Inchcock: Friday 5th Aug 22 – Diary & Odes

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Inchcock’s Waffling No: 23⅒th
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06:50hrs. What a sleep that was at last. Ready for this… Six-Hours! Grrreat! The ankle ulcer had come up overnight and was tingling & stinging a bit. The right foot and leg were more swollen and colourful as well. So, I took this snapshot. I just can’t understand why the Tate Gallery has not noticed the state of my legs and bought my photos.
After six uninterrupted hours of gorgeous sleep, I was not surprised that the wee-wees started flowing and regularly. Each session was followed by after-micturitional leaking. Bit of a nuisance having to wait so long and make sure any extra squirts or leaks had all finished. Still, that’s a fact of life nowadays.

I went into sphygmomanometerisationing mode and got the Health Checks done.

The BP had gone up a smidgeon, but nothing too risky. God results still.
Barely into the red zone, yet again. I don’t know why it has been so good this past month, but I adopted a well-deserved one. How long can this go on? It seems to have settled so well. Fingers crossed that it continues.
I started to do the layout for this template and got a whiff of my B,O., so I decided that as soon the morning Carer has been, I’ll get the ablutioning done. Seconds later, ♫ Oh. Susana ♫ sounded from the door chime.

Came in and got my medications sorted out. Val’s weekly treat of Strawberries had arrived, and I issued them in thanks to Valerie, and off she went – forgetting for the first time ever to take the waste bags with her. I was rushing her a bit so I could get the ablutioning done, though, so, not her fault.

I went into the wet room to clean up my massively overweight bobby body and assorted knick-knacks. But found that the job of cleaning up the wet room floor I did yesterday, I think it was, was of inferior quality. The floor had bits on it, black, that stuck like glue to the surface. Where they came from puzzled me. (As a lot of things tend to do nowadays, Hehe!)  I just about crippled myself getting down and up again so often, after each time, and found I’d missed some. to blame, mayhaps?
By the time I got around to doing any ablutioning, I was well worn out and had some new aches. Hehe! As I started with the teeth cleaning, I had to double check that the scrubbing brush, bleach, mop, and bucket had not been left in my own way in the shower area. So glad I checked, for the bleach was under the shower, and going in there without any glasses on, I might have avoided an !
At long last, a weary and battered Inchy got on with the job in hand. Teggies have already been done, and I got on with the shaving. And only had two tiny nicks in the process. However, I did manage to break one of the new razors, and not a cheap Bic; Oh no! One of the four-bladed ones! How is it a mystery? I don’t think I could break one if I tried to.
The showering went well, apart from clouting my shoulder against the towel rail and starting Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley off. The lower regions, front and rear, were then medicated. The ear holes were olive-oiled. The eye drops were dropped in; well, most of them ended up on the cheek and then ran down into the moustache, turning it into a temporary brown from grey. Little Inchies fungal lesion is the most painful ailment to treat (As usual). Deodorised, dressed, and off to make a brew of Glengettie tea. Noticed the beautiful puffer clouds in view in the sky again. I do love so to see these up there. I tried a bit of pareidoliaing and found two figures in this photograph on the left.

I got some potatoes out, sorted them and got the good ones in the saucepan on a low heat setting. Then realised I had the fresh chips in the fridge with a short use-by-date that needed consuming. Then the dithering started. Shall I have the potatoes and end up wasting the ready-made chips?
I sort of left any decision in the air. I’m good at that, being indecisive, you know? I went to check on the other dates in the fridge but could only manage to decipher a couple of them. Carer Richard was in such a rush yesterday that he forgot to investigate for me. And of course, I forgot to ask him to. Hey-Ho! The lad was worn-out and tired, bless him. I hope he can get a good rest during his break. and does not get called in. He’s due a bit of good luck, and I hope Sweet Morpheus can supply it for the lad.

Later, I felt the stinging from the ankle ulcer and looked at the ankle and legs again. See what’s what with it. It (the ankle ulcer) now looked so much calmer. And yet it was stinging more than before when it was all swollen and glowing?
Beats me. Then again, most things do nowadays.
Back onto CorelDraw to make another Ode that had come into my distorted mind.

Here it is; sorry!

Waffling Ode Number 19⅑th

Cloud Photo of the Year!

Absolutely bootiful!

The Morrison order for Tuesday; that I started yesterday and gave up on when it needed verification and Code numbers from an outside source to log on was annoying. Well, believe it or not, I got a code to use this morning, by text, from the bank??? I used the number and finished the order that was still on site. Two things worry me…❶ I clicked buy now, and another email, confirmation from Morrison’s, told me I had ordered it for next Sunday, not Tuesday. ❷ Have I been hacked, scammed, fiddled, or not? Worried now!

Pressed on with this Ode, I knew I’d get around to it eventually, but not as late as this. Gone eleven o’clock!

03:00hrs: Decided to get something to eat; the blog will have to wait.

Ah, the mushroom pate is not as good as the Sainsbury one, but very lovely. Fresh ready-prepared oven chips, last of bullet-hard beetroot, and tomatoes. Wholemeal cobs, BBQ dip, and for afters: An orange jelly, with squirty low-fat imitation, pretend cream sprayed all over it. Flavour rating; 6.9/10, the chips (fries) let it down.

Got the pot’s washed, and I settled to watch an episode of Kitchen Nightmares. Fell asleep, and the landline burst forth, waking me crudely! I bungled my way out of the c1968 recliner to get to the phone before it stopped; “Hello?” – “Mr Chambers, Gerald?” “Yes, is that Hristina?” And it was my beautiful, beloved Haematology Nurse. I think she said she would be coming to take the blood sample on Monday. She had a clear voice on the phone and seemed impressed that I recognised her voice. A picture of her came into my mind… that’s why I’m not sure if it was Monday or Tuesday she would be calling. I tend to get excited when she calls me.

I resettled in the c1963 recliner, and I started to watch the TV, but I drifted off into a much-needed sleep… Not for long!
♫ Oh, Susana ♫… Joseph, the evening carer, woke me up. His shaky-right leg was going like the clappers tonight when he sat down. Got the medications sorted and gave him his choice of the thank-you treats. (Woo-Woo, I think?) Saw him off and locked the front door.

