I was sitting, doing the blog, Inchcock Today, Got it nearly done, sorting out the scintillae… When, crunch… much to my utter dismay… The right patella plopped out of its socket! Well, it shot out like a rocket! Did it hurt, was I worried… Oh, nay! Just don’t believe all I say, Hahaha!
After the shock, I tried to get it back in…
Too tender to do any banging…
After much-failed faffing…
I thought this needed help and medicating,
I had a bash at knee cap relocating,
To ease things and stop it stinging,
I could hobble, but Gawd, it was stinging!
The lady on 111 was very obliging, Go to the hospital, she was saying… So I did, bravely… I’m not bragging… Finished the blog and was not cringing! Set of to the QMC, without whinging.
By the time I got down to the ground floor, Bearing in mind, I’m a bit of a procrastinator, Should I be busing it there? Is this an error? A taxi will be costly but will save some furore… I’ll phone for one, but again a failure! I’d left the mobile behind; what an adventure!
I shuffled painfully back into the elevator, Up to the apartment, entered, and for sure… Knocked my knee on the door furniture! The pain turned to agony at the conjuncture… I had a close look at the knee. Is it a fracture?
But luck, as you may know, is a fickle creature… With swelling down to the fibula and tibia, Gobsmackingly within minutes, the discomfiture… The pain was showing signs of divestiture! But the agony was still nowhere near miniature!
Now, amazingly, I was going far less squirming… The knee cap to the socket I saw returning! Which I thought was very easing and welcoming, I hobbled far easier, for some more wee-weeing!
Of course, the thought ‘would it pop-out again?’… I wasn’t too bothered if the bad luck came back again, It’s bound to, assuredly, guaranteed, for certain… But this knee-cap returning I can’t explain?
Good Luck? A stranger to my scatterbrain, But I like getting it and hope to again… Ayup! I walked into the doorframe… Now I’ve got a new bruise and back pain! That’s better, much more like my scene! Was this whole escapade transpadane?
Inchcock is still not capable of kneeling or genuflection, He’s not a technician… more a poor theoretician! Inchcock leans towards visualisation rather than realisation… He’s used to existence with trepidation and tribulations, Throwing his poor hearing and sight into the equation… The fool accepts all his failures, hassles and aggravations! Yet throughout, the old fool has shown great determination… Patiently waiting for some good lucks germination…
Well, he got some yesterday… His knee returned to the socket, of its own orchestration, And what does Inchcock have to say? “It burst out like a fulmination…” “I failed to get it back in by manipulation!” “Going to the hospital, realised I left my communication…” “Back to flat for the phone, due to my vacillation…” “Clouted me knee, which caused me much confusing elision…” “So, Vascular Dementia Doreen proved to be my salvation…” “I’d have missed this miracle cure without memory erasion.”
Hence: Ailments mental and physical can cause depression…
Hypertension, apprehension, confusion, even tintinnabulation!
Procrastination; and indeed, physical and mental putrefaction
Infection, infestation, digression, marginalisation…
Occasionally like yesterday, it can cause jubilation!
Well, that’s my impression!
Time for some self-inebriation?
Part of the Inchies True Make Them Laugh Ode Series
I’m getting most frustrated. The picture uploaded is not being recognised, so getting taken photos in is difficult. This morning on starting the computer, it worked, once only – and went back into hide-mode! So, again I’ve got photographs that I cannot use.
At least it did allow me to get some in from yesterday; before it died a death. But it will not recognise them from today. Screen windows keep changing size. CorelDraw going off of its own accord…
Here are the ablution ones rescued from Sunday.
I took another photo this morning, but I can’t get it onto the computer – Humph! The left ankle appears to be erupting with an ankle ulcer building in prospect, as the right ankle ulcer seemed to be fading at last? The concentrated marks have all but gone, but blood’s fuzzy dark blue vein spots have increased? Possibly something to do with the DVT (Deep Vein Thrombosis?), but I don’t really know… I do a lot of that… not knowing!
Feet before getting in the shower.
After drying off from the shower
Using Glenda, prompted Back-Pain-Brenda, Bleeding Blair, Arthur Itis, and then Toe-Stubbing Thomas to kick-off! Anne Gyna joined in later, as did Shaking Shaun.
I had to use the dreaded Sock-Glide-Glenda
Yes, I had to use the dreaded Sock-Glide-Glenda, Getting the socks on was a right painful bugger… I was bruised, bleeding and felt like I’d been on a bender! Both feet and legs felt like they’d been in a blender!
