculation about potential challenges to his leadership from within his own party.
Foreign Policy and Diplomatic Stance:
His and his government’s stance on international issues, such as the conflict in Gaza and, in particular, his and his team’s comments about Donald Trump, have been criticised for weakening the UK’s international standing and causing diplomatic issues. Criticisms were highlighted in a variety of sources, including opinion pieces in The Guardian, discussions on Reddit, and The New Statesman.

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Key Aspects of Starmer’s Premiership
Approval Ratings:
By January 2026, Starmer reached a net satisfaction rating of -57, matching previous lows seen in 2024, with only 18% holding a favourable view.
Public Opinion:
He has been described by some critics as “unpopular” and, by focus groups, as a “jellyfish” or “doormat”.
Political Challenges:
 His leadership faces pressure from within the Labour Party following poor election performances.
Policy Focus:
Early actions included ending the ban on onshore wind, setting up a National Wealth Fund, and outlining workers’ rights reforms.
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Inchie Today: Friday 8th April 2026

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Sorry, but today things got too much for me.

Topped up the food in the cupboard
In the fridge
Treats included this time
Favourite naughty nibbles

Things got on top of me. I lost or couldn’t find something at least 16 times, as I can recall.
Was with me in varying degrees all day.
Then, mid-morning, the stomach started rumbling; I started coughing and sneezing, and Trotsky Terence activated so often that I considered calling the nurses. The anticoagulatio… no that’s not right. Antidiarrheal capsules were consumed voraciously. Almost like Polo mints, or Rolos, once you open the packet. Haha!
In the morning, now… it starts all over again.

The nurse came to check the leg. I’d taken the strappings off, in hope of getting into my slippers, with the reluctant help of Carer Atilla. Cause I seem to be feeling the cold so much. But the leg was okay, much better. She signed me off, saying, “Call us if… no when it comes back.” I love a good sense of humour.

Actually got a call today from Carer Ejaz. How precious that was. Body checks, Porpain Gelling, Catheter contraption checked for comfort. Help with food preparation. All without having to remember to ask for them. And someone who listens to what I need or ask, not tells me what I want. Thank heavens he is off for two days now. Heavenly!

As the eyes faded in the afternoon, the Trots eased off a little but still kept coming, though nowhere near as often as earlier on. Trotsky Terence is back this morning, sprier than ever. But I’ve not been caught out… Smug-Mode-Adopted.

High white sky,
dark below.

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Ooops, the nosh…

Inchie Today: Wednesday 6th May 2026

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06:25hrs: I clambered out of the second-hand Charity shop and bought a £300 broken-down, tube-crunching, dried blood-covered, grotty, dirty, creaking, not working, falling-to-pieces recliner.
Removed the night pouch, passed an enormously loud and long passage of wind from my rear-end, and made my way to the Porcelain Throne. I had four visits today, all the same Trotsky Terence style.
Sorted the waste bins into one large bag, and hastened back to the Porcelain Throne with a little worrying if I’d make it in time… only just!
Then did my teggies, as the need for a mug of tea arose. Into the kitchenette, got the kettle on the boil, and made a drink. A Glengettie and Tetley half-cup bags. Nice and strong. Just a splash of full cream milk, and I enjoyed drinking it while I sat there, basking in the few lingering thoughts that were available, and took a snap of the balcony. No threatening sunshine this morning, so I could open the curtains a bit.
A third Throne-Calling had me back in the wet-room on the WC. A little messier this time.
The Carer arrived. Issued the medications. Asked if I wanted a drink of anything to eat, I asked for some cornflakes, explaining I now have a morning nibble. Flakes then bikkies alternate days. I would not risk asking him to make a brew after yesterday’s effort. He got on his mobile. 
Shown him where the flakes and milk were, asking him not to put too much milk in the bowl. He drowned the few cornflakes completely. Soggy, inedible. I took a snap of underneath the Carer’s desk. 
Later, I took snaps of the wonderful-looking clouds.
The sunshine is making its way over the hills behind the flats.

