HMP Nottingham Facts + Local News Snippets

‘Whole-life’ sentences: They’ll never be released

Ever since the death penalty was abolished in 1965, people in England and Wales who have committed murder have been given mandatory life sentences. However, there is usually a minimum tariff within those life sentences indicating how many years the prisoner should serve before being considered for parole. Across the country, only around 70 prisoners are serving ‘whole-life’ sentences where they will never be released.

Below is a list of some of the killers the Post has reported on who have been given life with a minimum of at least 20 years since 2007. We haven’t included anyone serving their time abroad, such as Neil Entwistle, the Worksop man doing life without parole in the US for killing his wife and daughter.

Peter Brown (below) of Main Street, Kimberley – 40 years for stabbing Darran Lancashire in Kimberley and stabbing Brian Flaherty in Lenton six days later. He was sentenced in 2010, and three years later, he confessed to a third murder of a fellow inmate at HMP Parkhurst on the Isle of Wight back in 1994.

Peter Brown

Simon Palmer of Edwin Street, Daybrook – 33 years for the murder of Tony Fisher. The 43-year-old was part of a gang of four men who broke into Mr Fisher’s home in Carlton, before torturing and then murdering him to steal jewellery and between £10,000 and £14,000 in cash. See also Marcus Barton (below). (Sentenced in 2017)

Marcus Barton (left) and Simon Palmer
Marcus Barton (right) and Simon Palmer 

Michael Furniss of no fixed address – 32 years and 11 months for the murder of Andrew Dosiuk in Arnold. (2014)

Damien Fogo of Hungerhill Gardens, St Ann’s – 32 years for shooting Germaine Edwards in Bilborough. (2013)

Peter Smith (left) of West Hill, Skegby, 30 years for bludgeoning neighbour Hilda Owen in Skegby after writing her will and leaving everything to him. He was sentenced in 2008, and his conviction was later overturned, but in 2012 he was found guilty of her murder for the second time, this time receiving life with a minimum of 27 years.

Peter Smith

Peter Jacques of Charlesworth Street, Bolsover – 28 years for stabbing Nigel Bacon near Clumber Park. He was sentenced in 2009, and a year later, the minimum term was reduced to 26 years on appeal.

Robert Marcinkiewicz-Szukowski (below) of Rossington Road, Sneinton – 27 years for the murder of Bogdan Nawrocki, whose body has never been found. (2015)

Robert Marcinkiewicz-Szukowski
Robert Marcinkiewicz-Szukowski

Marcus Barton of Raymede Drive, Bestwood Estate -25 years for the murder of Tony Fisher in Carlton. (2017)

Paul Hutchinson (below) of Stockgill Close, Gamston – 25 years for the murder of Nott’s schoolgirl Colette Aram in 1983. He killed himself in prison nine months after being jailed for her murder. (2010)

Paul Hutchinson

Susan Edwards (below) of Dagenham, Essex – 25 years for the 1998 shooting of her parents, William and Patricia Wycherley in Forest Town. (2014)

Susan Edwards

Christopher Edwards (above) of Dagenham, Essex – 25 years for the 1998 shooting of his father-in-law and mother-in-law William and Patricia Wycherley in Forest Town. (2014)

Christopher Edwards

Kathryn Smith of Sandfield Drive, Annesley – 24 years for murdering her 21-month-old daughter Ayeeshia. She has appealed against her 2016 conviction, with a decision due later this year.

Jonathan Jones of Barbury Drive, Clifton – 24 years for stabbing John Parker in St Ann’s. (2015)

Susan Bacon of Keeper’s Cottage, near Clumber Park – 24 years for the murder of her gamekeeper husband, Nigel Bacon. (2009)

Rene Sarpong (below) of Lamartine Street, St Ann’s – 22 years for the 2002 shooting of 16-year-old Brendon Lawrence in St Ann’s. (2010)
Rene Sarpong

Michael Bacon of Wordsworth Avenue, Mansfield Woodhouse – 21 years for the murder of his mum’s husband, Nigel Bacon. (2009)

James McCarthy of Collyer Road, Calverton – 21 years for killing Julie Semper in Mapperley. (2015)

Jemelle Rodney of Mitcham, Surrey – 20 years for stabbing Nathan Somers in Newark. (2013)

Shane Guest

Shane Guest (right) of Austin Close, Mansfield – 20 years for stabbing former school friend Thomas Alderson in Mansfield. (2010)

Of course, not all of the longest sentences have been handed out to people who have been guilty of murder. Bestwood crime lord Colin Gunn was given 35 years in 2006 for conspiracy to murder Joan and John Stirland in Lincolnshire. John Russell of Northcote Way, Bulwell, was jailed for a minimum of 30 years, and Michael McNee, of no fixed address, was jailed for at least 25 years after both were also found guilty of conspiring to murder the Stirlands. And Gary Hardy of the Copse, Mansfield, was given 20 years in 2008 for conspiracy to supply heroin and amphetamines, money laundering and possession of criminal property.

More Detail on Nottingham Prison…

16 NOTTINGHAM PRISON ESCAPEES!

ALFIE HINDS: Alfred – also known as Alfie-Hinds, was the most famous escapee. Hinds was jailed for 12 years following a £38,000 cash and jewellery robbery in London’s Tottenham Court Road in 1953. But in November 1955, he and another inmate, burglar Patrick Fleming, escaped from Nottingham Prison in Perry Road. The two men had obtained a duplicate key to the prison carpenter’s shop, and they hid there until it was time for their bid for freedom. They stacked wooden window frames and lengths of timber on top of each other, and scaled the pile to reach the top of the 20ft wall.

Once over the wall and into the prison playing field, they used the timber again to get over a lower wall on the other side of the fields. They then broke through a wire fence to escape to the nearby housing estate. The two men got clean away. For the next few months, Hinds was on the run, but he still found time to write letters to newspapers protesting his innocence of the robbery. Fleming was the first to be recaptured, but it was not until August 1956 that 38-year-old Hinds were found in Dublin – 245 days after escaping. (That, however, wasn’t the end of it.

During a High Court appearance in 1957, he escaped from the building and made it all the way to London Airport, where he was arrested on a plane about to take off for Dublin. He broke out of Chelmsford Prison and lived in Belfast for two years before being recaptured. He was released from prison in 1964 and died in 1991.)

Well, you’ve got to admire his determination?

FIVE PRISONERS (1963): Remember the film Porridge where the prisoners escaped during a football match? In August 1963, five prisoners escaped through the wire fence at Nottingham Prison – and the break-out happened during a cricket coaching session on the prison sports ground.

