1950-60s Tin Bath Uses – In Ode

A short odeing session. My memories of the unexpected usages of the ‘Tin Bath’ that resided most of the time, in the soot-covered viaduct wall out in the back yard of Brookfield Place, Nottingham.

Traditional Usage

The tin bath hung on the viaduct wall for ages; why?
Used for bathing once a week, oh, my…
Unless Dad was working that Saturday, this I can ratify
It was occasionally used for other purposes, I’ll identify…

Coal Moving?

Twice a year, we’d get a ton of coal delivered for free,
Mostly slack, very few actual lumps in it, you see,
Someone had to sort and sift through it; that would be me!
So, I was allowed to get black and dirty, temporarily…
The coal was tipped into the bath on delivery…
The bath got all bent out of shape, a pity…
I’d start with the sieving, somewhat tetchily!
Move any lumps into the coal house, repeatedly,
But it was, of course, a necessity,
It took me hours, Dad would pay me 3d, haughtily!

♥ Auntie Kerry… the fondler ♥

Cleaning the bath hurt terribly…
Dust in the eyes, throat made me feel sickly,
The thought of bathing next was lovely,
As long as it was conducted, by my Auntie Kerry!
I was too young to know of things as nookie!

The Hartleys Arrive – Bloodbath!

It really surprised me, she bought a live turkey,
She fed it up and had to kill it, you see…
She chopped off its head, it still ran around running free…
Such a culture shock for me…
The yard was covered, slimy innards, and very bloody!

Tin Bath To The Rescue!

Dad came up with a solution for next years bloodbath,
They could use our galvanized tin bath…
To contain the turkey, thus less backyard backsplash?
As I recall, they used the leftovers to make goulash?

Gawd, I miss these neighbours!

I thought I’d miss seeing the first manned spaceflight,
Yuri Gagarin, I heard it on the radio, in the papers, alright…
Leslie called; Mrs Hartley sent me a remarkable invite…
Watch it on our TV; they even gave me sarnie, of Marmite!

Part Of Inchcock’s Memories In Ode Series.

Inchcock’s Sunday – In Ode

Mud Gorning

Today’s Intention

To make the bestest ever chilli bean con-carne for Josie!

I awoke, full of youthful spring, on a high!
Jumped out of the recliner, nice and spry,
I moved so quickly, my body sinewy…
Then I wondered, why? Why why?
It was cause I was dreaming…
So that was a lie!

Woke up proper, and the feet were aglow,
Red they were, great; I sang a divertimento…
No pains or pot-marks on foot or toe…
No bloating at all, although…
I’ll not get excited; I’ll see how it does go!.

The moon still just glowing, up in the sky,
I tried to take a good photo, I did try…
But they didn’t come put well, Sigh!
I was not disappointed enough to cry!

Washed and got on the computer to work,
Got to start this blog; I will not shirk…
Even if I get it wrong, and feel a burke!
But it took me seven hours to do, what a twerk!.

Can you see no lousy parking in the end car park?
First time for over a week now,
Spying on neighbours… innit a lark?
But I enjoy doing it somehow!

Started to prep Josies’ meal, with assiduousness,
How it will come out, tinged with capriciousness,
My determination was keen, even veracious!
I pressed on, for once not losing my focus,
Took my time conscientiously, no rush…
Sister Jane rang me, thus the distractedness,
But lovely to chinwag, even with partial deafness,
Tasted the progressing food with curiousness…
Oh, to my tastebuds, a lovely flavour did gush!.

Gave it some tweaks…
Beef, beans, Tomatoes, peppers, and leeks,
Best I’ve made for weeks…
Added some sliced steaks…
And, no cuts on the knife, for heavens sakes!
Saying that, as one of my renowned mistakes!.

Stabbed missen with the skewer, what a clot!
But it didn’t bleed a lot,
Then burnt my finger, the pan was hot!
Then dropped a shallot…
Also forgot to put in the carrot!
Oh, that was three things on the trot!
Still, I dun well don’t yer think…What?

All ready to dish up anytime now, success!
Oh, I hope it shows taste and deliciousness,
I got it served on the tray with daintiness…
Nothing too much bother for Josie’s,
Determination today was dauntless!