Then, I had two short, I think mini seizures that I was aware of; they seemed very short to me. I was recovering from the first one when a second hit me. I’ve never had that before. Recovering took me yonks. 
I reckon it took me a good half-hour before I was prepared to risk standing up again. And then, I very nearly went over. So glad I thought to use two sticks when I first moved.
I’m not certain about the timings. But it seemed to go by in a flash, from Ejaz leaving to his noon return. 
Embarrassingly, I got confused about the Carer Rota Jenny prepared for me. I think Tuesday was for laundry when it used to be Wednesday. Mizra said it was not Tuesday. And started cleaning up and doing a good job for me. Naturally, I thought it must be Wednesday. Ejaz said no, not him anyway. Then Jenny called to explain. But I didn’t grasp things for ages. There is another call half an hour later, which must be for the laundry. Ah, well, I did feel a fool. 
Well, let’s face it… I am.

A new-to-me Carer arrived. She took the laundry down, and I phoned Jenny to let her know.
Sandithi returned, checked the Catheter, and had a look at the legs.

Then I told her about the brush & dustpan set from Amazon that had been delivered, but the dustpan was broken. Made in China, wished I’d known. She helped me try to reach the Amazon Helpdesk. As with all Oligarch companies, they make it near impossible and keep telling us to go to the supplier. So we tried, and when we got through, a message told us that Amazon had delivered the parcel and that we needed to go to their helpdesk… round and round, not getting anywhere. We were determined not to give up.
We kept trying different routes, but kept ending up at the same place: contact the supplier. Who repeated. Contact the Amazon helpline or customer service about the problem.
Then we gave up!

She then tried to get a slipper on the undbandaged foot, as it looked less swollen. But it wasn’t, it had just lost the bronze colouring of the last week.

I was still not grasping things properly. And went to take some sky photographs through the kitchen windows. Beautiful!
No strong sunshine got through today, not that it bothered me.

I was going into a depression. As Carer Ejaz arrived on his one visit. I tried to explain and apologise for being my usual self. He did his best to cheer me up. Also got me to write an Email and helped me when he saw I was struggling, to Easy Link. To get a list for Friday, the 15th, for the Audio Centre. Bless him. I made a start on a meal and have it early, so the Carer is not here when I’m eating.

What followed is a mystery to me. Why?
I got up in the morning, thinking I’d already done, finished, pasted and emailed the link to this blog.
Now Thursday 7th May, 13:40, and after a morning of smuggly thinking that I was doing so well today, I discovered I had not done this one yet. I think that my verbal denigration, self-loathing, name-calling and naughty language shook the Carer somewhat as he was helping himself to an ice cream cone. But at least he did ask me if I wanted one. Hehe!

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Inchie: Tuesday 5th May 2026

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Carer Mizra called the chemist to cancel the COVID-19 inoculation. Then he called the Audio Centre and made a pro tem appointment for me. I’ll have to pay for the lost hearing aids, naturally. They were only ever on loan from the NHS in the first place (1982). Hoping that it’s not going to be too expensive. Mizra speed-mopped the kitchen for me. Thank you. The INR gal vampire came for the Warfarin & Renal blood taking.