Three of the men escaped in an Austin Cambridge car waiting for them on the grounds of the City Hospital. Police drafted in extra men and tracker dogs to search for the five men, all serving sentences of between seven and eight years for burglary offences. Sadly, the Post archives do not readily indicate when or how they were found.

THREE PRISONERS 1963: It seems late 1963 was a prime time for escape – perhaps something to do with the Great Train Robbery capturing the imagination in August that year (incidentally, train robbers Gordon Goody, Thomas Wisbey and Roy James were held in Nottingham Prison before they were transferred to Parkhurst). In September of that year, three men escaped from Nottingham prison by scrambling over the prison wall.

Police believed that once free of the prison grounds, the men stole a Humber Super Snipe from the car park at Nottingham City Hospital. Again, police set up roadblocks around the city and tracker dogs were used in a bid to capture the trio, all in their mid-30s. They also checked pubs and cinemas around the city. But there is no news on what happened to the men, who served eight-year terms for various offences, including receiving stolen goods and breaking and entering.

20-year-old man (1965): This was an example of the classic ‘escape when they take you to hospital’ technique. On August 31, 1965, a 20-year-old man serving three years for theft and house-breaking was taken to Nottingham City Hospital for a routine X-ray examination. But at the hospital, he managed to get rid of his escort and escape through a bedroom window and onto the roof. He was recaptured and returned to Nottingham Prison after being seen on a rooftop in Old Radford.
Police called out Nottingham Fire Brigade, who sent an engine with two ladders to block the escape routes on either side. Policemen shone torches on the man – who was said to be “running like a cat along the rooftops” – and he was recaptured.

Six prisoners (1982): This was such a serious breakout that questions were asked in the House of Commons about how it had been allowed to happen. It involved six men who Home Secretary Willie Whitelaw would later describe as ‘not dangerous’. However, one was serving a life sentence for murder, and the others were serving sentences of between three years and 30 months for a range of offences. However, because they were nearing release – with the convicted murderer about to be transferred to an open prison – they were accommodated in unlocked Nissen huts about 15ft from the perimeter wall.

Just before midnight on July 11, they bolted three-bed frames together to make a ladder, used sheeting to make a rope, and escaped over the wall. Three men were captured in Luton within a few hours, and two more on July 14.

But when Nottingham North MP William Whitlock raised the escape in the House of Commons on July 19, the murderer was still on the run. Mr Whitelaw told him that a report about the escape was being written but that all six men were eligible to be housed in the less-secure huts. Remarkably, the flight over the wall was actually witnessed by another prisoner in the middle of a rooftop protest and hunger strike when it happened. Martin Foran spent 47 days on the prison roof protesting that he was innocent of the charges of armed robbery he had been jailed for, having been convicted in 1978 following an investigation by the now-discredited West Midlands Serious Crime Squad. His wife, who said that he was being unfairly treated because he was Irish, reportedly scaled a nearby roof in a show of solidarity. Mr Foran said he had watched the escape of the six prisoners but had refused to join them. His conviction was quashed in 2014. Abbott later pleaded guilty to wounding concerning the bar attack and escaping custody, aggravated vehicle taking, driving while disqualified and driving without insurance. He was jailed for a total of four years and one month.

A FEW LOCAL NEWS SNIPPETS BONUS

A neighbour shot the rat after taking the photo.

I was dubious in inputting the above of poor Diana on the blog. But decided I felt so sorry for her. As if the lady had not gone through enough already, this had happened to her.

I felt as if I should. 

Inchcock’s Local New Snippets – Issue 33⅓rd

Discuss the case? Pal of Putin?

So, you stab someone in the middle of the day,
Then walk cursing, but casually away…
You get arrested, to your complete dismay,
Charged with a bladed weapon, they say…
They may also charge you with causing an affray.
And you’re released on bail the same day?
What is all this futile legal foppery?

So, a fine will be nothing; she gets £76,500+ a year,
Expenses on top, bet she’s not feeling toeier!
Coming out of court, she looked full of cheer?
Perhaps she’s going to see the judge for a beer?

Oddlimost, no name of the arrested personage. I can’t see one for the victim, either. This is not going to be a straightforward case!

Robbing, hitting in the face, for chocolates, never?
Is he a Putin spy working undercover?
No permanent home, so a bit of a rover?
He doesn’t look thick, but clever?
Likely he’s a cunning conniver…
He should’ve gotten a job and become an achiever!
Instead of getting himself into all that bovver…
No job involving a hammer, knife or screwdriver!
Perhaps in jail, he’ll train to be a basket weaver?
Or find Christ, and become a believer?
Then he just might stop being a skiver?

The man may have been telling the truth at a whim,
But somehow, I feel a little sympathy for him…
His Mrs giving a verbal onslaught to Darren,
He felt depressed, feeling sick to the brim…
He escaped her nagging, if only for a minim…
And the police went a gorrim!

Drunk or not, he should not have been carrying a knife – that should have been five years for the scumball in a proper prison on its own! Four years in a young offenders’ institution? Pathetic! He’s capable of getting drunk and threatening a woman and child with a knife. A coward, although he no doubts believes he’s not.

Mr Woodall knew alleged killer Campbell through his stepsons Kieran and Joshua – with the three men meeting while they served jail terms at HMP Birmingham. All defendants lived in Nottingham. Mr Heywood added. Mr Woodall lived ‘like a hermit’ on the industrial estate, where he had been renting a unit for about 14 years. The three murder-accused men answered no comment during their police interviews, jurors have been told. McGhee gave officers a prepared statement in which he said: “I have no knowledge of the attack on Carl Woodall and played no part in any attack upon him. I’m not responsible for his death or assaulting him. I do not know who he is.”

Tongue-in-cheek response

Hahaha!

UPDATE

Judge Gregory QC: “It will be a prison sentence, of course,”
Vitoldas Platakis, who showed not a sign of remorse…
Killed Valdamara Zemaitiene, not intending to, of course…
They were partners, so there could be no divorce…
He battered her many times, as a matter of course…
He suggested they were having intercourse?
Unintentionally killed her… my arse!.

I’d have liked to win a £260 Amazon gift card…
Thinking I might win one day, I was blinkered…
Freeing oneself from defeat can be awkward,
Success for me is like custard and mustard…
I used to think before my life was completed…
Just once, that failure be temporarily deleted,
If I was to have a win, I would be riveted!
Anyway, my hopes and prayers were not answered!
So now my wishes, not placated, I vacated…
The world of dreams lies ruined and splattered…
But not winning owt, I refuse to be angered,
I can now work on getting other hopes decluttered!

