This week the News Snippets are reported, recorded and commented on, by The Nottingham Pensioner Lad, Inchcock (89).
Alto-Ego Inchy: I apologise for the Odeing included in the comments. But the lad has had minimal education. Now, with him contracting Vascular Dementia, as well as various other ailments; Hearing aids, mechanical ticker fitted, Glaucoma, Saccades, Cataracts, Stroke, Peripheral Neuropathy. His tendency to either waffle on, lose the plot or regularly forgets what he was doing, where he is, or where he was going; does not make for readable poetry. But there’s no stopping him. He only sulks when I point out these and other failings to him. Sorry.
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Well, this looks good,
Be happy surely we should?
Read the next one and chew the cud!
Your interpretation will go down with a thud!
I’m aware of how they feel, every patient,
I’m waiting on may a medical appointment,
Dentist, Chiropodist, Doctors yearly check…
That’s been a wait of three years, by, heck!
Audio, DVT and Cardiac…
Then the operation on the cataracts,
Glaucoma and Saccades and the Diabetes in fact…
Will I live long enough to get my treatments?
Sozzled, drugged up, and a man with a violent bent,
But will there be a return to prison requirement?
Easier for him to get drugs in there for his sustainment?
Maybe they’ll offer him some mental treatment?
Tell him sorry if this is inconvenient…
Give him some cocaine and pay his rent?
Run of the mill stuff, for the Nottingham creed,
I understand that he was a gynaecologist,
Nothing suspicious, the chap wasn’t a druggist…
Police won’t look too far into this…
With nine officers attacked and on the sick list!
The Police and I…
Have no idea why,
So sorry the lad had to die…
RIP son… It makes you cry!
No matter why – Animals!
All this violence, drugs, gangs, I comprehend?
Slave importers, youths will re-offend…
No deterrent do the courts send…
Viciousness threatens, it’s today trend…
And I think it will only worsen!
A judge was I thought the only person…
Who could, these crimes amend…
But no, so I’m scared and disheartened!.
Well, this is interesting news for Sherwood…
A 48% increase in crime figures, should…
make my blood boil, make me angry and rude!
I’m not surprised, I’ve not seen a policeman since May!
Didn’t even see one on Tuesday…
Plenty of yobboes lurking…
Don’t suppose they are working?
I just pray they don’t mug me today!.
Raliegh, John Players, Debenhams, Topshop, Oasis, WH Smith, Burton & Dorothy Perkins, River Island, Banks closing down, Virgin Media sold to Liberty Global and has been ruined by them, Macintoshes, Rowntrees, Frys, Cadburys all sold to Nestles…
But fret not, we have 14 new takeaway shops opened… even though 12 went bankrupt in the last year?
Well, looking at my arm that’s encouraging.
So, basically, she’s got 25 days, what an hour a session? Going to some Community Centre; probably gets a free meal, and she can do some drug trading at the same time. I assume that courts will be providing her with a taxi both ways?
Don’t forget, when it’s wet, Aspro keeps you dry,
A saying from my youth, putting this in, you may think why?
Sorry, I’ve not got the foggiest, I’m losing it, I cannot lie!
So, the police take it seriously if it’s been reported?
A passing policeman saw it; would he be uninterested?
Oh, my sarcasm is at its peskiest!
By the time I’d read this, I’d a headache from my arithmophobia!
The NHS workers are well above being mediocre…
The pressure they’ve been under must have been a live-changer,
Can’t we do something, so they can have a recharger?
To give them a decent pay rise – reading this, Boris, you minger!
I don’t mean to be a rumourmonger or scandalmonger, scaremonger, But I’ll hold my hands up to being a gossipmonger!
But why does a Tory like what Boris used to be… Nae, not really!
Pay big raises to some, and others are not so feely-feely?
Boris is not a low-lifer… more like a copy of Lucifer?
Whatever your view; I think it’s the type of politics you prefer
Are politicians, each one a philanderer, or pilferer,
Are they better than a postman or scaffolder?
A lot of them get caught, exposing their doojigger…
Expense fiddlers, tax-dodger, or some a doppelganger!
They all seem to quickly point their forefinger…
They’ll make one if there isn’t a political cliffhanger,
Some MPs are better than others at propaganda…
I think of them when I’m using my guzunder!
Cause they take the piss, lie, cheat and plunder…
Cunningly increasing prices, they invest with a Luxemburger…
Still, bless ’em, they have a lot of money to launder!.