My search for perfection was ceaseless!.
Got it delivered, without any clumsiness,
She liked the look of the food, and thus…
Had a little chat, and Josie took in in a rush!.

I was contented with my actions taken thus,
Onto the computer, and I got an afflatus…
I’ll do the blog before cooking my potatoes,
But there came a sudden hiatus!
Rushed to the Throne, but twas not calamitous,

Twas a long, challenging evacuation, somewhat circuitous,
The crossword book nearby, that was fortuitous,
Pain, messy, the Germoloid was medicamentous,
All done, left feeling I’d done summat momentous…
And found another bill from the dentist had been sent to us!

Bungleackers!

Just took a tumble going to start my meal prepping.

I got cooking this wrong, no idea why!
I forgot the mushroom, chestnut fungi,
It looked fine. I used the usual formulae,
The meat tasted awfully dry,
Tasteless spuds, my culinary skills died?
Thank heavens Josies tasted good; that, I can verify!

ArrivuaAriverderc... Arf Weider… Cheers!

Part of the Nottingham Lads True Tales Of True Woe Series

Chinwag With Alto-Ego Inchie!

Confounding Confusionableitis!

Time for a proper chinwag with Alto-Ego Inchie. Who I consider as much a mental ailment like all the other medical ones. I am determined to free myself of his persistent, nagging interference in my thoughts. His mission it seems to me is to make me feel guilty, inadequate, inconsequential, ineffective, and insignificant.

Which he has in fact already successfully achieved.

Although, possible beyond the understanding of anyone normal mortal, and maybe anyone who does not have a cruel, Alto-Ego, nagging away, analysing, mocking and criticising your every decision, and choice, one makes or decides on.

This natter took place last night as I lay in bed, with the notepad near to hand, and took place in several episodes! Sleep was certainly not an option for me…

Inchcock Opens The Chinwag Session:

Inchcock: I can sense your sneering and contempt Inchie, and I have to say you are a bane!
Inchie: Huh! Do yer fink I like being stuck in your brain!

Inchcock: Then go away, stop giving me mental pain!
Inchie: What the hell do think it’s like in here? In your dithering, feckless, vacillant thought-filled indecisive brain?

Inchcock: That’s it, go on, put me down, mock again…
Inchie: From human contact, you should refrain…

Inchcock: You said that when we last spoke, now again?
Inchie: Oh, a comeback from Inchcock, I’ve heard better insults from solid lepidomelane!

Inchcock: Erm… lepidomelane? Wot’s that then? Explain!
Inchie: When you read fings, facts you should retain!
Inchcock: Did I read about lepidomelane?
Inchie: Yer! In 1963, yer pea brain!
Inchcock: I’ve got Vascular Dementia, mental pain…
Inchie: Oh shurrup! Abarght time yer took yer Novocain?
Inchcock: You’ve changed the topic, confused me, yer know that makes me go brain-lame!
Inchie: Course I do, you pillock, I’ve had enough of this game…
Inchcock: What games that’s then, are you on cocaine?
Inchie: Yer coming owt with the insults tonight Inchcock! Enough! This topic’s getting too urbane…
Alright, I’ll piss off then!

Inchcock almost nodded off, when Inchie Returned!

Inchie: Hey-up, I’m calling back in defiance!
Inchcock: Why? Have no cognisance!
Inchie: Thought I might catch you on the loo, by chance…
Inchcock: You ‘horrible scumball! You no allegiance?
Inchie: Allegiance? Any idea wot that means?
Inchcock: I learnt that when in my teens!
Inchie: Huh! Gonna give me more gibberish?
Inchcock: Well, thanks for your pertinent attendance…
Inchie: Eh? Playing tricks? Do you mean good riddance?
Inchcock: Well, yes, I do, I’ve had enough of your cruel words!
Inchie: Wot, me? You’re the one spouting insulting words…
Inchcock: Am I? I was just making some lemon curds…
Inchie: What out off… Turds?

