I’m Determined to destroy Depression!

I’m Determined to destroy Depression!

2Tue08a

I decided, in a dream, I had yesternight,
Depression, I’ll resist, beat and outfight,
I must be strong, determined, not contrite,
I’ll be honest with myself, not like a Blairite,
My approach, will-power, must be definite!
I’ll have courage, like a brave medieval Knight,
And continue to show my vigour and fight,
Although my confidence may be finite,
This misery, I will surely try to expedite,
I must give this depression, no respite,
Ridding myself of this soul-destroying plight,
Who knows if I can, I just possibly might?
Then hopefully, I’ll get some sleep tonight,
And for supper, I can have some toasted Marmite!

Created during an aberrant spell of semi-confidence.

No Brexiteers were harmed during the production of this waffle!

Coronavirus Calypso

A spur of the moment, impulse, load of drivel, created, as Inchcock woke up. He asked me to pass on his apologies, as he was temporarily in Defcon 2 mode, mentally.

5Fri007c

Remember These? Of course, the hoarders will!

Coronavirus Calypso

Going into self-isolation,
As is most of the nation,
To get the toilet rolls in?
The chances? None to thin,
Coronavirus, payment for our sin?

Tellurians, you must not bump into,
Tatterdemalion or the well-to-do,
Urges to touch, you must subdue,
Cut your hair in a basin cut hair-do,
Having sex is still under review!
But pigeons can still bill and coo?

No food in the shops,
Bread, milk, you might find a few,
You’ll have to fight and argue,
Battle with the determined queue,
Then blood and insults will spew,
The language was very blue!

You might try home delivery for food,
To sustain you and your brood,
If you do try home delivery food!
To the delivery man, do not be rude,

Self-isolation; is wrong, some folk argue,
But I’ll not be involved over this, thank-you,
HMG responses seem so impromptu,
Certainly going to cost us revenue,

Self-isolation, so many folk rue,
A bit of good news is overdue,
Confusion over what we must do,
We mustn’t shake hands too!
Is mankind’s end really in view?

Stuck at home, what do we do?
Clean shelves and dust that statue,
Pen some extra veins to your tattoo,
No food in, so no chocolate to chew,
Can’t get out to buy, so no making stew,
Your plans and orientation, gone askew!

Sit, read a book, perhaps of Fu Manchu,
Back of the fridge, mouldy Danish blue?
You’re starving now, crumbs for tea, that’ll do!
Dig around the sofa, for crisp-crumbs residue!
The nurse’s visit cancelled too,
Mind froze, stagnated, what will ensue?

Where is the spirit of World War Two?
Is it the end, will you ever again hear a cuckoo?
Is it to be, that you’ll not see another cup of tea?
Farewell, to your beloved tasty Glengettie brew?
Your mind gets depressed, whatever can you do?
Finally, you get a plan made and worked through!

Escape! Find food, and hopefully, a toilet roll too!
Your plan to go shopping, sanctioned by the Tenant’s escape crew,
How to get out though, whatever can you do?
They don you with a wig, to hide your bald head from view,
You know you may not return, but offer your neighbours, a thank-you,
Creep out, staying in the shadows, your walking stick oiled too,
Arrive at the store, but what a sight greets you…

Header7

But it’s the future, your deja vu, hitherto!

Empty shelves, fighting, greed, at Sainsbury’s too!
Little fresh food, no toilet rolls, not even a tissue!
This is now a serious issue,
You give an Achoo – but ominously, nobody blesses you!

WDP 003a

Published in Support of the Outer Peruvian Pregnant Kangaroo Appreciation Society

Where hope would once prevail

This morose rubbish was penned by Inchcock when he was at his lowest.

Having just missed a second appointment at his Dentists!

It flowed from his now even-more depressed mind easily. Too easily.

But, the old fool still posted it. Bless the poor old twit!

GC33

Where hope would once prevail

Where hope would once prevail,

Now there’s not even a contrail,

I’m  not exactly hearty & hale,

My failings, oh, I so want to wail,

My hopes have begun to pale!

Overweight, I’ll never be a Chippendale,

I believe I was born to fail,

Will my fortunes improve, my good flail?

No, more chance of finding the Holy Grail!

My good luck, I store under a fingernail,

My Accifauxpas, ever-grow in scale,

As my body does, it looks like a whale!

Whoopsidangleplops arrive, like a gale,

Worries, fretting, now no sleep to avail,

Still, it’s given me time to write this sorry sad, tale!

If anyone want to buy it, it’s for sale!

Evenin’ all!

Inchcock’s Trip to Nottingham wiv his camera! Comments in bad rhyme!

2Tue28

Inchcock’s Trip to Nottingham

1Mon05

I started out on my trip to town today,

I got through to the lifts, to my dismay,

The elevators all 12-floors below,

I waited patiently before I could go,

I had the scenic view to peruse, though!

1Mon05a

Walking through the link-passage again,

Welcomed by the pouring rain,

Trapped my fingers in the swipe-door, the pain!

I chatted with Angela and Elaine,

Out to get wet, but didn’t complain,

T’was nice to get out of the flats again!

