Inchcock’s Doze, Prompted this Little Prose

Inchcock’s Doze, Prompted this Little Prose

Old Inchie fell asleep,

His nocturnal dreaming was so deep,

He managed as least, an hour of sleep,

He woke up, a quivering mental heap!

Here are the few bits, his memory managed to keep.

I was being pursued, by a mob, so violent and profligate,

Through corridors, offices all in an abandoned state,

They fired guns at me, I wondered what is my fate?

Then came across, a securely locked gate!

“Hello,” I thought, “You’ve had yer lot, mate!”

They caught me up, one with a tattoo on his forehead,

“Death to Inchcock, He must be bled”, it said,

Other’s followed on, I was surrounded,

But it was them, that became dumbfounded!

They removed their helmets, and put spectacles on,

One said: Ayup, he’s a right odd one!

I revealed and flashed my furuncles at them,

I squeezed the biggest boil, the pus you couldn’t stem!

 The purulence peppered into their faces,

Couldn’t have done a better job, if it was faeces,

They all ran off and were gone!

But the gang may come back, so to be sure,

I thought I’ll batter my way through this door,

I used my chin to batter my way through, why, I’m not sure,

But I remember, it was bloody sore!

I got outside, I was so elated,

Success? Surely this for me isn’t’ fated?

Victory for me? I was addlepated!

Out I climbed, and fell off of the roof!

Off to the hospital, to get medicated.

To the operating theatre, I was taken,

The anaesthetist smiled as he grabbed me by the neck,

As I saw the writing on his hat

And, I thought “Oh, flipping ‘eck!

And that was the end of that!


Inchcock was under the influence of liquid codeine, morphine sulfate, several pints of Strongbow cider, a swig of Dettol, and a bottle of Domestos lemon bleach.

But his suicide effort failed, so he wrote this ditty instead.

Hahaha!

Merci Mon Amis!

Inchcock’s Wet Walk in Nottingham!

Inchcock’s Wet Walk in Nottingham!

Inchies wet wander to Nottingham City Centre,

The rain would not relenter!

He got soaked, cold, and this he does lamenter! (Oh, dear!)

5Fri10

I started with my viewing the floods on the park,

I went out to picture it and fell over a lump of bark,

The flood was big enough to float the Bismarck,

Time to catch my bus, the flats I did disembark!

5Fri12

I got roughed up getting off of my bus,

Cursed getting soaking wet, Oh, I’m a right wuss,

But I pressed on to the Poundland shop,

My first port of call stop,

In search of some pfeffernuss!

5Fri13.

For a Police car, that’s dodgy parking,

No blue lights were flashing?

No Ossifers were in sight,

Should I investigate, make sure all’s alright?

But I didn’t, there might have been a fight!

5Fri14.

Shopping all done, I came out of the Poundland shop,

T’was all dark, it reminded me of Betty Wainthrope,

Made my way to the Bargain Shop, for some codswallop!

5Fri15

It was still cold and rainy, though,

I found a nice thick big throw,

At £19.99, I bought it, so…

5Fri31

In guilt, I found myself basking,

At the price that they were asking,

My mind needed an MOT and debunking!

I paid and left… Sulking!

5Fri017

I hid under a bus stop,

And emptied the rain-filled trolley-top tray,

From my shoes, I tipped the water away,

Then to Trinity Square, I made my way.

5Fri018

T’was abandoned by the Nottinghamian folk,

Was it the cold and rain that kept them away?

No man nor woman in view, not even a beggar bloke!

If they had come, they’d have just got a good soak!

5Fri019

Same at the top end, the populace had gone astray,

Might keep the muggers away, I pray,

And the shoplifters, where were they?

What happened to the 45,500 students in Nottingham today?

5Fri20

Down to Parliament Street on my way,

No people in Frankie & Benny’s,

Spending their pennies,

The few folks around, don’t look too happy or gay!

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In Slab Square there were a few more Pavement Cyclists about,

Some, were delivering food, Mange Tout, or maybe fried trout?