LATE SNIPPET FLASH!

Released while an investigation takes place…
A man who carries a knife, the law, is in a malaise…
Freed, no danger… what if he stabs and slays?
A lot of stabbings in Nottingham; I’m amazed,
Attacking an eighty-year-old? It dismays…
I hope he gets a good fine and serves 5000 days!

Hehehe!

TTFNski, each!

Inchcock Today: Sunday 8th May 2022: Odes & Diary

LIBERTY-GLOBAL VIRGIN MEDIA IS DOWN YET AGAIN

8 times up to now – For a total of four hours

And he can’t even get a mock-imitation internet into Nottingham to work!

Jealous? Me?  The Rich Turd

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

Sunday, 8th May 2022

Morning Ode

Waking up this morning, it was almost staggering,
No cramps in the hands or legs, free of any hurting,
I rose from the recliner; the sunshine was twinkling,
Then, I felt my stomach suddenly itching…
And found some new patches of bruising,
What, where, why or how was just bemusing…
No time to ponder on these, as I got an inkling…
At the same time, my innards started rumbling…
Get to the Porcelain Throne before there’s any leaking…
From Inchies fungal lesion, the blood was trickling!
I thought things were going so well; this it’s sickening!
To the wet room, shaving and medicating…

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

Came out of the wet room to start prepping Josie’s beef & veg chilli. To add to the meat and beans later, I got two saucepans filled, one with the chill and seasoned it, the other with the fresh leeks and mushrooms cooking. Merged them later, tasted and added a bit of chilli to them.

The timing for the need for Porcelain Throne was a good one this time; I’d just finished the prepping. No pain, no bleeding and no liquids flowing out. No pain, no bleeding and no fluids flowing out. No pain, no bleeding and no juices flowing out. What a sensational  (I don’t mean to get excited, but this was relatively rare for me).Almost a pleasure! Cleared the kitchen mess I’d made doing the prepping and took the waste bags to the doorway.

08:20hrs, a little later than usual… Oh, no, it’s the weekend, always odd hours at the weekend); the Carer, Chloe, I think, arrived. A nice gal. Did the medications, and I insisted she take some nibbles in thanks. ♥

I tested Josies’ fodder, and it tasted and looked good.

I lowered the heat to a keep-warm level and remembered to stir it regularly (mostly).

Got the computer on, and to my utter amazement, the card reader worked straight away. So I got the photo’s uploaded into CorelDraw before the connection was lost. I was not getting too hopeful that some miracle had happened and thought the SD reader had repaired itself and would work properly again. Because it hasn’t done so for many months now. But that’s a good start, having two things so greatly improved… the card reader (It failed again next time) and the Porcelain Throne Session being virtually pain and bleeding-free! Am I waffling?

Here are the photos rescued, with a bit of guessing as to when and why they were. (Dementia Doreen!)

A blood pressure reading that had gone up a bit.

Not sure what day these were taken, of course… possibly Friday or Saturday? Maybe?

Obviously, a morning check this one was. Dark without my using the flash, it seems.

See? Hehe! I can have these moments of inspiration… sometimes.

I wish I could remember which day this captured an infrequent miracle of our beloved bad parking expert, the Red-Van-Man, using a proper parking slot!

Mind you, someone had nicked his usual spot on the yellow keep-clear chevrons near the grey and white, whatever it is. Hehehe!

Don’t worry; he reclaimed it the next day!

A simple, quick meal for Inchcock here? Potatoes, tomatoes and a veggie burger, with dessert to follow. It must have been one of his staying up late nights; he’s had a lot of them recently with computer and internet problems suffering.

Aha, my Amazon delivery. Now which day was that, Friday, mayhaps?

This is of products thus delivered.

I tried one of the potato-mash pots last night, I think, and was very impressed with their taste.

Ah, the jolly Winwood Heights Red-Van-Man reclaiming his illegal, naughty parking spot.

Below: A view of the car park on Chestnut Way in front of the flats.

I’m assuming I took this photo due to the novelty of seeing a scooter parked up, all very neat and precisely done. Well done!

Ah, I’m almost sure this was Saturday night’s, nosh. Of course, my being certain is equal to an average person’s ‘I’m guessing. Hehehe! I do remember the taste of this one. Ding on mushroom pate is a treat for me, and a taste rating of 8.5/10 was granted. The only thing that was not up to scratch for me were the potatoes, which were not cooked enough! Me… getting baked potatoes wrong! I am ashamed!

I found an interesting bit on the remember notepad when I got here. As my Cataracted eyes read it… it said: “Worill conf/st bg hag” I did not have the foggiest of what it meant. Can anyone help me?

Beginning to get to me now. Pretty persistent with the clumping, banging and scratching-like noises. Any more, and I will have to retaliate with a good clouting of the overhead pipework with Metal-Micky… No, no, no, that’ll make me as ignorant and uncaring as the contemptuous, hoity-toity, sullen, toploftical Herbert is. I must not sink to his naughty-haughty ways.

I got Josies Sunday meal sorted and delivered to her door. I used one of the new porcelain bowls. A strawberry cheesecake for dessert, the usual treats for her to keep her going, and an extra dollop of chilli in another container so she can microwave it for later on whenever she fancies it.

I took her a different can of plonk today. A Woo-Woo, which is popular with the Carers. Hahaha! I don’t think she was impressed with it, so back to the G&T next week. The chilli tasted good to me as I tested it.

I went back to the flat and cleaned up the mess from the cooking. Then onto the computer and got the blog for Fri-Sat done and posted off. Facebooked, Pinterested, then WP Reader, then Comments tackled. I made a start on this blog’s layout.

This time it went down for ages. After half an hour, I gave up and got myself a quick nosh made up.

I cooked two veggie burgers and added a part-baked baguette later. Cut the bread into four pieces, halved the burgers and inserted each in a baguette slice. Took this snap of it.

Then, I added the last banana, the last strawberry cheesecake, and some pickled gherkins and took this photograph. Went into the main room, settled with the tray on my knee, put the goggle box on…

Realised I’d not put the tomatoes on the plate! I got up carefully, not wanting to drop the tray of food, which I avoided.

Went to the kitchenette fridge to get some tomatoes… Boy, what a toe-stubbing I gave myself on the wheel of the server trolley!

Then, the neurotransmitters failed, and I dropped the pack of tomatoes on the floor! Argh!

The Evening Carer arrived just after I’d done the washing up from the meal. I think it was the lovely Chloe again? But Doreen’s Dementia does play tricks with me constantly. Grumph!