Inchcock ignored the Alta-Ego – With Difficulty Mind

He mellowed a little, and went deep in thought, until Inchie returned, and was ready to mislead the interloper…

Inchie: Wotsup, dogbreath? Pissed-off again, blockhead?
Inchcock: Oddly I thought that is what would be said…
Inchie: What’s yer game, that was said well mannered?
Inchcock: It’s up to us both, kill this mutual arguing, time to get together, and start apologising… not endangered!
Inchie: What? Am I being outmanoeuvred?
Inchcock: No mate! My wish is for you to get scunnered!
Inchie: You mean like, we get together and schnockered?
Inchcock: That’s it, we can have our relationship bettered!
Inchie: Summat wrong ‘ere… you and me, get stonkered?
Inchcock: Yea… let our animosity be withered!
Inchie: Why? you dare not… your lily-livered!

Inchcock: Hahaha! Such a poetic turn of phrase!
Inchie: Well, I’m not used to giving praise…
Inchcock: Oh, it’s easy, ns so many ways…
Inchie: Worra yer mean?
Inchcock: We could take time out, play the Steinways…
Inchie: Yer…
Inchcock: Go on holiday, as stowaways?
Inchie: Oh…
Inchcock: Have a drink, see where our hands stray…
Inchie: Hang on, are you after me body?
Inchcock: No, you haven’t got one, although you can have some control over mine, anyway ♥,
Inchie: Not ‘aving that… but then I couldn’t… could I?
Inchcock: not sure, but I’d risk it if you will. I’m free on Wednesday?
Inchie: Erm… I’m not used to this, who’s gonna pay?
Inchcock: You pay in enjoyment, we both can on the day?
Inchie: Hey, hey, hey… Could we just stop arguing, and have a laze?
Inchcock: Certainly, and we could have a few hoorays?
Inchie: I feel my emotions coming ablaze…
Inchcock: I could bring some bottles… Chardonnays?
Inchie: Surely it can’t be done? No ways!
Inchcock: You Pratt! You’re only in my mind! Best then if we return to our mental, non-verbal affrays!

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Inchcock was arrested and rushed to the Psychiatric Hospital by paramedics, after being caught making rigorous love to his non-existent Alto Ego Inchie, in the balcony of his flat this evening.

The Doctor told the Inchcock Today reporter: “We managed to stop his weeing with excitement, and finally convinced him was not having sex for the first time in his life. He is currently being treated for Psychotic Manic Depression.

Luckily the Doctor on duty had treated Mr Inchcock several times before over the years and had a straight jacket to hand.

Inchcock is expected to be released in a few years, providing he doesn’t kick the bucket earlier! (He’s getting on a bit)

Part of the Inchcock Make ‘Em Laugh Series

Ode to Maintaining One’s Sanity – Part Four or summat

In an odd mood this morning, folks, sorry, The early morning perkiness indicates me; Has done a bunk, I fear! Grugglebogness! Worries over the increase in carer fees, but my stepdaughter Jill (not really, but she ought to adopt me!), is helping me out again and investigating why I have been told I will be paying it from last Monday, but no one has told me how much it will be? I fret so easily nowadays. Hehe!

There was a time long ago, I w fascinated by Dennis Wheatley,
His character, Gregory Sallust, I thought was top quality,
Cunning, dedicated, loyal, brave with great chivalry,
I’d get back from the local hostelry,
After drinking and revelry…
Fall up or down the stairs accidentally,
Badly affected, alcoholically.

Working and drinking made my entire constellation,
For years, there was no guilt, and no contrition,
Boozing gave me a social connection…
I enjoyed it, beer and me had a cohabitation,
My taxes paid, drinking gave me no consternation!

Then one day, suddenly I decided out of the blue,
To stop my drinking ale, swearing never again to do!
The hardest thing I’d ever done, I can tell you!
I’ll not go into my suffering hullabaloo,
Never since have I drank plonk or used a corkscrew!

Now, so many years later, life is barren…
Of so-called friends, all abandoned me again,
Now I am an aged, sickly doyen…
Miserable, grumpy, but clean-shaven,
Clean-shaven? Why was that written?
I always wanted to be a Tibicen,
A flutist, but that’s probably not relevant,
I’m wandering here a bit, having a vent,

Not a vent… Erm… having a mental orbit!
Feeling a bit of a twit,
Misspellings lost words, things miswriting…
I’m losing it again, Gawdamit!