Got down in the recliner once again, determined to get some sleep… But No! As I was drifting off, I felt the dreaded wet warm sensation in the PPs (Protection Pants). I was certain that I’d had a leak. So, up yet again, and to the wet room to wash and get new PPs on. , It was worse,
So cleaning up and medicationalisationing was needed.

I noticed the glow from the late sun setting and just had to take a photo of it. A misty, unclear, but mood-prompting shot, so I thought.
The body was tired, the mind ready to be switched off, I got down in the second-hand, £300, c1968, overwhelmingly-sickeningly beige coloured, tatty, uncomfortable, rusty, wobbly-recliner for the umpteenth time.

Up now this Friday, I must have dropped off to sleep, on the insistence of my body & brain, so many times. And every time, someone or thing woke me up. I think this must have confused my already unreliable brain. Cause when I got down in the recliner this time, in search of Sweet Morpheus, it refused to let me drift off! It was hours (and oh, so many wee-wees before I finally got off!

Fed Up? Me? Yes! Hehehe!

Inchcock Today: Thursday 4th August 2022

Starting with this Humorous Ode
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Nemo Mortalium Omnibus Horis Sapit

Last night I slept early, getting up around 12:40hrs, and got on with the day’s work. I’m nothing if dedicated.
After yesterday’s three false alarms, I was unsure of having a successful mission. However, the evacuation flowed in contact with the plastic throneand kept coming; at one stage, I thought my body might float into the air. Hehe! I’d passed that much. And comfortably, pain-free without any bleeding! A total reversal, I suspect that the different veggie burgers I had for dinner may have played a part in this scenario.

This photo I took of the plates and pins and forgot to put on yesterday’s blog. It could happen to anyone, Ahem! Don’t they look good? This and the excellent BP lately are worrying; I’m not used to this.

I had a wash and sorted out the waste bins. Got a cold drink from the fridge, finished yesterday’s blog, and posted it off to WordPress.

I made up the dry-humoured Ode to use and spent hours trying to sort out whatever I’d done wrong on Corel Draw, which lost me so many options. At one time, I gave up, turned it off, and got out the sphygmomanometer. 
Yet another great set of figures this morning. And I was only just inside the red zone. Amazes me how the BP has been so good this last month.
I tried CorelDraw again, and I lost the saved template. More time lost, searching without much hope… But, I found, retitled it to the original name, and all was well again. I thought

I’ve got a Morrison via Amazon order coming later shortly now. But will Carer Richard come late enough so he can have his Mushroom Pete treat? Will the delivery come in time? – Will they have any in stock? – Will they send crap substitutes? Can I freeze a fresh mushroom pate for Richard to have the following Monday? Did I remember to order some? What day is it?…

The wee-wees have eased off. The rear-end found new life. My legs, ankle ulcer and feet are looking virtually perfect. No Harold Haemorrhoid or Fungal Lesion bleeding. No stubbed toe, walking into anything, & no battle with Sock-Glide-Glenda (I didn’t put any socks on). 

Arrived when and we were both a little down, I think. What bit of chinwagging we got was not the most cheerful. And Richard broke his own record for the fastest visit today. He was soon off in haste, but still the pleasant chap he is.

I turned off the computer to ensure that when the Morrison Amazon delivery arrived, I could be in the kitchen with the door open and hear when the weak, timid, pathetic chime from the intercom was heard. When the intercom chimed out, I was taking the opportunity to titivate the mess on the draining board.
A beautiful young lady came to the door and handed me each bag I put in the hallway. She already had my address, Hehe! Took my date of birth.
I thanked her and set about taking each bag through to the kitchenette. Poor old thing! I know I’m getting old, senile and past it. It shook me that I needed a few minutes to rest after taking the bags through the hallway.
The frozen item was the Meatless Farm Burgers, as well; there’s not much free room in the freezer.
Got what might be the last of pod peas, they are near the end of the season now, and it shows.
The fridge, on the other hand (not that I actually had a fridge on the other hand), had a lot of fodder that had to be jungled and jiggled to make room to get the stuff in there. These included some Strawberries, one for the Wardens, and Carer Valerie’s weekly treat.
Bananas, and my favourite veg seasoning, Oxo. These cubes have a fantastic flavour with them. I got some rice in, as it has already shot up in price, and a lady on the TV last night said to expect a lot more increases.
I put the warden’s weekly flower treat in the hallway; it’s cooler in there and rang to say they could be collected anytime. And if the DVT nurse comes early, I’ll bring them down to the office for them.

I must remember to ask Deana if the lift for the Diabetes session is sorted cause with Nathanial staying late to go over my missed meeting course, I will not know when I will be leaving. So will have to get a tram to Nottingham, a bus to Sherwood, and another bus up to the flats on that Friday. Fingers crossed that the ailments give me a break, which they are doing now… but they’ll be back! Haha!

Minutes after typing the above, the wet warm glow started in the lower regions. Why did I have to open my mouth? At least today, I can patch things up with the invaluable help of the shower before medicating. I always dread this happening when I’m out and about. Pure luck that it doesn’t happen too often… come to think of it, I’m not out usually anyway.

I’ll turn everything off computer-wise now and get the ablutionalisationing done and medicating certain areas in need. Back in a while…

“Lambasting-to-Self: Oh, No, you great fool, the DVT nurse and Deana are coming, aren’t they, dumbo!… I wish you’d get it together… Idiot! You know you can’t hear the telephone, intercom or even the door chime when you’re in the shower… Pillock!”
Dementia Doreen dashes your plans! Did you see that? The vaguest iota of contentment or thought that things might about to be going well, and what happens?

11:10hrs: Checked the tracker on Amazon; 3 stops away; I’d nearly forgotten about this delivery coming as well! Tsk! All that hassle getting the shower repaired, and now I still can’t get a shower! Or much sleep, either.

Took these photographicalisations of magnificent puffer clouds on display. A tremendous deep shade of blue?