But no! I’m amazed I can still do this blog. It takes a long time, though, a lot too long. With the Peripheral Neuropathy, Arthur Itis, Colin Cramps, Dizzy Dennis etc. I was well tired out by now, washed, changed, and got down in the c1968 recliner, intending to watch something or other on the telly…

But, a good thing: it was the much-needed, well overdue precious Sweet Morpheous who took quickly took control. Zzzz!

🙏 May the Spirit of Agathology Flourish 🙏

Inchcocks Local News Snippets – Issue 44⅘ths

Mud Gorning

I’d just like to explain to you what happened. I thought I’d try it in odes, but after writing the poem below and reading it, that was maybe not such a good idea. So, I’ll tell yers, abarght wot happened:

Ocado had no ~Heinz burgers in stock again, so I ordered some frozen ones from Iceland to try. Which I did and got them cooked for the suggested length of time. And them to some baked beans in the bowl…

Not one of my des photographicalisations, I grant you. On top of the beans are the two ‘NoBull’ veggieburgers. They didn’t taste anywhere as lovely as the Heinz ones, but beggars can’t be choosers. I git into them and dipped the sourdough bread in the baked seasoned beans; I thought all was very passable… An odd choice of words, considering what was to follow…

This morning, I stirred around 04:00hrs, and a sort of gurgling from my innards caught my attention. No sooner had I got to my feet to catch my balance than it became clear that I needed to make way to the wet room and Porcelain Throne as a matter of some urgency. Which I did.

The evacuated torpedo was a little softer, although a lot larger than yesterday’s, but still not messy… painful, yes! Things needed a little cleaning up, and I used the Germolene on my rear end.

Back out and to the kitchen, tittivated around the kitchenette sink area, and made a brew of Thompson Punjana tea. I went back to the front room and got the computer on… And needed to hasten back to the Porcelain Throne again. ♫It’s not unusual to pass twice ♫ for me. I was surprised when I got down on the seat; the speed and splattering sound as the mish-mash landed. A lot of cleaning up was needed this time. Washed and back to the computer.

An hour later, session three was taken. Very watery, stinky and a lot of it. Where was it coming from? Why?

Another hour and trip number four was then needed. This time, embarrassment and shame… As I was whipping down the trousers, things started of their own accord and all (nearly) liquid! What a mess!!!

The morning carer arrived, and I hoped she could smell nothing; she didn’t say owt anyway, bless her. As she left, call number five started; I was not hesitating at all, and stubbed my toe, then hit my shoulder on the door to the wet room in my haste going in. I barely made it in time. At least there was not so much of it by now; there can’t be anything left there?

An hour or so later, I found there was something left in there, all liquid. There’s something oddly disturbing about sitting there expecting a torpedo, and all one can hear is liquid shooting into the water.

Summoning number six had a bit of body, and there was much less evacuated. Also, some of the real stuff (brown… well, no, more khaki, really, trickled out – so new PPs were used again. More cleaning and medicating, and back to the computer.

Number seven was short but not sweet! The splattering of some mud had to be cleaned up, and Germolening of the poor painful piles!

The last one, number eight (an hour ago), was noisy and back to the liquid format?  Since then, no signs of the Throne being needed, but the wee-weeing has gone crazy suddenly?

Sorry, I just needed to tell someone.

ODE TO THE DAY

To listen to the radio, I need a headphone…
Can’t hear anyone when they speak on the phone,
I’m passing wind, sounds like a trombone?
The innards are churning like it was a battle zone…
Then came my first visit to the Porcelain Throne…

It was reluctant, the torpedo as hard as a stone!
Seven hours later, I need a medical arbiter…
Eight more visits, nine in total, stomach still aflutter!
The last two evacuated more as water…
My bum is sore, daren’t eat… I’ve felt a lot better…
It brewing inside again; will it ever settle?
So, should I snuff it and die, lackaday!

Remember veggie-burgers, and stay away…
Resist eating them; I ate two NoBull ones yesterday…
I shan’t be eating anymore anyway…
Pain and queasy feelings of dismay,
I may get over it, I dare say, someway…
But I do feel grotty and giddy,
Now there are bouts of going dizzy…
I’ll do my best to press on anyway,
I’ve the door wide open for a quick getaway…
Crap-it, I need another one, instantly…

Was that the ninth or tenth? I flowed cruelly…
Far less this time, or am I getting delusory?
Or should word have been delusionally?
I feel hungry but dare not try owt gastronomically!
More food, make affects the innards to react harmfully?
Making me rush to the Throne more frantically?
I feel lethargic; the knees feel like jelly?
Surely the shits like these will be temporary?

I said this ten craps ago,
What to do? I don’t know…
I’m bent forward, really low,
Must look like Quasimodo?
I speak, it sounds like Esperanto?
Even my thoughts are akimbo…
Is it safe to eat dry bread or sourdough?

The Trotskies seem like they’ve lasted for an eternity?
They could drive me back to drinking whisky…
Oh, better not, with the stomach so empty…
I’m in pain, and dizzy, aching… no, really!
Each evacuation today has shown consistency…
I pray the next one will not show urgency…
Or I’ll have to make a long-distance delivery – Hehehe!

ON WITH THE LOCAL NEWS SNIPPETS!

Treating it as a hate crime? Why? Yes, it is a hate crime, but why draw attention to it? Unless the scumbags can be prosecuted to a greater degree for hate crimes than any other, I’m all for it!

Another hate crime? What’s going on? I hope the poor devils coming to the UK, running from Putin’s bullies, don’t get such a welcome!

I assume from the facts as I read last week that Nottingham has more students pro-rater than any other City. Indeed, that has been taken into consideration… or has it?

Same comment as above?

So, virtually attempting to murder police officers, endangering members of the public, and he gets 12 months in prison? Grrr! The namby-pamby legal system is no deterrent at all. He’ll likely still get his drugs and booze sneaked in by his friends…

I wonder if Russia can offer them any jobs?

That should be knife found, another cock-up!

I am not complaining about Van Der Merwe getting a decent sentence, but so should Barrass! Four years and eight months. I concur with this sharp sentence. But why do attempted murderers and the Barrass above get one year for trying to kill police officers and putting the lives of the innocent at risk? Not to mention his drug offences, stabbing, firearms and woman battering qualities?

Price must be laughing his head off! 18 Months of Community order? What’s that, then? 80hrs of unpaid work?

A bit embarrassing that!

Parole Board members… don’t forget to give him full remission!

Sad.

If it’s true, fair enough!