COMPUTER PROBLEMS
I tried twice to get it to load, but nope! Sulked a while and made a brew of tea, and went back to try again. And it got this far…
Thought I’d wait a little longer.
Drank the n made another brew. Emptied and sorted the waste bin bags. Went to the toilet, a long, messy job. Then, I returned to see this screen appear.
Nothing changed, and after half an hour, I started looking for the computer man’s number. I could not find it, but Mizra has it, I’m sure. Turned everything off and got a text message from the bank about an important email they had sent.
Had to try once again to get the computer on.
Luv-a-ducks! It came on!?!?
I got into the email, but could not find any email from the bank, only old ones. The text had a link… part of a scam, mayhaps? I went on the text on the phone to read it again… Mystery! It was not there. Either I had deleted it… or it was a self-destruct con-job? Haha!
Do you remember the TV series?
“This tape will self-destruct in five (ten) seconds.
Good luck, [Dan/Jim].”
I wish they would show them again; they were the epitome of corny, but I liked them.
Love it when the good guys win.
Morning shot.
As the right leg gets better,
the left leg gets worse.
Morning snaps.
Meal. 7¼/10
Evening dawns.
FOOD ADVICE
For anyone purchasing Morrison’s ‘Sweet Vine-ripened Tomatoes’ in May. As long as you appreciate the utter tastelessness and lack of juice, they’re fine.
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Inchie: 16th February, 2016
George Street in Nottingham City Centre. He used to walk to here from his flat in Sherwood and back again after shopping. Of course, you have to remember that back then, he was still alive. Hehehe! He loved a long walk, and hobbled through his beloved Tree Copse on route there and back to his cell (flat).
The persistent rain kept so many others indoors. Now, it is Inchie that is stuck indoors. This year he has left his flat a good many times; Shopping with Carer (2), Computer shop for help with Carer (2), QMC hospital (6), City Hospital (1), Highbury (2) with Carer, Dentist with Carer (2), Opticians with Carer (1), Diabetes Program Meeting (2) 1 (alone), 1 with Carer, Audio (Hearing aid) Centre, with Carer (2), and the Neurologist (1) alone, the Carer nor lift were not available. He was lifted there, for only £9, but no lift available to get back. That was the day of disasters, if you recall. He had a seizure as he left the building, got lost and had to ask the way to the tram station. The tram had people squished like in a can of sardines when it arrived. It was getting dark. He got on the tram with his three-wheeled walker, condensed as far as he could. As the tram pulled away, he lost his balance and fell over.
Luckily, there was not enough room for him to fall flat on the floor. People around him helped him to his feet, and a passenger stood and offered him her seat. That was so kind and will always be remembered.
Got off in the City Centre, and was threatened jbed and tormented by a gang of youths, yobboes, when he asked them to let him through… and they would not, so he had to walk on the tram lines to get over the road.
Up Queen Street to the bus stop, and had another mini-seizure. He was confused to see that 40x buses were all that was on the timetable. Thinking, well, the same number, they must go to the flats. He got on and took a seat. All is going well now. He recalled working out a possible problem that may present itself as the bus turns down to Winchester Street; he could see nothing out of the windows, too dark. So thought as he felt the bus turning right, that would be the vehicle turning into where the flats are. Sure enough, he sensed the right turn motion and pressed the next stop bell.
It was another surprise to the lad when he realised that the bus had not stopped at his flats and had dropped him off in Sherwood, on Mansfield Road.
He crossed over the road with plans to catch another 40x bus up to near the flats and hobble down to them.
But this is Inchie we are talking about. Nothing ever goes right for him since 1966.
He realised he had no money for the bus trip right up the second-steepest hill in Nottingham, to get home.
No option left, he had to walk all the way up, which he did. Stopping at least a dozen times to let the Anne Gyna pains calm down and catch his breath.
Then, as he neared the top of the steep bit, his mobile chirrupped into life. No lights on this stretch of the road, cracked pavements, bits of branches, twigs, browned and green leaves, dog-poo, and even a used Durex. He knows this because it is where he dropped his mobile and had to dig into the ground to find it! Eventually finding it, still ringing. It was Carer Ejaz who was in his flat waiting for him.
This Tale Of Woe is Authentic.
Since moving into the flats, his life has taken a turn for the worse. A selection of new ailments since arriving includes Glaucoma, another cataract, Renal problems not yet clarified. Fractured Knee Frank, Heart Failure Felicity, Sandra’s Seizures, Little Inchies Fungal lesion bleeding, Earache Erasmus Lymphorrea Leslie, Premorbid Cognitive Impairment, Bladder Infection Iris, and Shoulder-Shuddering-Shirely
On the bright side… erm… er…
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Inchie Today: Monday 4th May 2026

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TTFNski!
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Inchie: Sunday 3rd May 2026

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Truth funnelled, forwarded, trajected
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Honesty, metamorphosed, transubstantiated,
Wars… innocents bombed, killed, tribulated,
Innocent victims, civilians mutilated,
Violence, greed, jealousy, all unaborted…

Hatred: unabrogated, but gets repeated,
East, West, Euro… egos inflated,
Untouchable Oligarchs – unintimidated,
Our planet is now less oxygenated,
Dead dying Proletriats go unnoticed,

UK NHS, crumbling, unorchestrated,
Many Middle East canals unnavigated,
Fears mount, Solutions unlocated,
Crooked Politicians, uninvestigated,
Promises are all unimplemented,
No HMG copy books unblotted…
It seems peace is now unpermitted?
Hope? untranslated, untransmitted,
Hope? It’s totally unmerited…
Warmongers go uncensored,
Their killing goes on unobstructed,
Doing what they want, unaborted,
Hopes for peace? Still ungerminated.
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Short one, sorry.

