Chinwag With Alto-Ego Inchie!

Confounding Confusionableitis!

Time for a proper chinwag with Alto-Ego Inchie. Who I consider as much a mental ailment like all the other medical ones. I am determined to free myself of his persistent, nagging interference in my thoughts. His mission it seems to me is to make me feel guilty, inadequate, inconsequential, ineffective, and insignificant.

Which he has in fact already successfully achieved.

Although, possible beyond the understanding of anyone normal mortal, and maybe anyone who does not have a cruel, Alto-Ego, nagging away, analysing, mocking and criticising your every decision, and choice, one makes or decides on.

This natter took place last night as I lay in bed, with the notepad near to hand, and took place in several episodes! Sleep was certainly not an option for me…

Inchcock Opens The Chinwag Session:

Inchcock: I can sense your sneering and contempt Inchie, and I have to say you are a bane!
Inchie: Huh! Do yer fink I like being stuck in your brain!

Inchcock: Then go away, stop giving me mental pain!
Inchie: What the hell do think it’s like in here? In your dithering, feckless, vacillant thought-filled indecisive brain?

Inchcock: That’s it, go on, put me down, mock again…
Inchie: From human contact, you should refrain…

Inchcock: You said that when we last spoke, now again?
Inchie: Oh, a comeback from Inchcock, I’ve heard better insults from solid lepidomelane!

Inchcock: Erm… lepidomelane? Wot’s that then? Explain!
Inchie: When you read fings, facts you should retain!
Inchcock: Did I read about lepidomelane?
Inchie: Yer! In 1963, yer pea brain!
Inchcock: I’ve got Vascular Dementia, mental pain…
Inchie: Oh shurrup! Abarght time yer took yer Novocain?
Inchcock: You’ve changed the topic, confused me, yer know that makes me go brain-lame!
Inchie: Course I do, you pillock, I’ve had enough of this game…
Inchcock: What games that’s then, are you on cocaine?
Inchie: Yer coming owt with the insults tonight Inchcock! Enough! This topic’s getting too urbane…
Alright, I’ll piss off then!

Inchcock almost nodded off, when Inchie Returned!

Inchie: Hey-up, I’m calling back in defiance!
Inchcock: Why? Have no cognisance!
Inchie: Thought I might catch you on the loo, by chance…
Inchcock: You ‘horrible scumball! You no allegiance?
Inchie: Allegiance? Any idea wot that means?
Inchcock: I learnt that when in my teens!
Inchie: Huh! Gonna give me more gibberish?
Inchcock: Well, thanks for your pertinent attendance…
Inchie: Eh? Playing tricks? Do you mean good riddance?
Inchcock: Well, yes, I do, I’ve had enough of your cruel words!
Inchie: Wot, me? You’re the one spouting insulting words…
Inchcock: Am I? I was just making some lemon curds…
Inchie: What out off… Turds?

Inchcock ignored the Alta-Ego – With Difficulty Mind

He mellowed a little, and went deep in thought, until Inchie returned, and was ready to mislead the interloper…

Inchie: Wotsup, dogbreath? Pissed-off again, blockhead?
Inchcock: Oddly I thought that is what would be said…
Inchie: What’s yer game, that was said well mannered?
Inchcock: It’s up to us both, kill this mutual arguing, time to get together, and start apologising… not endangered!
Inchie: What? Am I being outmanoeuvred?
Inchcock: No mate! My wish is for you to get scunnered!
Inchie: You mean like, we get together and schnockered?
Inchcock: That’s it, we can have our relationship bettered!
Inchie: Summat wrong ‘ere… you and me, get stonkered?
Inchcock: Yea… let our animosity be withered!
Inchie: Why? you dare not… your lily-livered!

Inchcock: Hahaha! Such a poetic turn of phrase!
Inchie: Well, I’m not used to giving praise…
Inchcock: Oh, it’s easy, ns so many ways…
Inchie: Worra yer mean?
Inchcock: We could take time out, play the Steinways…
Inchie: Yer…
Inchcock: Go on holiday, as stowaways?
Inchie: Oh…
Inchcock: Have a drink, see where our hands stray…
Inchie: Hang on, are you after me body?
Inchcock: No, you haven’t got one, although you can have some control over mine, anyway ♥,
Inchie: Not ‘aving that… but then I couldn’t… could I?
Inchcock: not sure, but I’d risk it if you will. I’m free on Wednesday?
Inchie: Erm… I’m not used to this, who’s gonna pay?
Inchcock: You pay in enjoyment, we both can on the day?
Inchie: Hey, hey, hey… Could we just stop arguing, and have a laze?
Inchcock: Certainly, and we could have a few hoorays?
Inchie: I feel my emotions coming ablaze…
Inchcock: I could bring some bottles… Chardonnays?
Inchie: Surely it can’t be done? No ways!
Inchcock: You Pratt! You’re only in my mind! Best then if we return to our mental, non-verbal affrays!

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Inchcock was arrested and rushed to the Psychiatric Hospital by paramedics, after being caught making rigorous love to his non-existent Alto Ego Inchie, in the balcony of his flat this evening.

The Doctor told the Inchcock Today reporter: “We managed to stop his weeing with excitement, and finally convinced him was not having sex for the first time in his life. He is currently being treated for Psychotic Manic Depression.

Luckily the Doctor on duty had treated Mr Inchcock several times before over the years and had a straight jacket to hand.

Inchcock is expected to be released in a few years, providing he doesn’t kick the bucket earlier! (He’s getting on a bit)

Part of the Inchcock Make ‘Em Laugh Series

Plans For My Next Failed Escape Bid!