11:39hrs: Checked the tracker on Amazon; Still 3 stops away.

Got some chips in the oven, chip sarnies for a snack? Cooked it, took a photo of it (and it didn’t get on the SD card?), ate it (the chip sarnies), and fell asleep.

Zzz!
Amazon Red Leicester delivery arrived. I put them away.
Zzz!
Esther called to see how things were, off on holiday. Wished her all the bestest.
Zzz!
Wardens Dean and Julie arrived. To do the yearly fact updates, we did them, and I mentioned the lift to the Diabetes at Bulwell. The leading man, Nathanial, is staying behind on this session to help me catch up with the one I missed, thanks to Meridian Care lot not letting me know they had failed to arrange a lift for me after saying to me; “We’re sorting it, no need to worry!” Deana phoned the transport people and arranged for a ride for the Friday 12th, 2nd session. I had to join something, and Deana sorted it all for me on the phone. Lovely, ♥! Deana also gave a note with the relevant numbers on it… But can I find it? NO! But I did remember to provide them with their weekly treats, flowers, and strawberries. Searched for hours for the note… maybe she didn’t give me one, or… I’m getting muddled again. I emailed her the list of the meetings and mentioned the mystery note… I am a fool!
Zzz!
. Arrived, I was well deep into sleep again, a rude awakening. Haha! Got the medications sorted out for me. Treated to a choice of plonk/nibbles. Off he went, not taking the waste bags to the chute. Cause I didn’t remind him. However, I had all the waste made from the other deliveries to sort, so I got on with them and took them all to the waste chute.

Cathleen’s Cartilage was playing up after I twisted the knee getting into the chute room. Pain level, only 4/10. Easily bearable.

Onto the computer and sent the list of sessions to Warden Deana. Updated this blog up to here. Then started the template for Fridays.

I nipped into the wet room to check that the shower was not leaking again, and…
Gave myself a good toe stubbing against the dreaded, fearsome Sock-Glide-Glenda. Catching the ankle ulcer at the same time. When I took this photo, later on, the end of the toes of the affected foot was white, and the rest of the foot was glowing red; the leg above was ghostly white?

Just another of the mysteries of Woodthorpe Court, with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, ghosts, grotesque succubae, extraterrestrials, ectoplasms, spirits, or the Fata Morganas that have been sent to taunt, irritate and terminate my already limited saneness of mind. I just laughed it off, of course.

I got this blog finished. I’ll post it in the morning.

It’s been a busy day. But getting help from Deana, and Ethel checking on how I was going, meant so much to me. Bless ’em! ♥

Inchcock Today: Short Diary & an Ode

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SATURDAY 23rd JULY 2022

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I rose, mentally weary and physically so tired. Sweet Morpheus has been unkind to me for a few days. Not much sleep at all.

I pottered about, starting many things and drifting merrily off to such others. Not many saw completion or fruition.
I found some photos that were supposed to have gone on yesterday’s blog. Last night’s meal. A veggie dinner and veggie ice cream, not that the brain was clear enough, but I think it was nice and tasty. I gave the memory an 8/10 score. Apart from the beetroot, which tested my loose teeth. Which reminded me, I must remember the Dentist’s visit on Monday!
arrived and sorted out the medications. I noticed when I opened the new bag that some of the same medicines had shorter-dated packs at the bottom of the drawer. Of course, there were only a few that I could read the date on, thanks to the Cataracts. The carer soon got me sorted. Didn’t want any drinkies or nibbles and left leaving the waste bags in the hallway. I didn’t think to ask her to take them; a new gal is not up with the system yet. Nervous and weary, but nice enough, bless her.
It was a bit colder this morning, a lot, in fact.
I took some photographicalisations from the kitchen window.
Then went on the computer – that was it; I spent around eight hours doing odeing and never got around to starting this actual blog!

Had a shower, shave and a sh… well, we’ll leave that bit. Not that it was a bit. A Constipation Konrad controlled session. Firm, painful and in the end, a little bloody, Harold’s Haemorrhoids suffered.

Then realised I’d not done the Health Checks yet. So I did!


Yet again, an overall lower than ever before result! Phenomenal

I started on an Ode for the top of this blog. And it took me hours to get done. Mind-Blanks! Kungleturds! My efforts were accompanied by Herbert’s mechanical and metal cacophony concert.

Nearly tea time now. It won’t be long until the evening carer is due. What happened to the time?

Mind you, every wee-wee was followed by  , and Little Inchies a few times, which cost me a lot of lost time. I’m still tired, is slowing me down now. I’m struggling with using CorelDraw. The keyboard keys blend into each other. Grollocks!

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My daily walk through the tree copse mattered…
If I tried it nowadays, I’d be devoured…
By various ailments pains, again and again…

Can’t get up the hill or down in the subterranean…
Would it help me if I took some cocaine?
Or a few more Codeines for the pain?
I’d likely end up an addicted crackbrain?
Better not think of doing this then…
Should I be eating bread that’s multigrain?
I hope the cataract is done soon, my vision to regain…
Oh, dearie me, I need the Throne made of Porcelain…

Bloody Constipation Conrad; he’s barbaric!
I lost blood from the piles, trapped something in the seat of plastic!
The rock-hard evacuation nearly sent me ballistic!.
Sorry, I mustn’t be so melodramatic…
Little Inchies fungal lesion bled; it’s only miniaturistic,
It’s no use me being all nostalgic,
Or far-seeing and nostradamic,
And I’m not getting into a tizwas or panic…
Even with all my ailments, and now I’m osteoarthritic…
I intend to learn how to be optimistic,

Being depressed has been making me feel sick,
As do people who call me a prick…
For having such a tiny man-dick…
Bullies, gangs, fiddling MPs, Doctors charlatanic…
I find these scumbags are lowlife, oxymoronic,
They concern, bother me, even if I’m thanatognomonic,
Dementia Doreen, toys with all things mnemic…
Dates, appointments, names, days… it could be hilaric…
But with me, there are other things to make me feel despotic,
Peed off, humiliated, and depressogenic…
I’ve forgotten what they are; because I’m a schmendrick!

