Befuddling Thoughts in bad poetry, from Inchcock! Part of the Nottingham Lads True Tales of Woe series

6Sat05

WDP 2019B01

I had a thought, the other day,

It would not go away,

But here I am to write it down today,

Huh! I’ve forgotten what it was, Oh, lackaday!

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WDP 003f

I was caught laughing on Monday morning,

The Doctor was worried,

To the psychiatrist, I was hurried,

Now I’m no longer able-bodied,

I believe insanity is dawning!

I’ll have parsnip soup tonight, curried!

———————————————————————

WDP 003k

I worry a lot nowadays,

Through my mind’s confused haze,

Why am I not confident, there’s a trail to blaze?

I’m old, decrepit and stuck in my ways,

 Life’s a pain, it’s been wretched in recent days,

Freeing yourself of worrying can be done; the Doctor says

Watch an old DVD of Dawson’s ‘Say’s Les’,

Act like Tommy Cooper, and wear a fez,

I worry a lot nowadays!

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WDP 01 right

Doing the ablutions is not an easy task!

I’ll cut myself daily having a shave,

To ease the pain, I take my hip-flask,

Whoopsiedangleplops committed,

Dizzy Dennis calls, and blood is flittered,

Shaking Shaun, makes me feel all forlorn,

The dropsies fall, sometimes landing on my corn,

Then I droppeth the showerhead,

Though sometimes, the Sock-Glide instead,

The Sock-Glide removes chunks from my finger,

But in the shower, I become a singer,

An older Elvis, I’m a dead-ringer,

Apart from being short and having no hair,

And I can’t sing, to be fair,

Life can be so cruel and unfair, so there!

But there’s help out there somewhere,

I just don’t know where. But do I care?

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WDP 09aR

Nowadays, and I think it’s a real pity,

Life’s full of astucity, atrocity and a definite caducity,

It’s still easy enough, for me to be friendly and witty,

But sadly, only through a silly internet ditty,

Doing hoovering, hand-washing and other domesticity,

Brings pain, agony in all its ferocity,

Arthur Itis, Anne Gyna, neurotmesis axonotmesisity,

Duodenal Donald, Reflux Roger, with their tenacity,

All combine, to stop the housework,

Someone call saying; ‘Look at this filthy dust. You idle burke!’

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GCPram

But life’s always been depressing,

It started when I was born you know,

Worries were soon rampant, though,

But I had my health,

  Even if, no wealth,

Britain had its Commonwealth,

I got through using cunning and stealth!


This post was formulated while Inchcock was waiting in the Mary Potter Treatment Centre for his ankle-ulcer, and bruised thigh from his falling off of the L9 bus to be treated. During which he had his Peripheral Neuropathy diagnosed.

Just thought I’d mention it, like.

Part of: The Nottingham Lads True Tales of Woe Series

 

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!

Lament to the end of the Weevil War – or is it?

Lament in Ryme

To the End of the Weevil War – Or is it?

Willmott Dixon started to upgrade my minuscule flat,
New windows were installed, that started the waring combat,
EIBWBBBs (Evil Ironclad Boll-Weevil black biting beetles) and a bat,
All came in and immigrated, hibernated, and that was that!
T’was eighteen months ago; and a long time is that,
They ate the food, and I was often bitten at!

Aug18p06b

It cost me hundreds of pounds,
Bug killers and traps did abound,
My coughing was the loudest sound,
But the poisoning of my lungs was allowed,
No help came, although I protested very loud,
I got the blame, NCH responsibility they disavowed!

4thur03a

I found the battle, very fascinating,
But no signs for months of their abating,
They found my apartment very accommodating,
And with the little Weevils, I started acquainting,
Although mixed in with some aberrating,
At least their bites had no sting!

4thur03a2

Spraying Rentokill three times a day became a realisation,
Their cunning skills at survival caught my appreciation,
The Rentokil put me more than them, into aestheticisation,
The numbers grew rapidly of their aggrupation,
If I was ever to win this war, this losing altercation,
I needed more help, stronger ammunition!