Well done to the private group who caught him!

Angeringly sad.

Bit of decent speedy job done there by the police!

Keeping my determination not to win!

LATE EXTRA!

Trust is something we do all the time without thinking. Doctors (Harold Shipman), Nurses (Beverley Allitt), and policemen (Wayne Couzens) are professionals that we rely on, trust! We can guarantee that the Parole Board will release convicted murderers to kill again! The facts are, we can never know for sure…

Ending on a personal note…

I’ve found the legend for the local postcode crime map.

Pink: Theft from a person
Dark Pink: Shoplifting
Dark Grey: Vehicle Crime
Light Grey: Violence & Sexual Offence
Light Green: Other crime
Dark Green: Drugs
Mid Blue: Antisocial
Light Blue: Bicycle theft
Orange: Burglary
Mustard: Possession of a weapon
Teal: Public order
Greeny-Blue: Public order.

Bearing in mind along with the Cataracts, Glaucoma, and Saccades, I also have achromatopsia (colour blindness), my choice of colours may not be of much help. Tsk!

A lot less crime in my area this time. But I know that the youths breaking into my flat did not make it onto the map? How many others are missing?

Inchcock Today: Decision-Making Ode

Decision-Making Ode

To give up and let whatever will be, be,
Inchcock needs help, an advisee…
His confidence is low, can’t hear nor see correctly,
Sorting timing and transport problems presently…
Memory and mind blanks are persistently…
Worryingly scary words, guilt at being so portly?
Can’t communicate… he’ll need help shortly…

He’d like assistance without condescension…
Problems with his hobbling obamulation,
Going out? His last two trips caused panic hortation,
He wee-weed himself, oh, vociferation!

Staying in now, he expects a call from the hospital,
Missing it could be fatal… to the depression, he’d hurtle!
His mind’s confused; it does justle and jostle …
Poor old sausage… he worries more than a little!

Before the stroke, he was no mathematician…
Now he needs the help of a physician…
What can he do? He struggles in making a decision!
Mind blanks and tumbling seem his new religion?

Appointment with the can’t test him yet, optician,
Cataract ops first to correct his vision.
Same with his local dentician…
Good job, he hasn’t got a cosmetician! (Haha!)

Small print from the NHS and bank in unison…
This means letters and texts have little comprehension,
Causing the lad even more worry and tension,
He really needs looking at by a diagnostician!

He drew his fretting to the attention of the warden,
Feeling embarrassed, to him begging, is alien…
Warden Deana arrived for a helping me out session,
Who arranged transport for me? My thanks and veneration!.

Then, he felt cared for and cheerier, no question!
So, time to fret over other things, like his fundoplication,
shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley, Little Inchies Fungal lesion…
And the Cataracts forthcoming double operation…
Hid new rear-end boils, a painful conglomeration…
Also, Inchcock’s ear-holes blockage and tintinnabulation…
Worry about his glaucoma and banks documentation,
Not to mention his bank accounts dwindling emancipation!

Deana was his Carpathia, saving lives on the Titanic,
Although Inchie still looks like he’s going brassic…
Her help today was something of a tonic…
His life no longer seemed so chronic!

He even started whistling, although not acoustic,
It’s never been his most vital attribute, singing…
Then again, he’s always been gently altruistic,
Soft and daft as a brush from a yearling…

Inchcock’s Educationing

He missed out on schooling and educationing.
He’s never grasped algebra, geometry or arithmetic,
Yet he’s always had a yearning, desire for learning…
As a lad, he’d double pneumonia, constantly sick…
I don’t know how he ever made a living?
He was well-known as a bit of a schmendrick!
Always getting beaten up or something…
Mother ever being taken down to local nick…
He was spotty, with the littlest ever ding-a-ling…
He took a lot of verbal and physical stick,
So it didn’t bother him that he couldn’t sing.

He coped with thumps and insults from many a bully?
He was a whimp who never answered aggressively…
He plodded on, hiding from being treated abusively…
There was little he ever achieved, ruefully…
Scared of water, he played hooky every Thursday…

That was the swimming lesson day, nobody noticed…
For two years of playing hooky, he was not missed,
Dad took him to the fair and visited a hypnotist…
I think it should have been to a psychiatrist,
The 11-plus, Mummy was on the run, so that he missed,
In meaningless employment, he languished,
But he grew up the shabbiest; he became a motorcyclist!
When old enough, he became an alcoholic, always pissed!
Oddly enough, it’s similar now… he’s still not missed,
He wears protection pants; he’s pissed at always pissing!

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

Aha, got some photos uploaded!

I believe this was Wednesday’s nosh. Of microwave veggie sausages, disappointing Icelands crispy chips (That weren’t), and red and orange tomatoes. Not too bad a plateful. Taste: 6.6/10.

Wednesday’s sunset. I’m finding it hard to stay up for the later evenings now the clocks have been forwarded (I’ve even got all on mine done now… Haha!) Variations on a theme, I’m calling it.

Thursday morning rising.

Wen to make a brew of Glengettie. And I spotted from the kitchenette window the rather heavy rain that was raining down,

I took this shot through the narrow bottom pane of glass, camera up against the window. Gave it a different aspect… which reminded me of Grizelda (Slight movement in the lower regions).

Took the last two a few hours later on Thursday.

Incidentally, at this point, I took my eleventh wee-wee of the morning. Cor, blimey!

Three more wee-wees and an hour or so later, I went to mash the second mug (Thompsons’ Punjana this time) of tea. I snapped this one of the houses in front of the tower block.

I must say, it came out reasonably well. An accurate representation of the local dwelling at the front of Woodthorpe Court flats.

The rain was a lot lighter at last, as it shimmers on the roadway of what I think is Elmswood Gardens… a sort of modern-day Coronation Street… perhaps not!

Afternoon Chestnut Way ends car park investigation. The parkers, the red-van-man, continued with his fear of white guidelines for parking between, then I went to the kitchenette to assess the choice of vehicle colours.

The evening Carer arrived, treats were offered. Got ready to get my head down and took what I guesstimate as my 24th wee-wee of the day. Hope things calm down soon!

TTFN.

Inchcock’s Local New Snippets – Issue 11⅘ths

At this time of web-searching for Nottingham Crimes & News, things seem slow. I apologise for the scarcity of murders, muggings, shoplifting, wife/partner beatings, pickpocketing, and attacks on police officers in this Issue of Inchcocks Local News Snippets. Later I had one more go…


14 months for dangerous driving,
4 months for driving while disqualified,
Four months for theft… sentencing softening?
Licence endorsed, driving without insurance, denied!
14 months for aggravated vehicle taking…
From driving for 33 months, driving disqualified,
Alongside 22-month sentencing…

Of which he will serve half in custody?
This convoluted sentencing confuses me?
Just when will he actually be set free?
Was this adjudicator just a big softy?