Yet I used to be known as being hyperdynamic,
I’m so fat naturally; I’m not bulimic,
I don’t see the end of mankind as cataclysmic…
If there is a God, our actions must have made him sick…
If St Peter wants to send me back to earth again… Horrific!
One failure is enough for me; that would be so dramatic.
Unless he assures me this time, my man-worm will be pythonic!
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Turned the Computer off and thoughts of food developed. But there are not many choices fresh-wise, and I’m too tired and shaking to bother too much.

I decided first to take some close-up photos of the ankle and feet. Here they are on the left here. The left foot is getting worse, but the right one with the ulcer is far easier and better looking tonight.

The left toes and foot had lost a lot of fluid. The right one was still retaining a lot of water. Walking remains more like hobbling and a smidge risky when the PN wobbles and shakes come on while getting around the flat.

Ah, off to the wet room. A tough evacuation that almost brought tears to my eyes. Washed up, and I medicated poor old Harold’s Haemorrhoids.
Then back to pondering on what to have to eat. Well, I was not interested in cooking, and the tiredness decided me to have a quick snack. A pot of pot noodles, with extra seasonings, added. Liquid smoke and BBQ sauce. A pot of instant potato with liquid salt, soya bacon pieces and more BBQ sauce. A few sad-looking slices of dry bread to dip into the noodles and wrap up some of the potatoes to make a sarnie out of.
The picture looks terribly sparse, unappetising, a pathetic meal. That is because it was all these things!
Yet… maybe because of Sweet Morpheus’s determination that I will not get any sleep, combined with his success in doing this, I enjoyed the nosh. I think a Taste-Rating of 6.5/10 would not be over-gracious?
Even though I fell asleep eating it! Woke and finished it off and drifted into the land of nod again. I think it must have been a deep one, cause I reckon I was dreaming I was sleeping… and great joy was floating in my mind, peaceful…
♫Oh, Susana♫ burst out from the door chime box six foot away in front of me. It jerked me awake, and Valerie came into the room, and instantly the tiredness hit me again. I’d only been sleeping for five minutes! I was hoping to stay in the recliner while Valerie gave me the medications, then I could nod off again when the gal had finished, but no!
Valerie needed some medications, and I got up and hobbled into the kitchenette to get her some from the medicine drawer.

Valerie gave me the doses, and I had a little natter with her. She pointed out that my Stuttering-Stephanie habit was a lot worse tonight. I’d not noticed? Why I wondered? And stayed not knowing!) I can’t remember if I offered her any nibbles or not? I hope I did. I think I stayed in the chair as she left after I thanked her.
But there was no sleeping early tonight for me. I soon realised I’d not locked the door. So, what with the memory of the yobboes coming in at two in the morning still fresh in my mind, I had to get up and go to lock the door – Not a hard task, really…
However, stubbing my toe on the way back against the clothes airer ensured a minor curse word was emitted, thus, cocking up any chance of getting to sleep early!

After an hour or so, I gave up and put a DVD on. Humph!

Inchcock’s Retrieved Dairy, Photos & Odes


THURSDAY 21st JULY 2022

My scribbled reminder notes were lost! Well, I say lost; I tore them up thinking they were Wednesdays. Gragnangles! So detailed facts are missing will be missing.

Sphygmomanometerisationing revealed SYS 148, DIA 62 and pulse at a reasonable rate of 79mpm. Pleased with these numbers, I entered the results in the NHS Cardiac Check You Rates site & then made this little graphicalisation, just for the fun of it  (Yes, I’m just a child at heart… and a 99-year-old, bodily) Hehehe, Extra pleasing to be only just in the red, for three days now.

Of course, with my bungee-jumping, gym work, hill-climbing and daily push-ups, The wee-wees started coming. Each one

Taking the advice from HRH Petal-Lisa, a kind. She’s one lovely lady from Cincinnati, The Manor Laboratories: I took the evening’s Seed Oil Hemp capsule and a squirt of under-tongue CBD. Yes, I know it’s morning, but I forgot to take the last night, it could happen to anyone… Ahem!)

In the past fifteen minutes, I’ve wee-weed a further four times. Every one of them, annoyingly with much. So irritating! I had a quick chat with my animal family in their bed-box tray on the cabinet. Incidentally, HRH Petal-Lisa, my ether Angel made each one for me and posted them from the USA for Christmas! ♥ We’ve never met, but somehow through the ether, Lisa has got to know me well. ♥ Thanks, my Angel!

The Iceland food arrived, causing me a fair bit of pain! The driver put the first four bags in the hallway for me and the last one (on the left) close to the doorway. Several 2-litre bottles hit my knee on their way down to hit my toes, and picking them up, I stubbed my big toe again! Whereunto he’d been treated and gone, the bottles fell out of the bags, and I had to be standing next to them when it happened, of course.

I got the frozen foods into the freezer; well, it seemed like a logical move – Hehe!). No No-Bull veggie burgers or Spring Water were unavailable yet again! The bread was substituted.
I’d got some 2-litre bottles of limeade and lemonade as substitutes for the water. Sorted out the other bits and took the waste to the rubbish chute. And, getting the bags in the opening, I cunningly dropped a bag that landed on the leg ulcer. It inflamed it for a while, but the ankle was still much better than yesterday! The legs, feet and toes are not so chubby, either. I gave myself a knock on the shoulder coming out of the room.
Memory blanks from here on for a while; I can recall taking this night shot late on. Not taking the Hemp, so staying asleep was not possible; always jumping awake. So I got up and made a much-belated meal. It was a good one, mind you. Flavour Rating; 8.2/10.
Followed by an orange jelly, and I sprayed all around it with a vegan cream substitute. Jolly good that was too!
WordPressing for hours, ended up doing it until 04:00hrs in the morning, so sleep deprivation continues.
I can only blame Dementia Doreen!

FRIDAY 22nd JULY 2022

The thoughts for this Ode matured…
After Inchy stubbed his toe and simpered…
And logicality and reasoning were suspended,
Commonsense and judgement were temporarily abandoned…
Inchies creativity stuttered and wandered!