2017d

My health suffered from this losing situation,
My battle plans were in need of analysation,
I planned to use bleach, and soda as acidification,
But they just swam in it, I was losing with ambiguation.

aug18e

Of victory, I had no hopes nor anticipation, furthermore…
The effects of the spray left me with a cough and snore!
My further pleas for help, others did ignore,
Until another flat got the Weevils, they got help from me for sure!
Slowly the Weevil numbers faded, not so many anymore…
But occasionally, they’d return, these nasty, Weevil detrivore,
Last week, they came onto the keyboard while I used CorelDraw!
But yesterday was the first day when I saw them no more!

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Oh, sod-it! I just went to make a mug of tea and spotted this. Tsk!

5fri001b
Oh, Woe is me!

Rambling deep thoughts from Inchcock: In pathetic rhyme

Unfortunately, old Inchcock had one of his self-pitying moods this morning.

When he found he had new boils, acne and the Furosimide induced Wee-Wees were mega-active, with the tsnunami-like splashbacks being unavoidable!

Then he checked his fluid-filled containers he calls legs…

5fri004

Ah, that’s new boils on his back, bum and now new growths on his knees, as well as some more blood papsules showing on the pins!

These could be just a few reasons for his sad Thoughts Ode today? Hehehe!

jan04 2019

Created spontaniously from the mind of Nottingham City Homes Pensioner; in a moment of insanity and a blood of Furosemide induced Wee-weeing!

Christmas Day Morning: Inchcock ‘Aching All Over’

I woke up this Christmas Day Morning:

To find that the only parts of my horrendously Billy Bunter like body, that didn’t Ache or Hurt, there the left index finger and the right side of my right elbow!

I found myself singing, Johnny Kidd & The Pirates song, as Aching All Over in place of their, Shaking all over. The idea came to get some humour out of feeling so poorly, and I set about making this graphic, putting my version of the song in the yellow letters.

Dec 25 2018

Christmas morning, and all I could do was create this bit of fun.

Sad, innit?

Hehehe!

Hope you have a laugh, and a jolly good holiday!

TTFN.

 

Inchcock’s Ode to his beloved EIBWBBBs!

Just a few thoughts and recollections about Inchies EIBWBBBs

(Evil Ironclad Boll-Weevil black biting beetles)

Dec 24 2018

Having got acquainted with my beloved EIBWBBBs, who arrived when the new windows were being fitted in the apartment, I think I would miss them now if they were to move on to another flat. We’ve had many happy times together:

Oh, how they loved the new Spare Room Window, with its holes in the filler and plaster and the cracks to hide and play in!

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Of course, the new balcony being built brought them out in their hundreds, only to be slaughtered as their Guardian, Inchcock, spent hundreds of pounds of the last eight months of their sojourn in flat 72!

AA01

Above and below, the EIBWBBBs favourite hideout, the Wet Room. With its holes in the wall where could escape into the kitchen to the walk-in cupboard, climb in the wash basin for a swim, on the curtains so they could play at dive-bombing Inchcock when he has a shower… best of all, they had the escape route down the drain on the floor!

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When the balcony door was installed, they had a wonderful time coming in through the cracks in the plaster and holes in the sealant.

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The Kitchen was popular with the little mites.

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Not Classified but interesting!

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Before arriving here, as inmate 72 at Woodthorpe Court, I’d never seen a Weevil before in real life.

I have now!

Hehehe!

Bless ’em!

Inchcock’s Thoughts of the Week – In abysmal imitation rhyme.

Despite, the old hero’s Diarhorrea Trotsky attack, his Accifauxpas, tumbles, toe-stubbings, Haemorrhoid Harold’s Return, his Bleeding Fungal lesion, visits from Dizzy Dennis, Shaking Shaun and Shivering Sandra, his leaving the hot tap running again, and falling asleep in his computer chair (Him, mot the tap!), and his depressed state of mind: He is proud to present this week’s Thoughts in even more pathetic rhyme than last time!

Dec 23 2018

quip