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Inchie Today: Fri/Sat 1st-2nd May 2026

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Woke up feeling fairly good, and got the kitchen floor mopped. Straight after finishing this, I got a stand-up wash, shave, teeth, and medicalised where I could reach. Then into the front room to sort the bins into one bag…
DARNED TROTSKY TORRENTS DIAHORREA
For the whole day & most of the night!
First Call: The torrent came as I was standing up to go to the Porcelain Throne. Mess number one.
Second Call: Five minutes after getting back to the room and taking an antidiarrhea pill. 
Mess number Two: At least I didn’t have to hand-wash my clothes this time, but the floor, porcelain legs, foot and lid needed attention.
Third Call, at least I made it in time. More liquid than ever. I thought things might be getting calmer.
Fourth Call: As Carer was here. No spillages, but the stomach started to rumble and grumble, and I faded.
I decided to just sit down and not do anything else, but I did not want to fall asleep in case of another splurge came while in the land of nod. Also, I had a food order on the way. that I did not put the time of on the calendar.
The Nurse arrived to rebandage the leg. Seconds after she left, off to the Porcelain Throne again.
Fifth Call: Un-Rotton-believable! I cannot understand or know why this particular orgy of foul-smelling, all-but-liquid excrement lasted so long. How was all that still in by innards after four lengthy evacuations? No wonder I had suffered from stomachache permanently. How is this possible?
I wouldn’t say I felt actually poorly, as such.
Tired out, with aches and pains, and, to make things that little bit more uncomfortable, I had to put on the large protection pants to help catch any early escapes from the rear end. Thus, hurting Little Inchy as the pants trapped the tube in the Catheter, and the fugal lesion started bleeding.
Sixth Call: I was convinced things were beginning to ease off this time. Same liquid structure, but just one spurt, and it was all over.
Seventh Call: Obviously, I was wrong. This noon visit was yet another Trotsky Terence Torrent.

Each of the first 12 or so visits to the Porcelain Throne meant pain, cleaning up the wet room, and painful medicationings. I was growing weaker as the day dragged on. I gave up counting them here.
At a guess, 10 more followed up to 17:30 hours, and heavenly peace prevailed!
But I was incapable of concentrating, all I wanted to do was stay awake for the food delivery, sort it, and get myself some sleep… Please!
I began to think that I may not have ordered one after all. Yes, hard to believe I could forget something, I know. (Sarcasm Crept In?)

The food arrived at 19:30hrs,


Got it stored away, and realised that in all the time taken, I’d not had a call to the Porcelain Throne!

The dream of sleeping became a reality.
At least a possibility,
But it became a futility…
I got in bed, feeling so sleepy…

Off to the Porcelain Throne for me,
Diahorrea; will I ever be free?

Yet another visit, I made it in time. Still, I dare not get back in bed, so set myself down in the c1966, £300 Oxfam charity shop-bought, wincingly grotty, beige-coloured, crumb-covered from my nocturnal nibblings, itch-making, uncomfortable, positively unhealthy, and dangerous, no longer operational, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of, Catheter-tube-trapping recliner. Where I had to get up from another half-dozen times in the night.