I wouldn’t call my Sock-Gliding operation artistic…
At times things went somewhat troublingly ballistic,
Sometimes it was unintentionally aerobatic…
Occasionally convincing me I’m becoming autistic,
On one occasion, the bleeding was near fatalistic,
However, through the agony, I resisted getting too frantic!
Since becoming a resistant, nervous Sock-Glide operator,
Using it scares me, my nerves are shattered – well, poor,
I always end up bruised, bleeding, and feeling sore!
Split fingernails, trapped fingers, stubbed toes, bruises and more…
Before tackling it, I force myself into being perfervour…
Why? I don’t know, well I think I might, but I’m not sure!
Can I get any help with this? Mayhaps psychiatric?
Medicationalistical? Uppers, or something anabolic?
Bearing in mind, I’m uneducated, almost analphabetic…
Especially difficult, I’m sure that I suffer dyscalculic,
Which is nothing to do with Sock-Glide-Glenda…
It seems I have, as happens ad infinitum, lost track…
This occurs sometimes, but I might get it back?
At last, I got the bamboo diabetic socks on. Haha!
But I have to wear the socks again on Tuesday…
Tomorrow… to go to the bank, Oh, criminy!
It may send me over the top – Potty!
But these fears I must delay…
I wish they’d invent socks you can put on with a spray!
But help is coming, in the beautiful form of Jillie ♥,
The very thought of seeing her sends me giddy,
Big problems sink when I see her, to scintillae…
The opticians in the morning that’ll be jolly…
And cost a lot off lolly – needles in the eyes, Ho-ho!
Glaucoma and cataracts mean the iris’s are too narrow…
After that, they can see the degree of the problem, I hope so…
Then decide on treatment; it’s got to be done, though!
This morning, I’d like to start with the worst of YourArea news items. To get it out of my system; So maddening!
Double child killer Colin Pitchfork could be cleared for a move to open prison within months after being returned to jail because he was approaching young women.
Murderer Colin Pitchfork, 61, was arrested and recalled to prison.
The convicted killer had allegedly been ‘approaching young women’ while on walks.
But Parole Board is now considering moving him to an open prison setting
Pitchfork was jailed for life in 1988 for the rape and murder of 15-year-old girls
He was released from Leyhill prison, near Tortworth, Gloucester., two months ago
What sort of demented, do-gooder idiots sit on Parole Boards? How often have we heard of released scum killing and committing the same crimes again? How can the panels be fooled so often into releasing people to kill again?
What is the solution? Is there one? Well, yes! But it would probably not be considered practical. The Civil Rightists would think my idea too reactive for the libertarians, namby-pambies, egalitarians and guilty themselves of the crimes that people they have freed, committed, members of the Parole Boards!
Above all, they would consider the costs of keeping criminal sleazebags long term in prison. No doubt encouraged to be lenient, or even bribed; threatened or maybe, instructed, by the Government of days Justice Minister and Home Secretary?
Justice Department Wasted Money
Dominic Raab’s department wasted a ‘staggering’ £238m on an array of botched projects last year; Electronic tagging systems that were never used and software so bad it is causing industrial disputes are among sources of waste at the Ministry of Justice! The biggest-ticket item driving up the level of waste was £98.2m on a new case management system for electronic tagging of criminals – which was then scrapped before it could be used.
The department also had to pay an extra £72.1m HMRC because it had incorrectly reported the employment status of some of its workers, being hit with a further £15m penalty for breaching the rules. Then, £14m was paid to private contractors running probation services for the department breaking their contracts early, even though those companies had failed to hit their targets to reduce re-offending! This part of the cash was returned to the Treasury.
So, a Governmental decision was made to free prisoners early on parole. Boy, have they got guilt on their hands now! Fungleturds! The accountableness for their complicity with the powers that be, to me, means they should be punished themselves.
Are these living-in-another-world enfants-terribles even aware of their blame, but the effects that their moronic namby-pamby, spineless, effete decisions have had on the innocents involved? The parents and relations of these two daughters, the other family members, schoolmates, friends. It’s ruined their lives too! Two wrongs don’t make a right, but it would have levelled the field if the animal Pitchfork had been executed.
So, how can we save money in and on prisons? We stop supplying Gym equipment, computers, telephones etc. then, stop giving them free medications. Mental and physical. Cut back to the type of food that I manage on, no luxuries. Baths or shower only once every six months. When they escape, it should be easier for the dogs to trace them. I am not proposing this for all prisoners, of course. Only the violent ones. And if possible, which it won’t be, bring back executions. But offer them a choice first, of which way they would prefer to go. Hanging will be out, though; that is cruel. Beheading, poisoning or being tied up securely and left in a cellar for three days with relatives and family of the murdered victims. I feel this would be more of a deterrent than the current system. Oh, and no visitors!