The English language was primarily disregarded,
His few remaining grey cells working, both tottered…
Suddenly captivated with the thought of being sepultured?
Inchy was never educated or cultured…
His trepidations, worries, and fears, are never resolved…
How come he has never been happy, content or cavorted?
Here is his Ode, although it won’t be extolled!


My mind used to be like a constellation…
Grasping facts, and figures, offering help and confirmation,
Making things efficient, through thoughts and modification,
Famed for my excellent, calm use of conceptualisation,
Seeking improvements for all, through rumin
ation,
Then the Stroke, brain power went into absquatulation…
Next; Peripheral Neuropathy, arithmophobia, ‘Damnation!’

Now paramnesia, memory problems… depression!
Suffering many a mental aberration…
Fears, worries, oppression, no passion!
Shakes and shudders, aches & pains, tumbles, concussion…
Vascular Dementia Doreen, giving me mental fossilisa
tion,
My life needs some lightness, feuilleton!
Making decisions and choices need extra persuasion!

Food prices rocketing; I can no longer afford my stilton…
Gone are the urge, ability and cash for any perversion,
No strength for any insurrection, rebellion or subversion,
Wee-weeing too much, the odd Porcelain Throne explosion…
Stuck indoors with my misery, apathy and mental inertion…
I hate my good health and mental abilities desertion…
Failures and accidents come in an endless succussion!
Friday next i
s my first Diabetes Coping session!
Have to go now; it’s time for creams, injection and medication,
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   Yea, Gawd of heaven! I know the recent Blood Pressure readings have been good for the last few days, only just in the red zone, but today, the SYS was 111, the lowest ever recorded in my life! And in the green area!!! DIA at 57 was down 5 points, and my Pulse rate was down 8. .

Oh, boy, I’, in the green,
The lowest that it’s ever been!
Amazing, fantastic, I mean…
This really blew my brain…
I hope tomorrow it’s that again!

Got the session done with a visit from Dizzy Dennis in the shower, short and sharp, all over. Probably caused by my diabetic polyneuropathy, compared to anything else, because it started so sharply and ended the same way. Minutes later, I needed to return to the wet room to use the and what a struggle that was. Talk about resistance!
The swelling in the feet was no worse, and the ankle ulcer much easier for my getting around,
I got on with the blogging updating and spent an hour or so at it, needing three wee-wees during that time… then…
I went into the kitchen to put the kettle on, and the heat and smell of burnt plastic greeted me! I’d put the kettle on earlier but had not heard the whistle to alert me it was boiling!
Had to use the oven gloves to get the warped, melted plastic handle and lid-lift kettle, and I dropped it into the sink, filling it with cold water straightway! Then had to clean mess up; the cooker, floor, bag up the kettle and the melted bits and apices that had dropped off, putting things in the sink. Then wrote this sad ode to the kettle. (Mad? Me? Yes!)


The morning Carer arrived, Valerie. I gave her her choice of cold drink from the fridge, and she took the caste bags from earlier to the chute for me (Not the kettle, I took that, in case any sharp bits cut the Carer),
Checked on the ankle ulcer, and it was getting a little fighter?
Half an hour later, it had gone down and all calm again?

Cragknangles! Off to the wet room to clean up, medicate, and get new PPs on. Hehehe!
You can’t win… well, not me!

Inchcock’s Thought Storms

Introduction

His odes, in many ways, are like a zit…

An unwanted ailment, you have to squash it…

Full of pus, staph bacteria, that hurts a bit,

Lost words, replaced with whatchamacallits,

Rhyming is so bad that it can ruin friendships,

Dementia Doreen causing so many errors and blips,

Inchy’s not educated, so he struggles at penmanship…

Now lost his logicality, of which he once had a firm grip!

He dreams of his brain being men mended, maybe, reequipped.

Mental power, dreams, and memory have to the ether slipped…

He tries to battle against Doreen, for long he has schlepped…

But is losing the battle; thus, he is about ready for his crypt.

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

His odes, in many ways, are like a zit; yes, I meant zit,

An unwanted ailment, you have to squash it…

Full of pus, staph bacteria, that hurts a bit,

Lost words, replaced with whatchamacallits,

Rhyming is so bad that it can ruin friendships,

Dementia Doreen causing so many errors and blips,

He’s not educated, so he struggles at penmanship…

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

Now lost his logicality, of which he once had a firm grip!

He dreams of his brain being men mended, maybe, reequipped.

Mental power, dreams, and memory have into the ether slipped…

He tries to battle against Doreen, for long he has schlepped…

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

But is losing the battle, thus ready for his crypt

But the business went bust,

And I started to lust…

For a gal with a big bust…

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

I’m prepared, but not too keen, on my upcoming sepulchre,

To be honest, I don’t see it fits into human culture…

Well, I used to be sociable, in fact, I was a campanologer,

Waking folks up Sunday morning… was my main pleasure,

Which I took my time with because it was a pleasure!

 The locals warned me off, bellringing, with a fervour,

So, to avoid a pasting, my bell rang no more…

Anyway, it hurt my arms, then I got a shoulder fracture…

So, I bought a barrow, and became a costermonger,

Giving me so much time watching the sky and pareidolia!?

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

Mood Update:

While struggling to get the preceding crap ode done, I got increasingly confused. I may have just posted bits of a Snippet ode wot I did in between today’s efforts. I have to write this stuff on Word, and then I get a spell checker. Then cut and paste into Blogger, where the colour and font size usually changes, and I have to go through it all again, ever correcting! I got a little depressed with things, life etc… I gave up and transferred it to WordPress. It’s a true-life farcicalness with Doreen Dementia!

However, I had a bit of good fortune in taking a tumble while making a brew of Thompson Punjana tea. Cracking my left knee on a cabinet corner as I went down. Everything seemed to change then, outlook and contentment-wise.

 I suddenly gleaned a previously unthought series of thoughts:

Why am I worrying? The end is nigh, and whatever I do, the Doctor will not accept Doreen Dementia’s existence, so there is no chance in hell of getting any help. ‘Fact!’