Not one of my best days.
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Slightly eerie morning?
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Through the balcony windows
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Straight ahead from the kitchen window. With the sun coming up from the rear left.
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To the left, a little bit of sunshine on the right.
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Slightly to the right. My much-missed daily walking through the tree copse. New pathway up the hill to the right of the battered but beautiful trees. coppice. Ah, so sad.
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To the left again. I was trying to snap the police helicopter, but by the time I was ready, it had gone or landed in pursuit of some low-life.
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Moody view taken later on by Carer Ejaz, of the front car park on Citrus Way.
While I was busy on the Porcelain Throne.
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Memory Photographs
Taken from my flat window in 2018 during the modernisation of Winwood Heights. Consisting of Winchester Court, Winwood Court, & my Woodthorpe Prison… Court.
Taken in 2009.
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Due to my getting Carer Ejaz & Carer Mizra calling on me. They were sorely missed.
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Inchie Today: Wed 29th April 2026

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Another sleepless night. Fretting over the computer not starting, as I explained yesterday, I think.
Today was another day full of angst.
Any new or altered technology is above my head. As if I’m in a deep mine, and facts & figures, understanding, solutions, and graspabilities are floating out of reach in the outer hemisphere. Today was like this, logic, unstandableness, out of reach, unattainable…
With the Carers’ help, snaps were taken. launching hassles, wobbles, shakes & dizzies… at will.
His most successful attempt to be the most bothersome ailment of the day, in months.
held that status, with a close second.
The mysteries of the computer were the most persistent, but somehow or other, I seemed to find a way of keeping going without the foggiest idea how or what I was doing, but I did.
I am currently further behind with blogging, reading & comments on WordPress; I shall have to cut things short to at least catch up a little. 
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The carefully made bed. Hehe!
The thinnest curtains in the land,
Partly held up by an elastic band,
A hole you can put through your hand,
To buy new ones, I’ll need a wand…
The kitchen’s night view is grand.

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Pretty good in the daytime, too.
Took these over an hour
of the changing sky.
Another cracking meal made.
Sandwiches with no-butter
butter, with sliced tomatoes,
salted, and sliced roast meat.
Carer Ejaz sliced them for me.
I was in a bit of a state, with
, and
giving me a  
bit of a battering tonight.
It’s been a week or so since
they had a go at me. I thought
they had departed. It’s been

such a long time.

Not a good day. Mizra, bless him, rang the chemist to book an appointment for the Covid jab.
The computer, CorelDraw. With me managing to arrange two appointments for the same time. Covid Jab at the chemist, and the Doctor’s appointment to see the plebotomist, along with visits from SS & DD; it was a chaotic and confusing day.

Then, on Thursday, I got a call from the surgery, telling me they had arranged a home visit for me that same Wednesday! Luckily for me, they changed the day to the following Thursday. Now I must remember to ring the chemist tomorrow to cancel and apologise. They are closed on a Saturday, so I must remember.
Naturally, I forgot all about doing it.

My mind is permanently bemused,
It feels as if it’s being abused,
No rest, no logic… aggressed,
Think its being self-anatomised,

Plans, tasks, only being theorised,
Action thought of, not actualised,
Changes; my brain’s unmodernised 

Wants, hopes & needs, dematerialised…
I should really give up, I realised,

Problems get too big-sized,
For years on WordPress, I’ve diarised,
Now two days behind; I cried…
More medical dates, as I aged,
Without Carers, I once managed,
Seems it has to be acknowledged,
My mind struggles; it gets befogged,
Pain, aches, once just twinged,
Catheter agony; I was almost unhinged,
My current state remains undivulged,
Depressed, at best, rather laboured,
Be nice to get my batteries recharged!

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Sorry about how I feel, it may
be a while before I’m back.
So many things to do, catch
up with. Computer, blog, WP
reader, comments, Health
issues, medical appointment.
I think I’m losing it. I mean
my willpower. Hehehe!

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Inchie: Tuesday 28th April 2026 = Computer Assessed, Not Good!

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Worra Night!
After eating the meal of the day and really enjoying it, washing the pots and visiting the Porcelain Throne, I unfortunately suffered an Accifauxpa and didn’t get there in time. But it could have been worse; it has been many times this year, and it only took me about 15 minutes to clean things up.
I decided sleep was next in line for my attention. I seemed to have fallen asleep quickly… I felt I had when waking at 02:00hrs, again in desperate need of the Porcelain Throne. Not wanting to risk another accident, I fumbled my way out of the bed and hobbled-hastily to the wet room.