The grey cells seem to have got a bit mixed up here, doing this little ode below. The plot sort of evaporated. I ended up having a go at the politicians. Nothing new, I know, but usually, I can control these urges. Getting it back online, in a fashion, took me ages. Sorry!
Figures and numbers again, what an ache,
They can be manipulated, for the politicians’ sake!
For the politicians and wealthy, caviar at Le Gavroche,
Where a dinner cost around $590 per person, Ouch!
Still, I’m content with my cheesy potatoes and a fishcake,
Too much and rich food gives me the tummyache…
Anything rich, like roast quails, venison or cheesecake,
My finances are tight, my bank interest is opaque,
I’ll stick with the base food brought over by Francis Drake?
Potatoes, chips, mash, roast or raw… I always want more,
It’s the prol’ in me, I’m used to struggling, always been poor,
I’m at ease with plebs; they try to nick off of you, I assure…
But by my having nowt they haven’t got, I’m safe for sure
I need nowt else, no desire for haute couture!
Yep, in all things and areas, I am, at best, demure…
Just as well that I’m no epicure…
I’ve lost track of what I typing about – a mental rupture?
Intelligence, education, long ago I did disinure!
I’m not doing a lot for Nottingham’s tourist industry here!
When I see such figures, confident, I’m not!
Then again, who am I, intelligent, clever… You what!
I had faggots and potatoes for lunch… but it matters not!
How are these numbers arrived at and begot?
Are they accurate, true, to be trusted, or am I a clot?
I think they are part of a political plot…
Believing them leaves my brain in a knot,
Is truth doctorable, like a camera shot?
Have they been got at by a Judas Iscariot?
Are they genuine? Or fiddled, and tommyrot?
Or, am I a thicker than I thought fusspot?
Murderers, murderers who tell people they are going to kill someone an hour before they do, and the pathetic namby-pamby, out of touch with reality, criminal fancying, Arf-arf, judge tells him he believes you didn’t intend to kill him. Humph! No, you bewigged Pratt! The drugs made him do it, which are supposed to be illegal! No wonder crime is rising, with pillocks like this giving laughable sentences for murderers, and he can’t remember the evidence!
But it doesn’t bother me, oh, no!
Reminds me of a humorous happening that occurred when I was recovering from the heart op in the City Hospital. I was to be allowed visitors that day and had an appointment with the DVT Clinic in the morning. They collected me, and the chatting merrily nurses that took me to the clinic stopped in the main corridor and asked if they left me there for a couple of minutes, would I mind?
No problem, I replied. (I got the crossword book and pen snuck under the blanket on the trolley). I fell asleep, though… I was woken by a very concerned and harassed looking and sounding nurse.
I’d been there apparently, for over two hours, and no one had missed me. (It’s with me being so popular, Haha!) Sister Jane and Pete had come to visit me to find an empty bed – Poor Jane was genuinely concerned (I owed her a tenner – Haha, only joking!)
Up and onwards, near the end now…
So, if anyone fancies a lovely peaceful break over Easter, Covid restriction permitting; Why not visit Nottingham. They have a few cafe’s that have not gone bankrupt during the lockdown. If you fancy staying, there are many retail units available for sale or rent on the half-mile stretch of Mansfield Road available… You might even consider moving to Nottingham? No? I don’t blame yer!
Part of The Inchcock Make Em Laugh with Odes Series
0145hrs: Seemed to shoot awake and found myself looking around the room for an old lady who had been in my dream, and blimey, it felt so real.
The lady floated down through the ceiling and hovered above me, then sank down and stood in front of me – I got the sensation that I knew her, but was aware even at the time, that I didn’t? I thought, this can’t be a dream because she has a shadow, so she can’t be a ghost either. Thewhole thing only lasted a few seconds; well, it felt like it to me. She spoke with the most beautiful Welsh accent: “You must not donate, they will come for more, and you will fatally give more… Remember this, my love…” and she faded away while blowing me a kiss?
Afterwards, I thought, perhaps she got the wrong address? Hehe!
Not the most interesting of dreams to remember, but I felt so much like it was actually happening.
I had to pull back my mind from this and make an effort to rise out of the £300 second-hand recliner and off to the Porcelain Throne. This session could best be described with two words: Messy and Yellow! We’ll say no more. Cleaned up and off to the kitchen.
Did the health Checks and took the medications. Made a brew and got the computer on to finish yesterday’s post and sent it off.