My confidence is getting titchier,
My mood is definitely schmaltzier,
My trips to the Throne frequenter
My Gawd, that’s four times this morning…
What is happening?
Each visit gets messier!
Stomach aching and is paunchier!
The passing of wind is getting noisier,
Evacuated product is meatier!
Every frequent wee-wee grows oozier!
It’s a good job that I’m no longer boozier!

It’s the memory that confuses me most,
I try, and I’ve not yet given up the ghost,
The brain nowadays is a far outpost…
Gives me access once or twice daily, at most!
But still, I remain chatty and verbose…
Seeking peace and inner glasnost,
And the ability to do my blogpost!

The Carers come twice a day; most are congenial,
Show patience, as I get confused, me being demential,
Some take my rubbish to the bin, others are contractual,
The good ones outweigh the not so good; it’s factual!
I usually get the shakes and a wobble…
Some chinwag, they go to that trouble,
This leaves me in a contentment bubble!

I like to think that I am still trainable,
But memory loss is always unavoidable,
Although, day to day it can be changeable,
That’s when I can get feeling unamiable…
And, I believe there is only me blameable,
Guilt can make contentment unavailable,
Thinking at times that I should be throttleable,
Then a kind act is given, and I get the unattainable,
And life is temporarily less circumscriptible,
Then no longer think I’m gullible or sulliable!

Some mornings I seem to transmogrify…
One leg fluid-filled, ‘tother thin, don’t know why?
Then there is Saccade Sandra, in my right eye,
My spectacles, the optician has to rectify,
He’s a snotty bloke, but at least I know why…
Last time I visited their pig-sty,
I warned the Lady of Peripheral Neuropathy, why?
Cause I’d had it bad, arm and leg shaking, me oh my!
The arm shot out, making her test lenses fly…
Her stare said she wanted me to painfully die!
The ladies hatred, I could not nullify!
So, going there again could make me cry!

This mornings carer, not ringing the bell, an oversight?
No, she never does; I didn’t hear her, her voice is light,
Crept up behind me, didn’t half give me a flipping fright!
Did she say good morning? Well, she well might…
But I didn’t hear her in the dark light.

“Sit down!” she suddenly boomed out,
Sticking her finger out towards the chair,
I took the medications, with trepidation about…
But I didn’t sit in the chair, to be fair…
I thought she wanted to give me a clout!
I chatted about it being so dark,
She was not ready for chin-waggings remarks,
Yet departed, happy as a lark?

Depression began to activate…
I found it hard to concentrate,
The Porcelain Throne was again much used,
Messy, tacky, splashes and floused…
The Throne today is much overused!
At last, it was done and cleaned. I did vacate…
Leaving the hot tap running, I did not appreciate!
No chance of a shave and shower now, mate!
I was disoriented, irritable, not focused,
In a massive fed-upperdness, I was circumfused,
I need to get myself refocused
Sod-it! Back to the Porcelain Throne, I had to navigate!

This below is the wet room, which contains the much overused Porcelain Throne. Today, I discovered that it includes 242 wall tiles, 54 cracks in the floor, and 78 on the ceiling. Which also has 14 lumps and a damp patch. The cross wording did not go well; two clues were solved in a total time on the book of three hours.

The most used room of the day!

Part of the Inchcock’s Make ‘Em Laugh Series

Inchcock Today: Maintaining One’s Sanity in Ode – Part Two

Sanity is something that does not come readily…
Insanity, now that comes easily to me, for free!
It wasn’t a good start to life for newborn Inchy,
The poor little mite had a nasty squinzey…
Handed Inchy over to her, by the midwife, Elsie,
Inchcock, her newborn less than 3lb baby…

A Verse from Inchcock’s Alto Ego

His Ma said: I Don’t want it, throw it in the Trent!
When he heard of this, years later, t’was a rent!
No wonder the lad grew up, a smidge belligerent!
And always felt unwanted, unloved, different…
Had he known the misery coming in a torrent…
He’d have settled for drowning in the river current!