A darned close call, I only just made it. Where all the evacuating little, short dollops kept coming from, I don’t know. I cast my mind back as the plop-plops kept coming. I only ate my favourite nosh, cheesy baked potato. I can’t recall such a reaction to these before. To be on the safe side, I got down in the £300 second-hand shop bought, c1966. moth-eaten, bedraggled, grotty, cringingly beige-coloured, much-dilapidated, crumb-containing from my nocturnal nibblings, Catheter tube trapping, bug-ridden, itch-inspiring, not working recliner. To enable a swifter reply in case I need to go again. 
0315:hrs, and I was off again to the Porcelain Throne. I got there more swiftly this time. No accidents.
When I got back to the recliner, I almost felt another follow-through trying to make its way down. I could not get to sleep again now. I sort of just waited for the next evacuation warning to arrive. It came at 06:00hrs. A lot less passed this time. Thankfully, I got there in plenty of time. I pondered, I do that sometimes, you know. Was the cheese in the baked potatoes out of date?
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The day brought forth some challenges, not of the rear-end evacuation type. Attilla the Carer, Rachid did the first two calls, so my low mood was set. The feet and toes seem to adapt much more easily at first. Three toe-stubbings in the first hour put an end to that bit of pleasure. I partially opened the balcony curtains, and when the sun comes out, I have to close them. Bright sun doesn’t suit Cataract Katie or Glaucoma Gladys. This snap came out as it looked. A medical delivery arrived. Concentration was bad when I got on the computer. But I reckon it was less bothersome than yesterday morning. 
I did my best to get the Monday blog finished before the computer man arrives. I pressed on, making mistake after mistake, and I don’t know how long it took, but I got it sent off. Fearing that many cock-ups will be in the finished blog.

I took another shot through the balcony windows, dead excited about this blog, innit? Hahaha!

Carer Rashid did the next call. Nothing much happened; if he can ignore me, I can ignore him. Haha!
After he’d not too soon for me, gone, I got the kettle on.
And the intercom sounded. I was overjoyed!

The Computer Man Cameth
Less than a minute later, Carer Mizra came in behind the computer genius Andy. Who spent a long time asking questions and assessing the state of the computer for me. Mirza conducted the communications. After much effort from Andy, trying to install the two-terabyte external hard drive in the computer. At least I think it was a two-terabyte-sized one. The old computer would not let him transfer anything from the other drive to save space,
Mizra ran out of time, so no time for me to have an assisted shower or to get the laundry done again.

Andy ended up asking if I wanted to use this machine as it is, with slightly more memory, but not a lot, or do you want me to source a suitable used one with Asif, that will cope with CorelDraw, which has very little space left to do much. I said I’d go with his recommendation. The goal was to get a new computer. Fair enough for me. So, be it. Bank Balance considerations, of course. Andy will report the needs back to Asif. Closed the computer down.

As Andy left, I realised that the Catheter pouch was overdue for emptying. So, I emptied it. Haha!

I’m feeling a smidge more hopeful now that Andy’s been and sorted this computer out, and I agree with his decision that a new (second-hand, refurbished) machine would be the best option for me.

The legs, feet, and toes were all looking better when Ejaz took these snaps, which I put together, but not very well. Looks like a mangle of limbs, the way I did this, manipulating. Hehe!

Frank arrived with some treats that Jenny, my angel, had sent for me. I gave him a small box of stuff for the Charity or handing out. Had a little outing with Frank, a lovely couple of neighbours who I am very proud to have as Guardians & friends. Bless them both. So understanding and helpful. X I’d made a meal earlier, I’ll not eat all of it, after the feast from Jenny.


The computer went down, died!
The landline stopped working!
The TV stopped working!