As much as I miss my daily hobbles, walking to the shops, and in the tree copse. I no longer have the ability to take them. ‘Fact’ You’ll just have to accept the inevitable, Chambers!

Walking into things may get less after I’ve had the eyes done. No point in fretting over it, the right eye cataract will take time to work, but there is a good chance I will again be able to do crosswords (not that I was any good at them, Hehe!), Not fret over the other eye being done afterwards. It’ll take a long time ‘Fact’.

Should I snuff it before they are done well? Would it matter? Apart from an unknown to me, a battle to get at my valuables from sudden relatives who care… I shall not be around to see it, and I can’t take them with me, (Or, can I?). So, good luck to them. ‘Fact!’

I tried thinking about happier times… that was not easy. Hehe! But Suzanne Jean Percival came to mind first and foremost, and they really were genuine happy memories. ‘Fact!’

That made me feel worse when I realised my current position… So quiet here today, even the noisy standoffish, antisocial, smarmy, reticent, toploftical git in the flat above was not making any noise! Loneliness is something that rarely affects me, but it did then. No one visiting. No phone calls, text messages… a sense of isolation. ‘Fact!’

After I’d cleared up the mess in the kitchen and Phorpain gelled the knee, I made another brew, of Glengettie tea this time, the mood rose… without any reason, nothing had changed, yet suddenly I was ashamed of myself – and self-loathing at my pathetic self-pitying took over.‘ Fact!’

There are so many others in a worse state than I am. Somehow, although it didn’t cheer me up, my acceptance of things grew. 

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

So I got on with this blog’s making.

Nemo Mortalium Omnibus Horis Sapit

LATE THOUGHT-STORMS!

As a young man, I thought I was a brainiac…
But that was sixty-odd years ago, way back,
I’ve been through periods of wine and Prozac,
Lived in a tent, then moved up to a wooden shack…
Cost of livings to high got to cut back!

I used to believe in Old Moore’s Almanac!
Bought a Robin Reliant, but I wanted a Cadillac…
That had to go because I got the sack,
Others had briefcases, me? A haversack!
I’ve never won the lottery, Monopoly, or blackjack…
Amazon, Facebook, eBay my computer track,
Maybe it’s because I’m a senile maniac?

TTFNski!

Inchcock Today

Which inspired Pro. Bill Ziegler to start building his Space & Time Machines in his basement. For his latest one, he took his beloved HRH Petal-Lisa with him. They sent me this photo.

Bill, now known worldwide as Professor Ziegler, PhD, In Humanitarian Studies. Initially based in Cincinnati, since the success of his Time Travel experiments, he is now operating from Paris (2049), Palestine (1974), Nottingham (Current), Germany (1925-1945-2015), Outer Mongolia (1911)and Britain (1155 years BC). He has been assigned by the FBI, CIA, Walt Disney Jnr and Joe Biden to nip back and get proof of fiddling in the last US elections. Hehehe!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Well, it’s not Telstar, but earth’s moon. I took a photo when I got up. What is impressive is I went and put the kettle on, and I’m talking about eight hours ago now, and I still haven’t made a mug of tea! Gobsmacking!

After faffling about starting many jobs and tasks, having to visit the Porcelain Throne a few times, and forgetting what I was doing beforehand… repeatedly, I started getting the photographs on the blog. Then realised I had not begun to prepare Josie’s Sunday meal yet. So, I did! Although I began to do well in the task at hand and maintained a modicum of concentration…

I prepared the vegetables, tomatoes, leeks, garden peas, soya and mushrooms in the saucepan. Then the beans and chilli were seasoned into pan two… I was almost at the stage of developing a Smug-Mode… until! . Oh, dearie me, a classic Whoopsiedangleplop, with an Accifauxpa to follow…
I’d just tasted the chillies before transferring it to the veg pan; and thought a squirt of more distilled vinegar would be a good idea. (It wasn’t). As I took off the bottle cap, the neurotransmitters failed, and I ended up juggling the bottle, getting soaked in vinegar, and layering the kitchenette floor with the escaping contents…

I had to delay the nosh-sorting to clean up the floor and my clothes. Then got in a spot of minor Conrad Confusion state. I was unsure of what to do first, sort the food? No, that’ll make the mess worse walking through it. So, into the wet room and got the mop and bucket out. And… that couldn’t have come at a worse time for me… I hit my knee on the sock-glide getting to the mop & bucket, and Cartilage Cathy kicked off, and I ended up moping the floor while using Metal Mickey, the walking stick! Not an easy thing to do! I had to stop and get some Phorpain Gel rubbed into the right patella. I was making things worse instead of better. However, when I dropped the mop and bent to retrieve it, a severe stab of pain and the cap had returned to the socket, no longer painful, just a smidgeon sore. Haha! Had my luck changed? No!

The door chime chimed, and in walked a late and not a very happy-looking carer, Joe. I rushed to finish the floor; it took about five minutes or so. I hastened to Carer Joe to take the medications; Joe met me at the door, anxious that he was not delayed any longer, as he had a lot on. Took the tablets, gave Joe a choice of tipple and nibble and went to the door to see him off. I forgot to ask him to take the waste bags. But I was feeling guilty for keeping him waiting. A low point in the day. But at least the kitchen floor was done.

I was still in a, well, erm…, a nervous state, I think. Still not happy with me getting mixed up and keeping Joe waiting, although he was far behind, he didn’t moan at me. I took a snap of the end car park from the balcony… that did not cheer me up in the least; It just brought back the problems I’m having with Facebook taking off all of my photos of the car park, the meals and me medical ones… others as well.
I’ve stopped using Facebook now..
. I’d like to close down my account altogether. Why are my photos not keeping to the standards of Facebook? I’ve seen some posts with swearing and anti-Royalty comments, and they seem to be okay with Facebook standards? Please let me know if anyone knows how to close a Facebook account. Mind you, I’ll lose my Troll Free access and Winwood Court too… Oh, I don’t know!
On the Blood Pressure, Sys was 147,
Not low or high enough to put me in heaven,
Dia 76, Pulse 81, Temp 34.1!