Back To The Real Inchcock’s Odeing

My lack of schooling stunted my working activity,
Thus starting my wander into psychoactivity?
I was determined to actively maintain my morality,
Improving myself, was the task of great enormity,
Things went wrong, and life ended up a bit shitty!

I proudly continued to work hard, showing my stupidity,
Made redundant four times, and then the insanity…
Duodenal Ulcer, Reflux Roger, Heart attack, hit me,
Peripheral Neuropathy, Saccades, deafness you see,
Then the stroke – medical problems constantly…
The fungal lesion, piles, problem in the lower-region vicinity,
But, did it bother me? Nae, nor even the poverty,
Press on blindly, bumbling, fumbling along, is the key!

I had to show faith, belief and positivity!
The body was getting a bashing, feeling rickety!
The memory, well, short-term, almost hilarity,
Is there any help? A bonkersness charity?

Control, concentration, became a travesty!
Sometimes I can control my passivity…
But worryingly, is my current oversensitivity,
During the day, I can feel quite jaunty…
Then sink, thinking self-pity,
But without any clarity?
The mind working somehow in duality?

Of wants, needs and desires, there’s a deficiency,
Simple tasks grow in perplexity…
Depressions show ever more confusion, density,
I fail to attain the slightest moments of tranquillity,
Thought Storm rage, wee-wees show violent fluidity,

For Porcelain Throne sessions, I’ve grown an affinity!
I know; this is something of an abnormality…
I suppose, all a part of my growing mental-duality!
Depression, anxiety, am I becoming a dilettante?

I intended today, to try and stop being so whiney,
She just kicked off again; Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley,
I just rubbed in a dollop of Phorpain gel – gently!

There is something I await, pretty eagerly…
Summat I have to do bi-quarterly…
Even though I’m now quite elderly…
Inject Enoxaprin into my tummy.

Well, that was nice, two injections into one dummy,
I suspect you’re finding this ode a little crumby?
That I throw in the odd bit of codology?
Enough of this danged cybertechnology!

Whoopsiedangleplop!

Oh, I forgot about going to the clinic, neurology,
Is there a department called Forgettology?
Where they can mend a wayward memory?
A shame I’ve got this mental and physical instability!

I suspect you’re finding this ode a little crumby?
That I throw in the odd bit of codology?
Enough of this danged cybertechnology!
I’m off to get my bus pass, after making a mug of tea!

The Nottingham Lads True Tales of Woe Ode

Inchcocks Ode In Memory Of Grizelda ♥

Sunday 7th November 2021

My thought drifted to back, Grizelda, so jovial,
She was tall, hairy, and rampantly ever-sexual…
Her visit to England was most beneficial,
To me, although at times it was ethereal…
I even thought of things matrimonial,
Her sex appeal oozed from her, unanalysable,
She was forceful, but not unsurmountable,
Many would call Grizelda gladiatorial…
I’d call her, thank heavens, indefatigable!

Part Of The Nottingham Lads Make Them Laugh Ode Series

Saturday 6th November – In Ode

Bestirred!

Woke up, cramps in my toes were dying down; I checked on my feet,
Other than the tootsies, the feet and legs looked alright,
In fact, almost a pretty sight!
Send the photo to the Tate? I might!

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Mystery Music?

Moving my obese wobbly body, I heard a weird distant noise,
Mumbling, semi-musical, it could have been rumbustious schoolboys,
Seemed it might be coming from the end car park, which annoyed me.
I opened the balcony to see if I could spot the hobbledehoy,
Binoculars, camera, long-distance spectacles, but I had no joy…

A mystery to me, nothing untoward could I see… Oy-oy?
The music started; Thud thud thud, noisy? Oh, boy!
It suddenly stopped, what sounded like someone on a tannoy…
Rang out, then silence fell – wonder if it the local Choirboys?

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Fodder Preperationing

Perhaps the finest, best, tastiest Relish!
Although to deceased tastebuds, it’s a bitch!
To get your tonsils tingling and atwitch…
This is the sonovabitch!

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I’m thinking of getting a new, more robust padlock! Hehe!

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Good enough for little me,
Although they make me pee,
The cupboard door just swung free,
And I clouted missen on the knee!
Accifauxpas started early – Hehe!