Mental Health! This shows how complex the job is for professionals to get right – each sufferer, possibly everyone, will have different lapses and ailments, not easy! There were no sarkies on this one after I looked up what the Priory Hospital was all about…


New Covid cases confirmed this last seven days…
For Nottingham and UK, leave me in a haze,
We are over the worst, getting better; an expert says…
Another said Nottingham cases are peaking on Monday!
You just can’t trust what they say nowadays!


Will Mr Wallace get locked away?
The Law is an Ass, just to paraphrase,
In prison now, they can order takeaways!
Mayhaps a Pizza, and hold the mayonnaise?
The police caught him, so they deserve some praise…


I, too, find loud music making neighbours annoying!
While the guests are drug and alcohol refuelling!
Partying, singing, drunk and revelling…
They think their noise is nothing but trifling…
They’ll be too intoxicated for any canoodling,
Then they may start fighting and brawling…
But working neighbours’ patience has a ceiling…
And revenge will have no curtailing!


Spoilt Brat!


I hate violence of any kind, especially against someone or thing weaker than the attacker. Whatever this dog did to annoy its owner, what he did is disgusting! The poor frightened thing! I hope the RSPCA can catch and convict the scumbag!


When sentenced, they said his smile was wide!
Well, it’ll be easier for him to get drugs inside…
His time in nick will make life simplified,
No need to go on the run; his worries have died…
Cheap drugs via visitors… sarcasm implied…
They’ll supply free meals, salads, pizzas and fried…
Doctor, dentist, I find to be undignified…
I can’t get my cataracts done outside…
Should I commit a crime and lose my pride?
Then I’ll be able to see things, with my eyes open wide!!!


Ah! Now I’m getting to the nitty-gritty crime!

I read some rubbish from a criminologist,
Who should have been a craniologist…
We should put fewer people away, they insist!
Studying criminals? Pointless, they should desist!
They’d learn more helpful stuff being an acarologist!
Then, have themselves tested by a psychophysiologist!


Can’t find what he was sentenced to, other than breaching a restraining order? I’ll do another search… Nope, can’t find owt? M<maybe he was already in the nick?


And to end…

Evening all!

Inchcocks Local News Snippets – With Odes – Part 854⅐th

A surprising jump in numbers, innit?
If it keeps on rising, we could be in the shit!
I hope the old face-masks still fit…
I bet folks have lost their vaccination chit?
Again the NHS will reach its capacity limit!

Sorry, I’ve gone off subject cause I’m frit…
Putin’s taking our minds off of it?
Puckin’ Putin makes me want to vomit!
We can name-call, posture and discredit…
I fear it’s only Putin that will profit!

Could we not put these animals in the army again?
Sentence them, and send them to Ukraine?
Arm them with their own machetes and Dunblane?
Hopefully, there they will learn how to die immame!
Decency and empathy to them is impossible to train,
Violence, hatred, bullying… that’s their skills and game,
They deserve to be at the bottom of the food chain!

Why do violent attackers get freed so soon, just asking?
Considering the reoffending rate… it’s amazing?
If they are caught, sometimes culprits are escaping?
They laugh at the courts, a slapped wrist; Horrifying!

A 21-year-old accepted to become a student?
Do they not have some sort of appraisement,
Any checks to find mental dysfunctions impediments?
To protect real students from any imperilment?
The end of appeasement is needed, that’s evident!.

So much nasty violence now, I’m feeling so languescent,
At the shortages of any youths that are moral and decent!
Gangs, muggers, knives… are they scared or always temulent?
Or is it me who’s scared and judged things misdempt?.

Another woman and child basher, his name, Mark Place,
Looks like a natural bully, do you see his face?
I reckon he’ll get out and strike again, as always…
Domestic violence, I knew well in my younger days…
I suppose this is why this irks me more in some ways…
In clink, he can play pool for free on the green blaise…
If the cook serves him ketchup for mayonnaise,
He might try to strangle him, and put him in a daze?
Then his pathetic sentence, they’ll reappraise?.

♫A policeman’s lot is not a happy lot♫, they sangeth…
As more violent East European gangs approacheth…
The bobbies of today get little help from the judges…
Youths stealing cars, on drugs… it beginneth…
Lawlessness, can no one else seeth?
Bobbies being smashed in the teeth?
More and more roaming, violent gangs triumph!
Ten-year-old truants, on drugs and drinketh?
Murderers freed early, to kill again as they pleaseth?
Politicians lying, cheating as they requireth?
Teachers stabbed while trying to teacheth?
For the future of Britain… I do really feareth!

Desperate times for the countries diminishing law,
Parole boards are freeing killers to kill more!
We hear little nowadays from the House of Lords?
Cutting the cost of imprisoning, they applaud…
Well to save money… are they all blinkered?
Save victims! Send the violent away… with a chessboard!
A ludo game, and cut back on their food, you coward!
Luxuries, mobiles, cocaine they can get, but I can’t afford!
Can’t get to see my doctor, or mend my motherboard…
A convicted murderer can get both – and kill again afterwards!
Will we ever see proper justice? I’ll be beggared!

Andrious Sidlauskas: Lithuanian immigrant jailed.
Happening a lot innit?

Just thought I’d update you on how my luck is going…
Well, with excitement, I’m not exactly glowing…
3 houses to find… it must be easier going…
To find just one, than to miss them all as I keep doing…
I used to find this free game compelling,
Now, it’s just embarrassing! Hehehe!

.

.

Inchcock’s Local News Snippets – With Odeing

Crime in Nottingham, enough to send you demented…
Oh, Dementia Doreen already has my mind fragmented,
Price rises on everything; I’m genuinely wherrited!
Compassion, empathy and caring have been disrupted…
No, better words are demolished and corrupted!

Police Assault Increase

Different targets, to beat-up… it’s the truth…
This will please the thirteen-year-old youths,
Who attacked and knocked out a coppers’ tooth!
Or the twelve-year-old, driving a car into a flatfoot…
A sixteen-year-old stabbed and kicked an officer, to boot!

From giving adequate sentencing, the law is abstaining…
A murderer arrested gave the officer a bludgeoning…
However, the criminal is not complaining…
He got his early release after campaigning…
Our legal system needs condemning!