Last evening, my beautiful Caring Carer, Julia and I made a plan to enable my escape from this lockdown in the flat, and get outside, and have a hobble into Sherwood! Thus I can avoid the Obergruppenfhüreress’s and Lap-Top Dancers, Deana and Julie, on my way out!

After Julia had tended to my medicationalisationing, she asked me the questions about what meds I’d taken other the those on the list, filled in her report (That’s the one that no one has ever read yet!). Checked on the supply of drugs in the kitchenette drawer, she explained her plan for my escape from the lockdown. Julie departed, taking the waste bags with her, to the rubbish chute for me. Bless her cotton socks! And leaving an elderly dithering tenant, feeling sad at her departure. (I always think this way when a good, kind carer goes me, Tsk!) I decided to write down the scheme for Wednesdays Great Escape to Sherwood! I had a sense, a feeling, that Julia’s ideas were going to be so doable and workable.

Unfortunately, within seconds of the Carers’ departure, I had an unwelcome ‘Haze-Over’ attack. Not sure how long it lasted, but I seem to have lost possibly a couple of hours of memory. (Although they did partly return in the morning, which is not a rarity) Later on, I found myself sitting in the recliner with the TV on. With crumbs over my large blobby-like belly (bits of Twiglets in the folds? As I woke and returned to life, of sorts, I was feeling great! Almost clear-headed. And I soon worked out that I still had time to catch the bus down to Sherwood… But, no!

Closing down the computer to get things ready for my breakout, I saw several emails coming in. One from Amazon, concerning two deliveries, the one in the photo was the tracking of the Morrison delivery, which I was confident that I’d made it for next week… It was apparently just a few minutes away from being delivered. The other regarding deliveries that are due tomorrow… This put the kybosh on my escaping today and now tomorrow as well! Obviously, another Whoopsiedangleplop on my behalf!

Hello, the delivery is here now… I’ll be back…

Hehehe! I’m back! A young lady delivered the four parcels of fodder, putting them through the doorway for me. I fell in love with her straight away, had it not been that I am about 60 years older than what she looked, six inches shorter, wore PPs, was bald, sight-impaired, deaf, and nearly as attractive to women as Lillie Savage… I momentarily thought about asking her if she fancied a cuddle, massage or petting… but I thought better of it no point in risking prison at my time of life.

I thanked her, and off she shot. I took the bags through to the kitchenette, and I popped into the wet room for a wee-wee.

And this one was one of the worst I’ve suffered for flipping weeks, or even longer!

I tore at my clothing to get at Little Inchie, dropped the trees on the floor, and prepared for the torrent to come…

But it didn’t! I could feel the urine building up increasingly more painful pressure… all I could do was wait for it to do its own thing – any pushing from me was just unbearably hurtful, so I waited…

And waited a little longer. Sang a song, whistled, prayed… Eventually, it felt like a couple of days later, the tsunami evacuated!  Agony! Whoosh! Splashback like never before, I had to take a shower to clean up my anaemic looking flabby body and then get the wet room disinfected.  I now seriously fear the next wee-wee session! But the relief when it had finally passed almost sent me dizzy, if that’s the word.

Now, having spent an hour or so weeing and sorting things out, I realised that the frozen food in with the other groceries will not be frozen any longer! I hastened to get at it as quickly as I could to get in the freezer.

I gave the big toe a bashing against the server trolley wheel – Now I’m getting annoyed with things! 

However, I continued to get the purchases away, starting with the now unfrozen frozen foods. Luckily, there were only two frozen items, well, previously frozen items to go in the freezer.  The now liquid in the bag Twister lollies, and a box of beef in gravy, I poured them into the freezer… A joke there, did you see that? Despite such a bad morning, I’m intent on keeping up my pecker! Although, I am not too confident of my chances after the next wee-wee arrives. Ahem!

The sight of the ready-made meals brought a warm glow to my stomach. WW Chillie and wedges, Roast Vegetable Risotto, and the Chicken dinner substituted with Beef & Black beans, Shepherd’s pie, and Creamy Chicken & Leek. Even though they had not got any of those, I ordered, and they were all substituted. Morrison Cottage pie, by Kirsty’s red potato Cottage Pie (might be nice that?).

Not that I seemed bothered this time, the memory of the disastrous tsunami-wee-out now! Imagine that happening when I was out and about! The thought of it makes me shudder!

Haha! The fridge stocks are looking healthier now, anyway. Milk, bread in the freezer, I’ll certainly not starve for a bit.

Took this shot of the end car park through the balcony window. It was far too windy for me to open the window.

Oh, oh, I want another pee! With apprehension, I took it. Well, well well, what a difference that was! Heavy flow, but nothing oke as vicious as the last one was! I was delighted with the improvement and almost total lack of any pain. Shame about the lengthy PMAD (Post-Micturition-After Dribbling).

Views From The Kitchenette Window

I viewed the colourful evening skies,

Somehow they appeared to be wise,

And I observed clouds like eyes,

Winter’s coming; I’ll need to acclimatise!

The photo above, lips and two eyes, large in size,

Those clouds make me want to enigmatise?

I find myself also wanting to somatise,

Natures beauty makes me realise…

Mankind knows nothing, weather forecasts-wise,

I see amazing skies, from this flat in the highrise,

These views make me want to prioritise…

To stop, look, dream, and rhapsodise!

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Hunger Pangs Satisfied

Made some cheesy instant mash potato and two beef pasties and plated them. Dolloped some Hickory Smoked BBQ sauce and a few slices of bread. A pot of custard & jelly (Classy, innit?), and another pot of lemon mousse. Nowt fanciful on that plate, but I ate the lot. Taste Rating 7.2/10.

Part Of The Nottingham Lads True Tales Of Woe Series