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Which means…

More hand washing for me to do,
But I’m not getting into a stew,
I’ll get the clothes looking brand new,
And then I’ll make a Glengettie brew!

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Ah, kettles on, I’ll photo the view.

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.

I know what I’ll do now, the Blood Pressure test,
My first effort was not exactly my best…
I’ll do it again, at my own behest…
Oh no, excellent readings – I thumped my chest!
Yahoo! This reading is one of my best!.

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Late On Sky

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There followed, I’m not kidding, ten hours of slogging on the internet. Amazon, two more parcels are expected today. The tracker said for both of them; Today by 15:00hrs…, next check Today by 17:00hrs. Now it’s showing today by 21:00hrs! Being a Saturday, it is my day to select copy and file words to use on the Odes.

I was doing so well…

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WHOOPSIEDANGLEPLOP S

I decided to get the ablutions done and give me a break from the brain-work. Ablutions to do. It seemed such a good, logical idea at… at the time!

Oh, no! I got as far as the sink to get the nasal cleaning things out… I stepped backwards, intending to close the door, and lost my balance as I turned. It’s not that I tumbled back and came into contact with the doorframe then floor. That is the highlight of this incident…

It’s that, apart from setting Harolds Haemorrhoids bleeding and a smidge of pain – It how I bounced off of the door frame, I had no control with my going backwards; The miracle is that I hit the edge and slid down almost in slow motion! This slowed me down en route. Thus no serious bother whatsoever was caused! No elbow, arm or shoulder, or head-banging!!!Even Back-Pain-Brenda didn’t kick-off!

I know it must sound daft, but I felt over the moon with my luck!

But to be on the safe side, I abandoned the ablution session anyway.

I’ll do it later on when the Amazon has been… if it isn’t too late.

Otherwise, I’ll just stay dirty. Hahaha!

I Stayed Dirty!

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The Carer, whose name just escapes me at the moment, rang the door chime and entered. (I know, me forgetting something, it’s hard to believe. Hehe!) She did spot me dropping a tablet as I took them, a Codeine as it turned out, Tsk! I wondered what she was doing when she bent down in front of me… Hahaha! No bags were taken to the chute. So I took them with some more I made up. And considering my Accifauxpa earlier, I nipped along like a good un! Amazing!

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Getting Late Now

Sugar! I’ve missed the firework display again!
So, no photographs! Life is a strain,
The reason for this miserable failure, I put down to my hearing aids batteries both dying a death at the same time again,
It left me with mental pain and a damaged brain…
Not really!

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Ode To Sleep

Getting to sleep in the old days of the chimney sweep,
Meant using the services of the Nags Head, barkeep,
Which got me into fisticuffs and many a losing threap!
Get home, and the stairs seemed just too steep…
So I’d collapse noisily into a stupor and unsightly heap!

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Part Of The Nottingham Lads True Tales Of Woe In Ode – Series

Inchcock’s Visit to Doctor Frazakerly

My Most Memorable Visit To The GP, Ever!

My regular GP was 82-year-old Doctor Foley,
Who I rarely needed to call and see,
I went this time with blood in my pee,
I arrived and logged in with Nurse Emily…
Who said there a locum today, Doctor Frazakerly,
I waited my turn, reading a magazine called Jamboree,
The semi-naked girls in it surprised but sated me.

Emily called out, “Next patient, the Doctor is free!”
I entered the surgery of Dr Foley,
Doctor with pipe tobacco on his chest greeted me,
Told him my problem, “Lay on there, we’ll have a see…”
“Blimey,” he said, You’ve got a little one just like me!”
Hmm? Methought, this could get somewhat tacky?

He took a long time examining Little Inchie,
Should I make a dash now to get free?
I liked his gossip, though, familiar words, not snotty,
He swore a bit and declared his love of Notts Country,
So we spoke a while and assessed recent results in football?

Got me off the bench, telling me he used to live in Dundee,
Got me to strip to the waste… “Does he fancy me?”
The stethoscope was utilised, breath in, out for me…
Blood pressure taken told me to provide some wee…
My wee-weeing, he said he needed to see…
Came with me the WC…
The flow was bloodless and trouble-free.