1Mon05b

Off the bus, greeted with a jogging student’s glare,

I just tossed him back, a similar stare,

The rain worked its way, through my jacket,

I wouldn’t mind, but it cost me a packet!

Nottingham City Centre, I wondered why I ever went there!

1Mon06

I remembered though, it was to buy food, starting at Aldi first,

 I hobbled my way down a rainy Glasshouse Street,

At the shop, I bought a lot of fodder, even some Bratwurst,

Then paid, wandered off, for my spending was incomplete,

To Bargain Buys, they’d no potato cakes, that made me curse!

1Mon07

Mansfield Road, rain and Pavement Cyclists abound!

Next a bloke on a Lambretta, I cursed, and moved on,

Nottinghamian’s serenity, smiles, were not to be found,

As to Trinity Square, I was soggily bound!

En route, this bit of Street Art below, I found,

1Mon06a

It lay there, wet, upon the ground,

On Old Street, it was found,

Broken bottles nearby, a battleground.

I moved away, like a limping greyhound!

1Mon08

I got through Trinity Square, left via Kings Walk.

Not many folks about at all?

No one to say hello to, or talk,

Then we had a little rain squall!

1Mon09

Parliament Street had a few more folks around, I have to say,

Unemployed, Students, shoplifters, muggers, no policemen though.

The rain started pouring heavier, not a nice day,

So many eateries in one place, how do they all make any dough? (Hahaha!)

1Mon09b

Down Market Street, I did wobble along,

The rain temporarily having stopped,

I think I sang a joyful song,

The tram gave out a melodic ‘Klong-Klong’,

I might use this photo later, as a ‘Thoughts’ backdrop!

1Mon10

A damp Slab Square, where did the people go?

Is it the rain, are Social Services Inspectors lurking?

Which department are they from, if so?

After illegal immigrants, or claimants working?

A mystery to me, I don’t know.

1Mon13

Nottingham’s cheerless Wheeler Gate, depression flowed,

My target, in Turquoise, the Poundland shop!

Competing coffee shops each side of the road,

Staff sneering at each other, as a goad!

I came out of Poundland, with a massive load,

Two bags on the trolley handles, it went all over the road,

I spent so much, I wondered how much I owed!

1Mon14

To the bus stop home, along South Parade,

Though the tatty, unkempt Slab Square,

A slight Accifauxpas, I’m afraid I made,

The rain started again there,

Got my brolly out, the one for which £10 I paid,

It fell to bits, and to be right and fair,

  I couldn’t bend down, so I left it there!

1Mon14a

Over the Slab Square, to the King Street/Long row junction,

Where the brain struggled to function,

I had a Dizzy Dennis cumulation,

1Mon14b

When the head cleared, and the brain regeared,

With admiration for architect Watson Fothergill grew,

Just looking at his work, my heart cheered.

1Mon14

On the way up Queen Street, the trolley-walker veered,

Very nearly tipping over, that’s something I feard,

It became so unruly, it understeered,

By gum, I thought, this is weird!

Ah, a big-clump of chewing gum from the wheel was cleared,

I must say, I was greatly cheered!

2Tue30

Thank You

WDP 003j2

A Whoopsiedangleplop Wet-Walk in Nottingham

01a

Amidst a Thought-Storm, an idea came,

For a little ode, a bad one, oh the shame!

But Inchie had to put pen to paper and write it,

Cause he got wet and went arse-over-tit!

But he knows he is to blame,

Still scribbled it, all the same!

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

0001

Nottingham’s Street Art with badly rhyming daft comments

1Mon16

Coffee Storage Area Queen Street, Nottingham

Nottingham’s Street Art

With chronically badly rhyming, daft comments

 

1Mon23

Swann’s Yard, off Long Row,

Has it been cleaned, if so, long ago,

The rats were running, to and fro,

The smell meant I soon had to go!

 

1Mon22

Queen Street, near the L9 bus stop,

Rubbish, waste, decaying food,

Wrappers from Bird’s cake shop,

Not really art, dirty and so crude!

Use it as a ‘Don’t Litter sign’ backdrop?

 

1Mon21

Ah, low windows on which to rest your weary bum?

Street-sleepers can watch the diners eat and suck a thumb?

Artistically, it has little worth,

It’s not worth a lot, but down to earth,

The Tate might buy it, they show other scum!

 

1Mon20

The famous rock hardened Nottingham chewing gum on show,

The Council can’t get it off of the floor you know,

People are still dropping it, though!

It won’t come off, I’ve had a go!

Petrol, bleach, I even tried a Brillo,

1Mon19

Chewing gum and a proper fork too!

Likely stolen from a restaurant,

Perhaps the Foo Man Choo?

They’ll take anything they want,

These Nottingham Street Artists do!

 

1Mon18b

This is a waste bin on the pavement edge,

Around on the floor, a pastie, nub-ends, and a potato wedge,

A bit of onion, and some phlegm and spit,

I don’t like this one a little bit,

I suppose it’s been done by kids at the college?

 

1Mon18a

The entrance to a Long Row store,

The artwork here is pretty poor,

I see there is no chewing gum on the floor?