A couple on Long Row were close enough to give me a clout,

But, I was too cold and soaked to give them a shout,

And, I’d got a runny snout!

5Fri21

To the bus stop, to go home again,

Arthur Itis giving me pain,

I think the rain had affected my brain,

For I was contented, why? I can’t explain?

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

0001

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

Inchcock Today: Morning Thoughts: In a rhyme of sorts. Plus RIP to the Weevils. Hehe!

1Mon001

I wondered what each streetlight and house light might be hiding?

Each morning light out there,
Someone in despair?
Someone washing their hair?
Alcoholics here and there?
Old chap asleep in his recliner chair?
Up there, a plane in the air?
A shoplifter in their lair?
Perhaps a millionaire heir?
A vicar with a prayer?
Someone eating a fresh cream eclair?
Someone hearing burglars downstairs?
Old folks playing solitaire?
Even someone happy somewhere?
Someone, to admit voting for Tony Blair?
Someone with their Cocaine, necessaire?
A street-sleeper, future billionaire?
Someone battling nasty spyware?
Someone short on their bus fare?
A cross-dresser in his lady’s wear?
Someone singing ♫Be my Teddybear♫?
A mugger waiting in a thoroughfare?
Terrorists, planning guerrilla warfare?
Someone trimming their armpit hair?
Politician, changing his nom de guerre?
A Christian, reciting the Lord’s Prayer?
Looking for a policeman, full of despair?
Some might be out, taking in the night air?
Some with a food cupboard that’s bare?
Stealing a car, phone or a Frigidaire?
Some in places, not wanting to be there?
Loyal, abstainers or having an affair?
So many bodies and minds in disrepair?
In Brexit, they find nothing fair-and-square!
Voters for Brexit, Oh yea!

Are we all going as mad as a March hare?

I thank you!

1Mon01

A few WHERIBWBBISA Official Photographs of Weevils attacking in flat 72 Woodthorpe Court over the last few months or so… You get to like ’em after about six months!

A few from November:

 

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A few from October:

 

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A few from September:

 

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A few from August:

 

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A few from July:

 

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A few from June:

 

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RIP

Inchcocks Thoughts & Views on this Sunday Morning: In sort of rhyme…

7Sun03

Also written in the hopes of sum clever psycologikal doctor mite be able to help Inchcock in his fite for sanitty, edukasion and luv. FanK you.

The morning sky was coloured a soft dark blue hue!

Will someone want to speak to me today, but who?

I could do with a chinwag or gossip, one’s overdue!

What are other folks out there today, got to do?

Will they wake up all mixed-up and confused too?

Will I keep my sanity, bladder control, empathy and virtue?

Will today be peaceful, or full of blunders and hullabaloo?

Will I get to clean the wetroom, of Weevils and mildew!

Will I be able to think clearly today, or will I misconstrue?

Will I have Faux Pas, Whoopsidangleplops, make a Boo-boo?

Fall-over, dizzy-spells, fall asleep, bleed… I have a deja vu…

But I’ll stay cheerful, well, I’ll do my bestest to try too!

If fit enough, have a game of squash, bungee-jump or kung fu!

Phone Mrs May, or my Vow of Celibacy, I could renew?

In the above two lines, I’m afraid that I fibbed to you!

I hope anyone reading this, has a better day, I really do!

The £300 second-hand recliner, needs oiling, too!

My nocturnal-nibbles cut down on, nothing to suck-on or chew!

My fungal lesion’s swollen, tender, bleeding and gone blue!

Just another lonely Sunday for me to get through!

Ah, I know what I can do…

No, I don’t… Yes, I do, I’m going to…

I’ll sing a song… but that will upset the neighbours too!

Well, they already rightly think that I’m a little cuckoo!

But that’s a fair assessment and point of view!

Oh, dearie me, I’ll have to discontinue!

Must hobble-off now for yet another poo-poo!