I got a bit carried away there! Ah, well, I’ll press on!
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Another murder in Nottingham. Stabbings, druggies, shoplifting, gangs galore. I don’t think I can take anymore!
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It sounds like another lost cause for the police.
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Firearms, drugs, organised slave trade, burglaries… I think we had a poisoning last week?.
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That’s the spirit, Your Honour; Nip this violence in the bud while they’re young. Scare them to death with your nerve-wracking punishments… Oh, tagging him? Fine!
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A little too close for comfort?.
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Blimey, £9.35 per prescription. Hand on, I’ll utilise the calculator to find out how much it might cost me… Strewth! Blimey and heckithump; £149.60 a month!
I woke around 04:20hrs: With some memories of the dream still prattling about in the brain. I lunged to get the notepad and pencil from the Ottoman; and realised they were lying between my legs, and well scribbled on, too! (Somnambulistic activity?) So I added the new bits to it and left the pages to be used later in my reminiscing of the ultra-weird dream.
Off into the kitchen, no taps, stove or lights had been left on. More amazingly, Shaking Shaun was not affecting the legs again! That’s been around eighteen hours of relief, now!
I took a photo of the clear dark morning sky. And decided not to make a brew of Glengettie, 99, or even the usual refreshing Thompsons Punjana tea; this bothered me!
Something was out of sync here this morning… most likely me! Summat up here! No shaking legs, no toothache, no desire for a mug of tea, not wanting a wee-wee…
However, I maintained my earlier om waking, almost gung-ho, hey-ho outlook, and just pressed on with updating the Facebook, catching up a bit with it anyway. I was humming the door chimes’ tune to myself, not in need of a cuppa, and as I thought I was also not in need of a wee-wee… the flow started. And continued approximately every fifteen minutes and was only taking the occasional swift swig of the spring water?
As I indicated earlier, things seem discrepant, incompatible, and incongruous today. Yet I am not put out by this… at the moment.
Working on Facebook, I came across last nights photograph of my meal. This brought back to me how tasty it was for once. Fresh garden raw peas from Nicaragua, tomatoes from Holland, sausages from Poland, chips from England, and part-baked oven cobs from Ireland. American BBQ sauce. An international feast! That I gave a Taste-Rating of 8.2/10!
I went on the WordPress reader, had a wee-wee, answered some comments, took a pee, readied this blog, had a slash, and the door chime chimed out its ♫Oh, Susana…♫ tune. It was the morning Carer came to sort out my medications. No messing with this gal, all done nada off in eight minutes, kindly taking the waste bags to the chute for me as she departed.
Minutes later, the ♫Oh, Susana…♫ tune chirped up again. This was the Sainsbury’s order arriving. Boy, had I ordered a lot or what? I’d got some cheapo eggs in. Ten for £1.10.
After taking in the items, I managed to get the chuckles into the fridge; first, there was only enough room, and I had to do a bit of jiggling around to get them into the fridge door.
They were mixed in sizes from diddly to small. Hehe! Not that it mattered to me. They were all a lovely deep brown colour.
I knew there was not much room in the freezer, so I only ordered some McCain flavour maker fries. Although I somehow managed to buy three packets of them… £9 spent there!
The first load of fresh stuff into the fridge were, Fresh peas and a milk roll loaf. Humph! Another cock up made, I’d obviously ordered three bags of potatoes, all of a different type.
Ready meal foods next. Five of the prepared meals; four Sausage in onion grainy and sweet potato mash, and one chilli and chips, all watchers, WW! Three packets of cooked bacon. (Guilty!)
Then the costly, naughty, wicked, and guilt-ridden things were put away. Oh, dearie me, yes! Three Lemon Cheesecakes. Mandarin pieces in orange jelly and two fresh cream eclairs… no, that should be doughnuts. Ahem! A substituted for lemon yoghourts. Lemon & Lime Possets. (Ahem!) I’ve never heard of these before, but on reading the ingredients: Double cream, whipping cream, lemon juice, lime juice, sugar, lemon zest, thickener, agar and cornflour – I realised how bad it was, and decided not to eat it, naturally.
I took the rubbish bags accrued by storing the fodder away to the rubbish chute room. Then it happened… The shaking and wobbling started again en route with the bags. Luckily I’d taken the stick with me; thus, I avoided having an Accifauxpa and tumble!
I can’t say the same thing for inside the chute room. Tsk! Nowt too lousy mind, just a trapped finger and back-Pain Brenda kicked off after I knocked the stick over and bent down to retrieve it. I’ve had a lot worse.