New medications on the collapsible table?
When? Who?… not rememberable…
Left in a bag unopened on the table.
When? Who?… not confirmable.
Pentac medicine’s effectiveness is disputable…
And Furosemide, another puzzle?
When? Who?… another bumfuzzle?
Dementia Doreen is blameable…

For my short-term memory not being retainable!

I should have used the glove or a towel,
To check on the oven-cooking gruel,
Peripheral Neuropathy makes you look like a fool.
When off-line, if things are hot or cool…
The nerve ends can’t tell the brain pool,
Neurotransmitter failures can seem cruel.

Some ailments will never be understood,
Peripheral Neuropathy, there’s not always blood,
Dying nerve ends are often misunderstood,
In fact, as above, they can be good…
The pain message is not precisely aborted,
This ailment needs to be excogitated!

No informing the brain of forthcoming pain or blood,
But belatedly gets the message through, it could…
Then you see the cut or bruise that bled…
Nowt the Doctors can do, it can’t be attempered,.
I imagine this will be why I’m found dead…
No need to fret, all the things wot I’ve been afflicted.

Twice I’ve been shot, and two cancers,
I’ve been given plenty of chances…
A metal ticker fitted, adiposes…
The stroke, Arthur Itis in both knees.
At 20 years of age came baldness,
Now cataracts, coming blindness.
Rotting teeth, deaf, body full of bruises,
Saccades, Glaucoma and diabetes,
Feet full of corns and calluses…
Mugged thrice, they weren’t pleasant,

Ankle and mouth ulcers,
Variable Blood Pressures and pulses,
Oh, and Pectic & Duodenal Ulcers,
Colin Cramps, fingers, toes agonise,
Harold’s Haemorrhoids bleed, a right mess,
And talk about absent-mindedness!
Now I’m full of abominableness…

So, life is now full of absurdnesses,
Paying for Carers and nurses…
Putting up with my pathetic curses…
But things could well be worse,
PN can, as I showed, have advantageousness,
My funeral cost has been covered!

But moments ago, from Jillie, she’s coming to see me!
This cheered my spirits automatically,
So, St Peter can wait patiently,
Cause I’m waiting to see Jill, besottedly!

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

I’ll get some nosh cooked before the Evening Carer calls.
Which I did, and took several photographicalisations while doing so, including the meal, a view from the kitchen window, and from the balcony. All 3 of the pictures have disappeared from the card?

I’m properly fed up!
The evening Carer arrived as I was getting the meal on the plate. The vegan burgers were well done when I got around to eating the meal
.
I’m properly fed up!

Evening All!

Inchcock Today: Rescued Photos

Due to Trotsky Terence causing me hassle and pain,
The Porcelain Throne visits happened again & again…
Dementia Doreen made my concentration transmundane,
I couldn’t find the camera, my language became profane,
After hours, the location was successfully ascertained…

Some form of hope, I started to regain…
However, they soon went on the wane…
The camera’s SD card had disappeared again!
I searched for hours… no hopes remain…
Doreen Dementia… a permanent bane!.

On and off for a day, I was frantically searching…
Up and down, my emotions ever lurching…
From never-mind to self-hating…
At times, mentally self-fustigating,
My psychological state… was beyond interpreting!

Leaving no stone unturned, I again started SD card seeking,
No luck, so I sorted out the laundry tub to do the washing…
Found the card in my pyjama top’s pocket; amazing!
So turned my attention to sorting the grazing…

I rather enjoyed this vegetarian noshing,
I found myself doing an awful lot of belching?
Fell asleep, to wake up and extrapolating,
Sorting the world out… hypothesising,
Starting with how to stop the MP’s hornswoggling,
But soon found this was too mind-boggling!

Checked on the plates and pins state…
They looked a lot better today, mate!
Nice, when I find summat to appreciate!
One day, I hope to see a little less weight…
A dream, more than a thing to anticipate!.

Better tend to my mornings ablutioning,
Cleaned the teeth, then on to shaving,
Had an excellent slow, steady session of showering,
Then on to the uncomfortable medicationalisationing…

I dried off, oiled and rinsed each earhole first,
Little Inchies fungal lesion done, with a blood-thirst,
Harold’s Haemorrhoids… painfully the worst!
Eye drops, mainly missing, Tsk! A curse!

Accifaupas dressing, an accidental photographing…
Dropped the camera, no damage, so not too vexing,
So, I took another of me posing…
This one came out to my liking,
Smug-Mode developing!

Found a shot of Ice-cream that’s Vegan…

I added some sprinkles, to it…
It gave the bad tooth some jip!
Amongst the contents are turnip?
I’m not bothered, I loved it!

The Blood pressure was well high…
The Body temperature is nigh on perfect!

Morning Car Park Piccies!

This morning’s waking view,
The Porcelain Throne needed going to…
I hit my shoulder as I was going through…
On the doorframe, I think I said thank you,
To Shaking Shoulder Shirley, too!

The evening dawns, is that the right word?
Not that anyone will be bothered…,
Cause later on,
I took these that outshone…
Nicer coloured, better favoured!
Then this beauty, later on

FOOD, GLORIOUS FOOD

And used it to make this super meal

The highlight was the vegan burgers, each eaten
twixt two slices of Milk Roll bread. The fresh
garden peas, tomatoes, and baby new
potatoes tasted excellent!
A pot of jelly & custard, and delightful
lemon mousse, to round it off!
GORGEOUS! Flavour Rating: 8.5/10

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

My mentality is being steamrollered,
My aims and intentions are steered,
I lose control, it’s time that I surrendered,
Unless I can get help… my brain mended…
My dreams are black & white, yet multi-coloured.
Ideas, plans destroyed or embroidered…
At their conception, logic was avoided,
Minimal new memories are remembered
Dark thoughts are often harboured…
But shortly, into the ether, they are melted,
Intentions and aims cannot be deciphered…
And I made them, I’m just dumbfounded…
Over nothing, I can get easily flustered,
When aims and fears amass and get clustered…
Which reminds me, I must get some mustard!

Inchcock’s Make Them Laugh in Ode Series

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?