He examined things again, we returned to the surgery,
Checked out my piles and then the boil on my knee,
He was pleasantly taking his time unctuously,
Check the lungs, tapping and chatting away cheerfully,
He cleaned his pipe, refilled it and said with some glee…
“You’re a delivery driver?” Showing his dedication and coactivity…
He wanted to do a grope test, for Hernias? I did agree…

He took his time while mentioning the new Notts County goalie,
Told me the East stand price is going up to 1/3d (5½p)
Eyed in my earholes, checked sight on the card, Blimey!
Thorough? I’ve been in here for about an hour and forty,
That’ll make me popular; I may get a thump, certainly vulgarity…
From the other patients, they’ll be going looney!
Getting dressed when all done, he even helped me!
Thanked him and left; I didn’t wait around… I did flee…
Missing trouble with the patients, homeward in haste I was bound!

I rushed straight back to the house, and my fiancee,
Got halfway there… I’d left the bike outside Dr Foley…
I wailed like a banshee!
Annoyed at my stupidity!

Part Of The Inchcock True Life Make Them Laugh Series

Inchcock’s Analysis of the Accifauxpas and Whoopsies 4th day on the trot!

In Regrettably Execrable, Atrocious Rhyme

Wednesday: Accifauxpas & Whoopsiedangleplopitis were with me again this morning, but I wasn’t surprised after three or four days of this.

But I had some natters, very pleased with this!

Even had some brighter periods; these were bliss!

AMAZON COCK-UPS

Well, no, they haven’t been delivered. Semi-panic!
Another Amazon cock-up, like the Titanic!
I rang Warden Julie, her reaction was fantastic,
She checked Winchester Court, not there,
Rang me back, how altruistic!

AMAZON ACCIFAUXPA TWO & THREE

Most confusing. Is this a trick?

AMAZON ACCIFAUXPA AGAIN

Ungle-Clomp: thought about it… thud!

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

Peripheral Neuropathy Pete was calm with me, as I took this photo,
Came out good for me, I celebrated with a Lemoncello,
Seeing the result, I felt a bit less of a Bozzo,
I gave myself a virtual pat on the back… Bravo!

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Encouraged, I took the view of the end car park.

ACCIFAUXPAS!

Took the picture, closed the window, then things got blurrier…
I noticed two tellurians, fell backwards, Clunk! Landed with a whimper,
But no damage and I didn’t lose my temper…
Just the back pulled, so no need to get schmaltzier!
Managed to get back up on my own, now I felt smugger!
The victim being poor old Back-Pain-Brenda…
A Codeine 30g, a mug of tea, and I soon felt a little betterer!

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

WHOOPSIEDANGLEPLOP

The blood pressure was not good to be blunt,
But I was not overwrought,
Things would have been worserer…
If it had read nought! Hehe!

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

INSTANT FATIGUE!

With the recent days’ hassle and bother, it’s been a game,
Wearying, tiring, frustrating, but I do not raim,
But no more could be done, I’m at end of my candleflame,
Rest, peaceful sleep… yes, sleep, that’s now my aim!
I’ll have a nod for an hour or so, then energy I can reclaim…

WHOOPSIEDANGLEPLOP!

With the recent day’s hassle and bother, it’s been a game,
Wearying, tiring, frustrating, but I do not raim,
But no more could be done, I’m on the end of my candle flame,
Rest, peaceful sleep… yes, sleep, that’s now my aim!
I’ll have a nod for an hour or so, will my aim be lame?

Got some nosh made, and me oh my,
Gorgeous tasting it was too… now for some shuteye!

NO PROBLEM SLEEPING THIS TIME!
I whoofed it down like Bruno from Popeye!
Cleaned the plate with bread, wiped it dry!
Put the TV on, though now I wonder why,
Within minutes it was wakefulness, good-bye!.

4 HOURS LATER, A CONCERNED CARER WOKE ME UP

ACCIFAUXPAS!