My heart and interest in living went into hold mode. My first actions, apart from panicking, were to try to think about what I was doing or did wrong that caused the catastrophe in the first place. Or had Andy missed something earlier? The chances were that it was my error, a mistake, or that I accidentally caught a dangerous, fatal combination of keys. As I have one in the past. Causing all sorts of problems due to the dying neurotransmitters.
They warned me there was no treatment, saying they cannot mend damaged nerve ends, and it will slowly get worse.
They were right.
I thought I’d give it some time before trying to restart the computer, in case it was doing something all technical in the background.
I picked up the landline thingy, put it down, and it made a tone. The mystery deepened.
I had no idea for certain of what I did with the TV to get it back on. Turned it on a few times, and it turned itself off. Got it to stay on, displaying a No. Connected sign. Then pressed the TV button on the remote control, and the TV closed down again. I pointed the remote at the scary, threatening Virgin box, and the red light turned yellow. Then tried again to start the TV, and dropped the control thingy. Got the picker-upper and retrieved it, to see that the TV had come on?
I prayed that getting the computer back would be as easy as that. (It wasn’t and didn’t!) 

In the past, when launching the computer, I’d get a ‘DoS’ message telling me to press ESC for details. This would bring up a dreaded blue screen. Press Enter for options. Another blue screen says to press F1 to start the computer. This has happened each time I’ve opened it for about 3 years or more now. 
But not now… The black screen opens, but pressing ESC does nothing. Also, I could not turn off the computer at the button, had to switch the power off. I kept repeating this pattern, so many times and for so long. Not knowing what else I could try. Each go was met with failure.

No sleep tonight. Mind on the verge of exploding. self-pity, futility, anger… Mostly, the sour, blood-draining effects of Deep, Dark, Dank, Depression Darius.
And to think, I had gone up into a high a few hours ago when the computer was sorted…
That didn’t last long, did it?

Heartlessly, I put the meal in the microwave. It looked okay, smelled okay, but after feartily enjoying Jenny’s treats, combined with the Computer problems, I just couldn’t eat more than a few spoonfuls. I couldn’t get to sleep either. I scribbled down the times I got up to try to restart the computer. 

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Inchie Today: Monday 27th April 2026

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0625hrs: I leapt out of the bed, somersaulted over the aged, grotty-looking, c1966-made, charity-shop-bought, horribly beige-coloured, £300, Harold’s Haemorrhoid-testing, non-operational, acne-giving, virus-breeding, rickety, easy-to-fall-out-of recliner. Landing and started doing some shadow boxing. A 100 press-ups, and got the weights out, 150 double curls, and burst into song, ‘I’ve got the Whole World in My Hands…’ Into the balcony, threw open the windows and burst forth with a few minutes of Tarzan wailing. I suppose you have doubts about the validity & truth of the above? Very wise!
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I took off the Catheter night bag and hobbled into the kitchen to do the pots and safety checks. Then the bins, and off to the wetroom initially for a poop. Trotsky is in charge this time. Messy! I decided to get a stand-up wash, teggies, shave, etc., while I was there. It all went fairly well, just one bad cut shaving.
Got the kettle on and opened the window to take this shot of the morning sky. Realising how much easier the swollen right leg & foot were today. Nice! I 
brewed the tea and got on the computer. Slowly, my earlier feeling of being overall in a better place faded. When the Carer called, it was Rachid.
I had another of those long active seizures after I’d got rid of the Carer. Don’t really know how long or what I had been up to. But I noticed the Hoover had been moved, and the mug of cold tea had been knocked or dropped onto the floor. It took me an age to recover from this seizure. I felt almost groggy.

The INR agency worker came to take the blood for the DVT Warfarin clinic testing. The result came back at about 17:50 hours: Mon 2, every other day, 1½.

I had long periods of feeling out-of-it, almost like being drunk. Confusion lasted all day.
And as the late afternoon, tea-time came, I honestly was an utter mental wreck.  
The following might be out of sync again, because in the morning, when I read my memory notes, well, it looked nothing like my handwriting, and my memory was only prompted by some of the photographs I’d taken.
I can remember this one. I had two giant potatoes left and fancied my hand at making some of my beloved cheesy potatoes. I couldn’t decide which of the spuds to use, as they both came well battered about.
At least I could tell when I took this snap, of the battery calendar clock.
These shots of the clouds were a pareidolia’s delight.

The INR blood was taken.