0240hrs: Remembered that I needed to go down to the Laundry room and get the clobber cleaned, so I did. Collated the equipment and washing, down to the foyer on the way to the cleaning room.
Three new posters from Jenny, on the wall. The saddest sign of the year greeted me on the board facing the doors as I got out of the elevator. Dear old Eddie has passed away. An amazing man, who everyone liked or loved, a treasure lost. This photo I took is of Eddie enjoying his tipple on 16th December 2016 in the Social Hut. Cheers mate! Of course, now I am banned from making any snapshots of the residents nowadays.
Another poster was on the wall, from Jenny. (Busy gal!) informs us of a possible sneak thief in our midst!
I’d have thought a CCTV camera would have been installed in such an establishment as this. Not only or primarily to catch or identify naughty people, but to monitor the health condition of the Senior Citizens. Even those stealing from other pensioners! Just a thought.
Last of the posters, might seem inconsequential compared to the other two. But, it is kind of Jenny to remind us of this availability on a Saturday, and for opening it up for our use if wanted. Personally with the buses on a Saturday being only every two hours, and a total of four, if I go out on a Saturday, I tend to get confused and often miss the bus back.
I don’t know why I mentioned that, cause I get confused most days. Hehehe!
Got the washing in the machine and back up to the apartment.
Started to do this post, then back down to move the washing to the dryer. Oh, dear, the dryer filter looked like it had not been fluffed-out for several washes. And the sink was disgusting! Looked like someone had been plastering a wall and cleaning the tools in it! I’ll take some spray down with me on the last trip.
Up to the flat. Took this photograph out through the window.
No frost or ice this morning.
I started this post updating. Time flashed by and back down to the launderette to collect the clobber and titivate the room a bit.
Got the clothes folded and packed into the bag. Cleaned the filter and wiped the casings.
Then tackled the sink that someone had left in a right state. I reckon it might be one of the new tenants because this has never occurred before.
The grime took a long while to get cleaned off; it had an alabaster-like texture to it.
I opened the washers to freshen the insides a little, and in the first drum, I found more alabaster-like patches stuck on it?
So I cleaned them off, but they were easy to remove, not like those marks in the sink.
Then, as I was opening the door to leave the room, Hernia Harry started giving me grief suddenly? This might have been caused by the bending down or scrubbing away at the sink. Either way, he was not welcome! Hehe!
0435hrs: All the clothing stored away, accoutrements placed in the laundry bag ready for use on the next wash. Kettle on and made a brew. As I sat down to continue with the updating of this post, Hernia Harry again let me know he was active.
Did the graphic above of the dream and put it at the top of this post.
Made a graphic for the TFZers:
Nearly time for the ablutionisationing. Quick bash on Facebook and WordPress reader, them off to scrub-up.
Teggies done, then shaved. A Jolly nice shower was taken. Medicated the areas in need and got the rubbish bags to the and down the waste chute. Tried to make sure I had everything needed.
Took this photo just before leaving. The mist cleared, but the rain did not.
And guess what I forgot to take with me. My hat! I realised when I got out into the rain, Well, I would wouldn’t I? Haha!) Too late to go back up now to fetch it, I thought if I did, I’d miss the bus. I’ll see if I can buy a cheap one while I’m in Arnold.
Got to the Obergruppenfureresses Hut and had a quick chinwag and laugh with some other residents. Then caught the bus into Arnold. Nice chit-chat with a lady passenger. Made her laugh a bit, and that cheered me up.
Out in the rain and into another shop. Every one also too large. I popped into the Poundstretcher and got some black waste bags and a fabric refresher.
Called in the butcher and got some shop-cooked belly pork. Then in the big store and checked out their hats on sale. Every cap was too small, apart from one that was far too large.
Walked, getting wetter as I plodded on, to Asda (Walmart). First I went into their clothing section, and believe it or not, every hat they had was too small for me!
Spent a good while nosing around the food shelves and ended up getting: Four more tins of the curried baked beans, pork steaks, tomatoes, mushrooms, nibbles, a parsnip, a turnip, green beans, sliced red onions, sugar-snaps, Cox’s apples, orange yoghourts, and a TV Magazine.
Paid the nice gentleman on the till what I owed and made my way to the bus stop. Where I met fellow tenant Roy from the fourteenth floor. Good chinwag. Welsh Bill and four other residents got on the bus in Sherwood. Welsh Bill said he had now sorted his radiators out, he hoped. The Company that manufactured them told him to reset to factory standard. Which he did, and all seems well now, but he has not had a monthly bill yet, so he’s see what happens then.