But below, you’ll see some more!

1Mon18

Roll-up nubs, chewing gum and escaping fluid,

Simple, neat, by a King Street Druid?

Or a drunken phone addicted kid?

Columbidae Columbiformes Columbimorphae Aves, made?

Pigeons, it’s not, though their phoo is the same shade!

1Mon17

1Mon16a

Back to Queen Street, where there’s real Street Art again,

My enthusiasm is beginning to wain,

Cleaning this up is such a pain,

The culprits should be slain!

Mind you, Brexit is a bigger problem and stain!

Inchcock’s wobble to Nottingham, in the rain. Wet-through, Water-logged, and Wringing-wet. Hey-Ho!

Inchcock’s wobble to Nottingham, in the rain

5Fri08

Got off the bus with some help from a stranger, walked down to town,

Galloping Horses were swirling or spinning around,

But no one riding on them, I found,

Damned shakes, I dropped the flipping camera on the ground,

Retrieved it painfully, and took some more shots from around.

5Fri09The overcharging food stalls, cooking their repast,

As Nottinghamian’s, just strolled past.

5Fri11The Nottingham Slab Square, It’s always there, It looked a right mess, to be fair!

5Fri12Off I plodded, to the Poundland Shop, 

T’was only a short little hop,

In search of drain unblocker and other codswallop!

5Fri13I entered the premises, soaking wet,

I bought too much stuff again, not to fret,

I still had a little money left yet,

I gave the helpful lady, a thank you, she is a pet,

And gave her a can of Gin & Tonic!

5Fri14Paid-up, and out into the rain again,

Arthur Itis and Anne Gyna were giving me a little pain,

Determined, to resist depression,

Mind you, I had indigestion,

And a slightly confused brain!

5Fri16On to South Parade,

Dizzy Dennis visited, unwanted,

So, progress was delayed,

He soon dissipated,

I was glad but amazed!

5Fri017I took a photo, down Exchange Walk,

Not many folks having a talk on their phone?

People all around, yet I felt so alone,

Chewing gum littered where the folks walked.

5Fri019aI hobbled, struggling with the three-wheeled trolly-guide,

Through the Exchange arcade,

And out the other side,

For these stallholders, I’m afraid,

Not much money will be made!

5Fri20King Street in the rain, showed another Council pain,

Yes, chewing gum on the pavement again!

I bet they don’t have this trouble in Bahrain,

I view ditching gum on the floor, with disdain!

5Fri22

5Fri23I crossed to the other side of Long Row,

Got under alcove-cover to take these, don’t you know,

The only permanent retailer was busy serving, on the go,

The folks in the rain, well, it’s better than snow!

5Fri24I was well wet, and a little cold,

Not good for me, now I’m getting old,

Good job I’d had my flu jab, the anticold,

Despite the rain, I had to be bold,

So I dashed, wobblingly, to the bus stop, wet and cold!

5Fri25T’was bleak on Queen Street, waiting for the L9,

5Fri26And the hands didn’t look very fine!

It didn’t look like it was mine,

But I mustn’t whine,

I mused of things like Mnemosyne,

Then took a moody picture, it came out fine!

5Fri27The bus arrived, and it brought on a smile,

It’s coming eased my cold and chagrin,

I went to get on, missed the step by a mile,

A bloke picked me and the trolley up, and helped us in,

I was alright after a while,

But this trip out, left me needing Codeine and Amoxicillin!

WDP 09L

 

Random, waffling thoughts from Inchcock!

7Sun13

I think that should be Milliganesqueness?

7Sun14

No animal (Apart from Inchcock of course) were harmed in this production

This blog is lactose-free & suitable for vegetarians and vegans

No artificial colouring or flavourings were used

Inchcock is a semi-free-range production

Organically reclaimed wording used

7Sun15

Vital Advice for Nottinghamian Senior Citizens, Part one – In Rhyme, of sorts

BNC01

They’re dangerous, uncouth and some are blind,

The ignorant swine are uncaring, and what’s more,

They often hit you, coming silently from behind,

Leaving your hand arm or elbow, feeling sore,

They test your sanity, patience and mind,

They’ve no warning bells or horn, that’s for sure,

Belting along the pavements, they are a bind,

It’s no use if you beg and implore,

For them to leave more room, not be so unkind,

The few who reply, use sneers, curse-words obscure,

To roads and cycle paths they should be confined,

Their insults, two fingers you’ll have to endure,

Best to use your walking stick – hit ’em on the jaw!

BNC02

But that’s no solution, not a good idea, you see,

Cause they are young, fit and violence-loving,

They offer scowls and are threatening to me,

Some ride at me, I have to do some manoeuvering,

Which ain’t easy with the walker to push, you see!

Empathy, sympathy, and understanding they are avoiding,

Making this old fart, run and flee!

 Taking their photograph may get me a beating,

But don’t give up the struggle, become an attritee,

Join me on my hobbles, bring a Glock, that’s the thing!

BNC03

They don’t scare me though… well, not too much.

Alright, the law-breaking and getting-away-with-it ‘Gits’ do!