Another murder?
This doesn’t inspire…
Things are getting direr…
Death by ed by fire?
Killed by a burglar?
Mayhaps a genocider?
Emotions and fear, a quagmire!
Crime, accident? I’ll hangfire

Arson?

A requirement to do two thirds?
Gawd, our judges, are soft turds!

Huh!

Top report on Covid, +22,8% new cases over the last fortnight,
Another peak will put us all in a plight…
Bottom report 40% increase… we are in the kite?
Anti-maskers again ready to fight!.

More policemen injured working,
Courts still spanking wrists, befuddling!
Got bail, free, to attack again – backpedalling?
For the police, this must be very galling!

Words fail me!

Violence is rampant now…
Take that, thump, kick kapow!
Instead of having a pow-wow,
From Newcastle to Hounslow…
Guns, knives, and fist blow…
Last week, burglars used a bow & arrow!

Was this caused by sleeping with the wrong fellow?
Or did too much-shoplifted alcohol freely flow?
Did someone not return a borrowed wheelbarrow?
A dispute over unshared winnings at Bingo?
Did one think it right to whistleblow?
Did one pass on a disease, like, impetigo?
Mayhaps one stood on the others’ hammertoe?
But I really don’t want to know…
Far too much violence and aggro!

Yep!

Inchcock Today: Local News Snippets – Part 11¼

Inchcock Today: Local News Snippets – Part 11¼

Made this graphicalisation for a bit of a laugh… well laugh then!

On with the genuine stuff then…

The driver was three times over the drink-drive limit,
Carted off to the station, gave him tea and a biscuit,
His licence he will no doubt temporarily disinherit?
His fourth-time drink driving – Goddammit!
He should have had just one alcohol-free gin and tonic!

Came from Birmingham for a night out?
We’ve already got many a local lout…
Imported turds we can do without…
Did he come to do a burglary or knockabout?
Ahmed Kalif, shouldn’t he be tea-total and devout?
But Christian, church, kids also need to keep an eye out…
Especially with the boy-liking Vicars lurking about!

Cockroaches, beetles? To be fair…
Didn’t they find some once at the Mayfair,
The big posh one, in Leicester Square?
Hong Kong restaurant, they found cat food there!
And Harrods’, they found maggots in an armchair…
Still, they let him stay open; that’s extremely fair…
There’s some logic in these actions… somewhere!

A year, suspended sentencing from Mcadam, it’s nowt!
The sentence deciding Mcadam is the bigger lout!
What made him so weak and chicken out?
I bet the lady is now scared and will freak out…
Maybe it’s the same pub in which they both hang out?
Both of them are alcoholics?… well, I have some doubt!

On a lighter note, my luck’s still out!

Well, effective sentencing is something new…
And well and truly, cheer-making, although overdue,
To the judge, I feel the need to say thank you…
Ah, I reread this, tried in Derby, you see…
Had it been Nottingham, they’d likely have walked free!.

Drunken Animal!

Ah, a new Coronavirus overview…
But figure one can easily misconstrue,
Are they genuine, real, untainted, true?
At least they claim the virus is lessening; phew!.

So, the police have £360,000 worth of cannabis accrued,
By a cunning tip-off, that should be reviewed…
I think it is cheaper and less hullabaloo…
For competing gangs to split on another, it’s true…
Then arrange to attack them… when the police will do?

Scum of the planet, beyond humanity and saving,
What can be done to tame these shits needs probing,
They survive on our fear, robbing, stabbing, thieving!
These animals, beyond any respect, acquiescing!
No good the gallows, or electrocution reintroducing,
Or corporal punished embracing…
They can’t lose in my experience,
But on them both, I wouldn’t mind peeing!

Still not enough for potential murderers, though,
They’ll all be out in a few years, so…
They’ll be buying more guns and ammo…
They’re all empathically dead, fallow…
Full of greed and bullying mojo!

NEW BREAKING NEWS – EXTRA!

Cost of supermarket staples up 8% in a year across Asda, Morrisons, Sainsbury’s and Tesco

Just thought I’d end with a bit of good news!

Inchies Friday Diary: Festivities, gaiety and other fibs! Hehe!

Fort Thomas News Exclusive!

After several years of collecting scientifically challenging reference books, Professor Billum and his partner HRH Lisa, who are now stuck indoors due to the snow, are tackling the job of reducing the number of books in his basement library. He hopes to make room to expand his laboratory and thus, make more room for his medical experiments. Inchcock (rear) said; the task is phenomenal.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Inchies Friday Diary
Jollities, Festivities, Gaiety and other fibs!

I fang you! A decent kip for once; I reckon I only jumped awake about six times overnight. Not good, of course, but better than the preceding three evenings efforts.

By the time I’d clambered tottering dangerously out of the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly-beige-coloured, not-working, haemorrhoid-testing, rickety recliner and caught my balance, I realised how evil the eyes were this morning. So, first job the drops, let them settle, then put some of the sprays on them. After this, they were no worse, and maybe I imagined it but seemed a little better than when I woke.

The ablutionalisationing was tackled first, even before thinking of making a brew of Glengettie tea (Worrying that?). It might be the fact that each time I woke up during the night, spongy emissions of wind were evacuating out of the rear end, and Reflux Valve Roger was sticking a bit, then bursting forth, painfully for a minute or two? But, I felt a little stinky, I thought – mayhaps the rear end emissions were going on while I was asleep?

I got inside the wet room, and the mind meandered off on its own. I got the shower going! Boing! I totally forgot what the time was, and after getting the teeth done and shaving with only two tiny minor nicks, thus assuming a Smug-Mode… I still didn’t recognise what I’d done at that time, and I merrily whistled (Which is getting harder each time I lose another tooth) and sang gayly to myself as I started doing the medicationalisationings.

MedPhorpainWhich soon put an end to the Smug-Moding, whistling and singing! As usual, I got the potentially most painful job of cleaning and creaming Little Inchies fungal lesion out of the way first. Agony! There are no pain or problems with the Saccades eye drops, Harold’s Haemorrhoids cleaning and creaming, ears oiling, or Arthur Itis Phorpain gelling.

As I was about to increase my level of smugness, it dawned on what time it was… and I’d just used the noisy shower – Guilt overerflowethed!

A Carer arrived, name? Erm… Gorrit, Cassie! She was to take the laundry for me on Fridays, starting today. I had got the bag and capsules softener all ready for her. She did the medicationings, and I treated her to some nibbles and a drink, and off she went.

Onto the computer to finalise yesterdays blog and post it. A message came in on the mobile, it was from Iceland Foods… Ah, I hear you now asking – Why did the pillock have another order from Iceland? The silly old goat had one yesterday?