I got a phone call that I could not hear any of the words. The Carer was here, so I asked him to take the call. He did, but said not a word to me; he just started looking around the Carer’s desk and on the floor. Then shot off out of the flat.
Returning to sit down and get back on his mobile. 
I never found who or why they called me. Despite asking the Carer. Mysteriousnesses?

I got the potato into the oven and got on with the blogging. It was hard work, as per usual, with snaffles and Concentration Konrad not helping in the slightest. Carer style.
Taking this photo of the sky was when the ultra-drunken feeling and sensation deepened, along with genuine confusion.

The joy of seeing Caring Carer Ejaz make his only call of the day really perked me up. I felt much more like myself. Someone who cares, speaks, doesn’t grunt and ignores me when I say or ask for anything to be done or whatever. He did a full-body check, asked how the legs felt, and asked if I wanted a brew and some bikkies. Phorpain Gelled my painful Shaling Shoulder Shirely, rubbing it in until it was fully absorbed. Much better reaction when they spend a minute rubbing the gel in. 👍🏻
The hard work chap called. Still no body checking, not that I needed it after Ejaz had done it for me. I put the oven on to cook the large spud.

I hastened to fetch the camera from the junk room to take this amazing shot of the evening sky. Another pareidolia’s delight.

I got the spud out of the oven and got so annoyed when I had a feast of dropping stuff, spilling things, and losing my grip on things. Plus, difficulty in using the implements needed to make the meal. Unbelievable problem! What a mess I’d made in the kitchen. It was bad enough before, with no Carer cleaning it for three or four weeks now. Ejaz was the last one to do it. I’ll try to remember the sequence of droppages & spillages, etc. Oddly, I could recall these with ease. I think this is because I was all het up and angry at myself for repeatedly making such a mess that it stuck with me… maybe.
I took the monster potato out of the oven; the husk disintegrated on the outside, with flakes of skin all over the counter, tray, cooker, and floor… Grrr!
Belatedly, I got the chopping board out and used that to slice the spud in half. It took a long time to clean up, but it didn’t matter that the veg was cooling, as I was going to scoop it into a basin for mixing, then put it back in the oven to brown off.
I got the no-butter butter from the fridge to mix in, and picked up the large mixing bowl, this is where interfered again. I dropped the bowl, & no-butter butter. The bowl, hitting a large stack of Tupperware washed earlier and left to drain, with several different-sized bowls, fell to the floor, rolled around, and surrounded the No-butter butter! A bit of luck this time, the long picker-upper meant no bending and less pain and dizziness!
Still determined to have my favourite meal, I pressed on after a few minutes of recuperation.
I cut the mammoth potato in half lengthwise and began scooping the flesh into the mixing bowl. It was here, that kicked off.
I stood looking down the bowl at some of the potatoes on the floor. I’ll not say what I called myself.
But it was a smidge defamatory.
No choice, I could not avoid bending down, if I was going to clean this up with the little bits on the floor.
I’ve asked every Carer to find out where I can get a long-handled brush & dustpan set. And how! Being as I am now flat-bound again!
Irritation brewed in my mind, not self-pity this time, more like a semi-anger.
Back to cooking. I scooped the flesh into the bowl, added the last of the Leicester-grated cheese, and some No-butter butter and sea salt. Bashed it up for as long as I could, into t semi-smooth state, refilled the two halves of the husk, ran a fork over the top of each to ensure crispiness when cooked, and went for a sit-down without doing any clearing up, and fell asleep.
Not for long, but I could smell the potatoes when I woke up. So, off into the kitchen and they were just how I like ’em, well done. And they were red hot when I extracted them from the oven. So while they cooled a bit, I cleared and washed things up.

Then at last, and with great physical and emotional pains, I got the meals served up… After adding Chilli & Lemon Potato Curls. Great!
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Worth All The Hassle? You Decide! Hehehe!
Despite it all, it was lovely,

But I have to say, costly,
Pricewise, Physically & Mentally,
I say this enthusiastically,
I fare with life intolerantly,
But, voided living in xerophagy,
I need help neuropsychiatrically,
I can feel high, but hesitantly…
With the crap-luck that haunts me!
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