All off the bus and they all went into the Social Hut. Roy caught me up before I got to the flats and I told him about Polish Eddie, pointing out the notice Jenny had put up about it. His only concern was the stealing of the Bone China cups. The other fellow with us, kind chap (I hope he is not the noisy Herbert from above me – He wasn’t, he got out of the lift on the 11th storey) Said our farewells, and I got into the apartment and had a wee-wee.
I was about to get the fodder unloaded as one of the Willmott-Brown external platforms came up passing the kitchen window. Although I didn’t catch them by the time I got the camera out, there were three women workers on it. That could be awkward if they found any bloke stripping off in his bedroom? Hehe!
I had a terrible thirst on me. Guzzled no end of orange juice from the fridge.
Unloaded and checked the items bought with the receipts. No overcharging today. Although some git gave me a five-Peseta coin in with my change! Humph!
Got two of the pork thingies, Shoulder Steaks, that’s them, and trimmed some parsnips and turnips, plopped them all in the slow-cooker with some pork gravy granules and a drop of Maggi in the water. The sugar-peas and green beans I can cook separately later in a saucepan afterwards.
Took the hearing aids out and noticed they needed a little TLC.
Got the tools out and de-waxed them, poked the tubes out and washed them. Then changed the batteries.
I was pleasantly surprised at how the fingers let me get the task done. No freezing or twinges. Then I realised that apart from the still stinging poor old feet and Little Inchy bleeding, the other ailments seemed to be giving me a break today? Good Stuff!
Putting the things back in the medical drawer and shook it a bit, and the Enoxaparin needle fell off of the top and shattered. As I recall now, I might have muttered something like “Well, fancy that!” at the time.
Poured out another giant mug of orange juice and got the computer on to update this diary.
Half an hour or so later, I went to check on the crock-pot and remove some fat that had floated to the top. And refilled the mug with orange juice. Why this thirst? Is it due to the radiators? Can the Aliens take the blame? Have I got a cold coming on?
The tiredness dawned. And I decided to set the alarm clock to remind me to check the pork and get my head down for a bit. One last check on the crock-pot before I got my head down, and to my surprise, the pork was well cooked and ready. No head down for me yet. I turned down the slow cooker and got the vegetables cooking. Sugar peas and beans in one saucepan and mushrooms with Soy sauce in the other and prepared them quickly. Got two part-baked cobs in the oven.
Can you see the face in the pork steak?
Picked out the turnips and parsnips from the cooker, then the pork onto the plate. Put things in the sink to soak as I went along. Added the veg and sliced tomatoes. Added the chips, two cobs and lemon mousse to the plate and got settled to dine rather well, I thought. Another mug of orange juice.
I purposely ate slowly. Savoured this much-better-than-of-late feast. Rated this as a 9.4/10 effort. I think cooking the parsnips and turnips in with the seasoned pork turned out to be a good idea. I slowly voraciously devoured and decimated all in front of me. (Not the cutlery or tray, you understand? Hehe!)
I put the dish down and drifted off into slumber. Woke-up shortly afterwards in desperate (I thought) need of the Porcelain Throne. Out of the £300 second-hand recliner with relative ease and lack of pain and got myself seated on the Throne… wind and nothing else evacuated. Read a bit of new book while waiting. I was well-awake of course by the time I gave up, still have the sensation that I needed to ‘go’.
Took this photo of the rather beautiful sky.
I washed the pots up, feeling in a sort of haze of thoughts, everything and everything seemed to come into my mind for pointless considerations. Terrorism, Brexit, the radiators in the flat, Hippy Hilda, which tea-bags were the best, Poor old Eddie, Fooey, Dad, the lack of buses, hearing aid problems and I felt sorry for Teresa May having to cope with the mess that the coward Cameron had run away from, sorry for my not getting a proper education. Oh yes, the mind did its own thing, wandering off on tangents and I just let it go.
Which was not a good idea as it turned out. Cause I got the pointed end of the steak knife stuck down a fingernail while drying the pots! Still, it brought the mind back to reality. Haha! It also made me realise I had not done the Health Checks nor taken the medications, so I belatedly did so.
Once again I got settled down. I think the mind must have felt guilty at letting me stab myself and gave me a rest so I could nod-off quickly, which I did.