Surviving a hobble down Clumber Street, Nottingham

09

If, by chance, you are elderly, poorly and unsteady on your feet,

A real challenge would be to hobble down Clumber Street,

Big Issue sellers, jugglers and street performers you’ll meet,

Mobile phone and TV sellers will collar you and browbeat,

Pavement Cyclist, skate-boarders infest this back-street, 

Risks of being knocked over and ran into high, as for space they compete!

02

It’s safer if you persistently wave your walking stick about,

Not that this would save you from the muggers without doubt,

And you’ll probably fall over giving your head a clout,

The pick-pockets are good, they’ll leave you with nowt,

For shoplifters escaping store detectives, you must watch out!

01

 Nearby competing take-aways, offer a variety smells, and a distinctive pong,

The first takeaway van offers goat meat sarnies, frogs legs and ox-tongue,

The next one sells Kangaroo, Ostrich and Beef from the Billabong,

Then the Asian chippy van, Japati with curried chips from Kawan,

Poo aloo, Pohe, and pickled pigeon from Choo Chong,

The usual that infest our City are there, to feed every tongue,

McDonalds, KFC, King Burger for which many Nottinghamians long,

So don’t fall over the packages that are where they don’t belong!

07

04

There will be some nice looking lasses as you hobble up and down,

Some so pretty and beautiful, they will hold you spellbound,

You lose your footing and fall to the ground,

Many Nottinghamians, will instantly gather around,

As they steal your wallet, they will pat you down.

Asking how are you, do you feel sound?

A cyclist or mobile scooter will hit you as you turn around, 

So remember, Clumber Street is the criminals playground!

Ageing and Waking up – Advice on what to expect!

01 meandGrizCreated by a 70-year-old Nottingham Pensioner, in support and advice for those amongst us who are approaching maturity and senescence, but without having first prepared for the coming nasty onslaught of their failing faculties, loneliness and the consequences of physical and mental disintegration that are imminently coming.

* * * * * * * * * * *

Waking up in the Morning

First thoughts, can you remember your nightmares you’ve just had,

Have you passed water or anything else that might be bad?

Did you take last nights medications?

Or have any more confusing aberrations?

Is life real, or just a fad?

*****

You’ll test out your moving parts and ailments early on, slowly of course,

The Arthritis, water filled legs, ankles, hands one by one, 

Is the Angina, reflux valve or ulcer giving you any bother at all? 

 Avoid when getting up, from having a dizzy or another fall.

*****

Moving quickly, must not be overdone!

What medical appointment have you today?

Will anyone call to see you? No, you reply in dismay,

Ah, you’ve to go to the clinic for your X-ray?

Or perhaps this in for next Monday?

Will you snuff it today, you cannot say!

*****

Then the serious stuff comes into your mind,

Which tea-bags to use, Yorkshire, Punjana or Co-op ninety-nine?

You begin to move, there’ll be a jolting pain down your spine,

You’ll have a little chunter, a curse and a whine!

*****

Bravely you grab the broken arm of the chair,

To ease yourself up, but you don’t get there,

Slumping back into your 1959 brown imitation leather armchair,

With steely determination you try again, ignoring the pain,

You must succeed, for you need to use the porcelain yet again!

The odds will be against you getting there are a crime,

You’ll stub your toe en route, this you’ll do more than one time,

Your piles will bleed, miss the bowl and think you’re going insane!

A cuppa will help, you put the kettle on while searching for your sock,

You’ll feel the wet warm dribble from your bleeding Inchcock.

*****

Then you’ll get another bit of a shock,

You’ve run out of your Dandelion and Burdock,

Looking at your kitchen clock, it shows it’s approaching only one o’clock!

At this stage, you’ll question your sanity and mental health,

Realising of stupidity, you have great wealth,

And you don’t really like your older self!

The end

Written in a moment of insanity inspired boredom and realisation

that the time is coming to reconsider the subjectivity of your

own self-detrimental thoughts are escaping into the ether.

Or something like that!