Inchcocks Thoughts – In Odes Issue 13⅓rd

In Odes, not good ones… but Odes!

The number of humans on this earth is 7.87 billion at this time…
On the global internet, the users add up to 4,321,740 and 9!
So your chance of your blog going viral is fine…
But don’t expect it, as I did, then found a steady decline!
I hope you do much betterer with thine!
My last one got two likes and comments; one was mine!

It’s Doreen Dementia and Liberty-Global I blame,
It’s fun to me, but it’s all money… a shame!
Their service is as much off as on, and it’s a game…
Farcically, ownership Liberty-Global disclaim!
Telling the call agents not to ever mention their name!

Liberty-Global owns Virgin; the boss should resign!
For Mr Fries knows not what he is doing…
Or though maybe he does, he makes money fine?
It’s overpaying mugs like me that he’s screwing…
His bosses think that everything is fine…
With Fries shadowy, manipulative money moving,
All on paper, mist and mirrors… this profit maker-divine!

A gorgeous gal wanted me in the early hours of this morning…
Of course, I knew that I was probably dreaming,
This very fact, I found a little perturbing…
She insisted on closer, passionate probing,
To my delight, she was acquiescing…
We were soon manipulating and bouncing,
She was ready and asked for another trouncing,
No problem for me, and I began eagerly disrobing,
But my performance, I think, was unconvincing…
Surely she should have been rejoicing?
And as her knickers, she was replacing…
I attempted some more romantic seducing…
I found it embarrassing what she was saying…
“I’ll not call again; there was no pain – Where’s this leading?
I’m just glad I was only dreaming!

I thought the visit before was on the wet side…
But this evacuation was even more undignified
I failed to get there on time, my aim was wide…
I cleaned things up, taking it all in my stride,
In doing this, I felt an iota of pride!

Cleaned, refreshed, but I went from Jekyll to Hyde,
As I started to get things all antisepticised…
I dropped the Germoloid after it had been applied…
And trod on it, swore, and boy, how I did self deride!
The contents squirted all over, and my frustration intensified!

But this Throne visit had yet another downside to it…
Leaving the wet room, I misjudged the width a little bit,
Missed hitting into the frame; I gave myself a little merit!
Stubbed my toe on the airer; fell, hitting under my armpit!
All this cause I urgently needed a flipping sh__!

Thought Storms Erupted

The Thought-Storms erupted, irking, they attacked,
Insults, fears, and failures were lurking and squirted…
Self-loathing, diffidence, vacillation were not appreciated
New worries, old ones, insecureness… amalgamated!
It’s Thought-Storms like this that are most hated!

The cause of the forebodings could not be authenticated,
For reasons, causes, I waited and waited, breath abated…
Nothing was solved, understood or elucidated…
The logic-testing thoughts, endlessly circumlocuted,
My mind was failing, nervous and bloviated!

My resistance was worn down, crumbling, it wilted…
My own thoughts could not be filtered…
However, slowly the tormenting mind vegetated,
Which was good; the brain needed to be rested…
Along came a new wave of dichotomies to be wherrited!

Inchcock Thought Storms – In Ode

Inchcocks Bungee-Jump – Where, How and Why?

Inchcocks Bungee-Jump

There was a damsel I wanted to impress,
She was chunky, and I’d heard, easy to undress…
She loved a laugh and smiled at my stupidness…
But she admired men who showed fearlessness…
What could this whimp do with his faintheartedness?

I pondered, deciding on using fictitiousness!
Told her I was going bungee jumping, most unchivalrous,
Where? she asked – ‘Darley Dale on the bus…’
I’ll come to see you, she said. Oh, excessiveness!
Now to face my acrophobia… but not be loveless?

,

I got the motorbike mended, off to Darley Dale,
Picking up en route, the bonny lass, called Abigail,
I arrived at the festival and put on a swagger, to no avail…
From inside, my stomach churned; I must’ve looked pale…
I was putting myself through hell for a desirable female!

Nervous? Me? Yes, I could hardly breathe or inhale!
Searching for an excuse, I was feeling foolish and frail…
Yet I was laughing along with my beloved Abigail,
I looked up at the cherrypicker platform I’ve to scale,
Fear of heights and cowardice… will I die at Darley Dale?

I found a resolution by fearing being mocked should I fail…
Idea! Thump a Policeman, then they’d take me to jail?
But no, I must do this heroic act to impress Abigail!
If I live through this, fall in love, I’d tell the tale…
Or should I run away and search for the Holy Grail?

They booked my jump for about 1400hrs…
I sneaked away to the Pretty Flowers…
A quaint pub on the road to Alton Towers…
I drank three ciders and four pints of Guinness!
Enough surely to get me out of this?
I’ll never get up the ladder, being so pissed!

Walking back to the fair, when I was getting near…
The fresh air must have taken away my fear…
But it may have been something to do with the beer?
I started whistling and greeted the gang; I was feeling queer!
I cheerfully got into the bungee-jump helmet and gear!

.In the jumpers tent, all the others, some in over-leathers…
Nervously talking and bragging, being sick the others!
“Who’s first up?” most of them dithering and nervous!
I called, “Me first, captain!” The others finished their reefers…
Momentarily I thought, Did I take my beta-blockers?

Too late now, and I felt like a performer in a circus!
Abigail cheered me as I ascended,
I slipped on the ladder, hit my midriff and got winded,
Not enough for my bungee jump to be rescinded!
No stopping me now that I’d ascended…

I pressed on out to the platform… was this all a dwale?
Got out to the edge… shirt off, like a Chippendale…
Everyone from below could see I was a male!
The wind… suddenly blew a gale!
Down onto the ice-cream pole, my body did impale!

A Red Cross man arrived first. “Here, take this aspirin, cock!”
The whole thing was a shock and schlock!
And, I’d laddered my new knee-length bamboo right sock!
Why worry about that… it’s poppycock?
Mayhaps I’d gone into PTSD or shellshock?
The police arrived and arrested me for TWOC!

Inchcocks Make Folk Laugh in Ode Series 77⅘th