I realised it must be the night when the gal gave the medication,
Warfarin included a night only application…
I felt a touch of creeping self-derision…
At the dementia-made confusion and elision,
The Thought Storm started; is reality really an illusion?
The gal gave me a little chinwag, that helped my self-derision,
Making the Thoughts Storms absquatulation.

She didn’t take the waste bags on her way out,
Not nowt to worry about…
Cause I gave the toe a stubbing, that did make me shout!
That, I could have done well without!

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

SURPRISE!

The Dettol arrived, that Amazon said I’d already had,
Which was something that didn’t make me sad,
What does, happened at Concentration camps & Stalingrad,
Many things make me mad, but they are too myriad!.

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

The photo that I took earlier,

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

WAS I RIGHT?

I made this graphic and posted it, before the Brexit Fiasco,
Before the masses voted for us to leave the Euro,
Sure enough, that’s just what we did, so long ago…
Some were full of joy, expecting things to improve, full of gusto,
Just look at us now, though…,

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

WHOOPSIEDANGLEPLOP

A belated Accifauxpa!

Well, more selection of Whoopsies really,

Milk from the fridge, I knocked over the banoffee,
It fell onto the floor and broke, after hitting my knee!
Got down to clean it up, could I get back up?
I’m used to this, and did it all unemotionally,
Well, apart from the usual trepidity…
Getting back on my feet was painful, a pity,
Cause I stubbed my toe as well, that was shitty!
Then dropped the bloody milk bottle, what a whoopsie!
Cleaned up the mess again, expecting a satanophany!
Instead, I banged my elbow on the drawer, and writ this ditty!

Self-Angering Whoopsiedangleplop! In Ode

Puggleclumpdimwit!

Even for me, I made a Whoopsiedangleplop an hour ago that turned my stomach – Started Anne Gyna and Duodenal Donald off – and made me so angry with myself…

Inchcock is a Grangnanging Stupid Old Git!

No idea how I did it – but I lost Wednesday’s Ode I’d been working on for about four and a half hours! Nine verses! And, I thought, it was pretty decent… The hour-and-a-half above, I’ve been trying to find it or find out what the hell I’ve done to lose it… Got the Doctor’s in the morning, so have no choice other than to make it again.
I apologise in advance cause the frame of mind I’m in right now is not conducive to Funny Ode creating!
This means staying up late to get the Ode done… I’m not expecting it to have the usual humour or be any good, the mood I’m in, but I’ll try…

Inchcock is a Pathetic, Useless Pillock!

I told the Social Services lady how much I had in the bank,
Of course, they’ve raised the total allowed, but I was frank,
She offered me an hours help with shopping and laundry,
It’d cost me £280 a week… Holy Lordy!
I said no, I was referred to the Revenue & Benefits, thanks!
She asked if I had money in any other banks…

Inchcock is a Pickleglobknob Idiot!

Nottingham Revenue & Benefits man rang me on the phone,
A 2½hr interview followed I was in the ether-world zone,
My concentration dissipated, off it had flown,
I thanked him with a weary groan…

Inchcock is a Dolt!

He said he’d sent the paperwork to sign & return,
Of course, no help was given, I soon did learn…
Result in today, on a downer now, scowled and had a gurn!
Excuse me, to the Porcelain Throne, I’ll have to adjourn…

Inchcock is a Gnatwrangling Turd!

Unhappy at the elision of the actual cost, though,
Still a secret? Why do they not let me know?
They told me how to pay, and punishment if not…
Added fines if you miss a payment that cheered me a lot!

Schluberdubersnarl, Inchcock!

The limit for money, I thought I might be below, but no,
The figure has gone up; this is not good, you know!
The decision didn’t leave a warm afterglow…
I nearly cried; that could have ruined my eyeshadow,
Blimey, I made a funny! And not getting any Sympatico!

Inchcock is a Senile Old Git!

Ah, I’ll be making beef stew for later; my hunger does grow…
Hello, it’s already late, mate… Carer due, Doctors tomorrow,
I’m still angry with myself; there is a self-pitying sorrow,
Life at the moment is annoying, no zest… hollow!
It’s me that is annoying me… that what I’ll have to forego…
The hidden costs of the carers do rise… Oh, blow!

Inchcock is a Senile Old Git!

An ‘orrible Day Again!