Ahem! Well, that would be due to my Wednesday and Thursday’s Whoopsiedangleplopping. I made some cheesy potatoes for Richard and got his visiting day wrong. So, I gave them to Valerie, who came. Then Thursday, when Richard was calling, I made another dollop of cheesy potatoes for Richard again – then, I had no potatoes left. Hahaha! So I made a minimum order for today to get some more spuds for myself to have. That’s about right, I think.

The rain started to fall, but not too heavily. Then began to get a little threateningly darker out there.

I took this picture from inside the balcony, too wet to open a window.

Shortly, the Intercom rangeth. The Iceland delivery had arrived. I pressed him in, and I hoped it would not be the same driver as yesterday, or he might think me a bit of an idiot having a dirty-great big order, then another on the following day. He’d be right if he did, by the way!

He carried the bag of spuds separately, only two carrier bags, and he took them into the kitchen for me. Haha! I wish the bloke yesterday had taken the eight bags into the kitchenette for me.

I thanked him and let him choose which can of plonk he fancied, and off he trotted with a cheery farewell.

I’m glad I remembered to get the drain-unblocker. Not a lot to sort out this time. I got some cheapo Beef Jerky to go with the freebies to make the minimum order. Oh, and some Cadbury mini rolls.

Sister Jane rang, or did I ring her? One or the other. Dementia Doreen again. Total blank on what we spoke of… indeed am I thinking of yesterday? Sad, innit?

I then rang Obergruppenfürheress, Warden and Ballet Dancer, Deana. Not seen her for a while. The gal was at home. She’d tested positive for SARS-CoV-2 and had been isolating. She hopes to be back on Monday. I said I was ringing to let you know you hadn’t collected your treat bag this week – now I knew why! Said they would keep until Monday. Haha! Nobody tells us owt, do they?

And an hour or so later, the door chime rang out its’ ♫Oh, Susana♫ chime, and in walked Carer Valerie. She had collected my washing for me, and she’d brought it up to me. Bless her cotton socks! She said she’s made sure they were dry enough for me.

So, I got off of the blogging and sorted out the clothes. By gum, that bag holds a lot of stuff. Hehe!

I got in a pickle, found the coat hangers, put some on the door, and spent a good while faffing about. Then realised I was not doing this in a planned, smooth way… Hahaha! 

I meant to put all the rousers together on a rack and jumpers shirts on the other.

Which seemed like a logical thing to do.

However, Dementia Doreen had other ideas for me. I ended up with a mixture of trews and jammies on one rack and trews, jumpers and shirts on the other. Ah, well, at least I got them hung so the creases can fall out a bit.

The toploftical, unforthcoming, ascetic, eremitic, aloof, sniffy attituded Herbert had been giving me some tapping on and off for an hour or so. Now, he’s just gone into Turbo-Tapping and Banging mode! What a Git! Mind you, let’s not forget my Whoopsiedangleplop with using the shower early in the day? The difference, I think, is snot-bag superior Herbert enjoys doing it on purpose?

I made a rare mug of Thompsons Punjana tea. As the rain stopped and the sun fought its way through to shine on Inchcock Towers… well, Woodthorpe Court then. Hehehe! I grabbed the Canon camera and took this photograph of the view.

Then the hungers-pangs began, and my desire for some more cheesy baked potatoes overcame me. I got up some steam (I was starting to feel a bit weary) and started to prepare the third on the trot (4th Counting Carers Richards and Valerie’s) Cheesy Baked Potatoes meal!

Cheesy Potato Nosh – Flavour Rating 9.3/10!

Note: Only the four half spuds? No, not self-control; I made eight and kept three to cool and have later on (Cunning?). I would have had four, but I dropped one when putting it from oven to pot – it splattered onto the floor and a slipper, which both needed attention, cleaning sorting out. I may have muttered something along the lines of “Oh, bother?” Then, I feasted on the meal, put the tray on the Ottoman, passed wind and belched… and Flake-Out-Time!

Herbert started clanking and clunking away again, and I woke to his mechanical overture. Hehe! Pig!

Luckily it didn’t last too long this time. And I drifted off again. To be woken by the tune of “♫ Oh, Susana… ♫ chiming out. The evening Carer had arrived. She was in a rush, so no chinwagging was permitted on this occasion. Off she trotted, bless her.

I spotted the meal things on the Ottoman, and I took them to be washed and put away. Noticing the lack of wonderful sun-setting after three days of gorgeous one, I stood and had a perusing of the evening sky. I realised that even with the absence of the usually vivid colours for the last few days anyway, there was still a beauty to be beheld.

Getting daft or soft on my old age, or not?

I went onto the computer to work on the blog and visited Facebook, the TFZ and Winwood Heights sites.

Went on CorelDrawing; Herbert was doing the odd banging about, so it was not until gone midnight before I got my head down; off I went and slept a bit better, only about five shooting awakes.

ODE OF THE DAY

Wants (Peace) & Not Wants (Herbert)

Cataract operation, before it’s too late – appealing!
A friend with time for long chinwagging,
Someone who doesn’t hate or finds me appalling…
But I don’t blame them, and that’s a bit galling!
One tablet to stop my shaking and trembling…
The ability to once more try cartwheeling?
The willpower for me to stop earwigging,
A better than Warfarin pill, stop the haemorrhaging,
But most of all, I’d want, after some deep thinking…
The end of people, domineering,
And those who go around sneering,
Those who cannot care have empathy are non-obliging…
The know-alls who go around rubbishing…
Rushing, superior in outlook, verbally scathing…

Compassionless animals, one lives above me,
Above my little independent living flat, you see…
I nicknamed him Herbert, and he’s not trouble-free…
He makes noise at all hours, sometimes the whole day,
He’ll start again today, I guarantee…
He acts superior, and nonchalantly,
But, the things he’s roisterously making go to charity…
The housing officer says no cause to moan, apparently,
So I won’t, or might lose the flat, alackaday!
So untouchable Herbert will carry on noisily…
He’ll keep waking me at night, arbitrarily,
I must resist responding early morningly…
What can be done redeemingly?
Two wrongs don’t make a right, seemingly…

KEEP SAFE IN THE SNOW
Keep safe all of you, affected by the snowstorms please,
If you can, avoid driving and soirees,
Polish your ottomans and tallboys?
And for even more joys…
Try canned beans and saveloys?
Sew the missing button on your corduroys?
Have warming wine delivered by Pomeroys?
Play great music, possibly by the Beachboys?
But don’t contact the killjoys!