I got back in the flat and decided that if things were getting back to normal with the ailments, I’d take an extra painkiller now, have another wee-wee, and get the kitchen floor cleaned while I was still capable. So, I did!
BPB was not too happy with me, but she could have been a lot worse. Arthur Itis was almost nonexistent as I treadmilled mop bucket spinner. I did manage a toe-stubbing in the process, but only a mild effort, so I pressed on with the job, even humming a tune to myself?
Until I emptied the bucket down the lavatory; I gave myself a really good toe-stubbing then! It made me wince a little, and I just may have used a naughty word or two… perhaps, maybe.
That was bad enough, but then I dropped the bucket and got covered in the sweet smell of lemon disinfectanted but dirty water! I hit my knee with the mop stay and generally sank down from my previously almost cheerful state to a genuinely pissed-off with myself semi-depressed!
I was even angry with myself! I may well have growled and questioned my parentage! I’d gone from being practically flippant and almost uncaring, not concerned, to a deep depression instantly! My world had been turned on its head. I knew it had to happen! Back to the lucky bugger I am, that things being almost semi-content, just couldn’t last, and I knew it. Thinking this actually helped me to perk back up a smidgeon.
Go me and the place cleaned up, had a wee-wee, and got on the computer to start this blog. After five minutes, I was back at the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee-Bucket) with a lot of PMAD (Post-Micturition-After Dribbling). That needed shaking and wiping – and…
The door chime chimed again; I had to pack things away swiftly, as I saw a shadow had let itself in along the corridor, and I did not want to make whoever it was to laugh by displaying Little Inchy.
Esther, the cleaning lady, came in. Unfortunately, in my rush and haste to get Little Inchy undercover, his Fungal Lesion started bleeding! I couldn’t just leave her and get it medicated, but I don’t think she noticed anything she shouldn’t have. So, I had to grin and bear it.
The gal got straight on with gathering and taking the laundry for me. Esther returned after I’d cleaned and medicated Little Inchies problem. Now I had a little more pain to put up with!
But I coped well enough, back to the usual style of semi-coping and mild agony. Haha!
When Esther returned, I got the new ironing board unwrapped, and the gal got using it quickly. I was amazed at how fast she was doing the ironing for the first time on the new board.
She hung up the clothes in the hallway for me; bless her! After that, I got the chair covers back on and started to feel more my usual self.
Laundry down for me; bless her. A lot of what she said, a little too fast for me, and when I asked her what she said, the volume was too high, and her speed was the same. I hope I’ve not missed anything that was important? I thanked her, and she shot off. She’s a kind thing. ♥
So, I decided to get a mug of tea at last; as I stood up, shoeless, I trod on something hard, sharp and tiny. Can you believe it… I can, Hehehe! It was yet another escaped, dried like granite garden pea! How the heck do I not see or find them earlier? I’ve hoovered the carpet near the computer several times last and once this, and still, it gets missed! It must have been fled weeks ago, to be that hard? Ah, well!
It’s getting dark earlier than ever today. Took a snap of the end car park.
Then back to working on this blog. In between going for a leak, of course. Then fatigue dawned on me, so I stopped to get some nosh sorted.
As I was prepping the fodder, surprisingly, suddenly everything seemed to light up. The sun was having one last attempt at coming through, and I got the camera to snap it. Not a good effort, but still.
Sausages with a drop of onion gravy, carrot and leek potatoes, coiled potatoes finished off in the oven, fresh Nicaraguan garden peas, and a Lemon & Lime posset pot. Not as good as last night’s, but a score of 7/10 for flavour was given.
Washed the pots and back to the chair to eat the posset… Zzzz! Off into a deep sleep, I trundled and had the dream, as I had mentioned earlier…
I was in a shopping centre or big market. As I went along, it dawned on me that the three-wheel walker was behind me, and I was pushing a shopping cart ahead; I turned to look for a supermarket where I assumed I had taken the shopping trolley; from… Then noticed that the three-wheeler was following behind, under its own steam? Then as we came to an escalator, I hesitated, and other shoppers were getting annoyed, asking me what the problem was.
I said I can’t get on the escalator with two trolleys… and I got the oddest of looks, and people laughed at me. One woman asked if I’d escaped from somewhere?
“What’s its name?”
“The trolley you pillock!” “Tsk! are you poorly or what?”
“I call it my walker?” With which she snapped her fingers and commanded, “Walker… Fly! I thought, even in the dream, something’s not right here? But the three-wheeler raised up like a Darlek in Dr Who and flew gently down to the bottom of the escalator!!! Wait for me at the bottom!”
When I followed the others down, I realised that there were no moving steps, just a controlled cushion of air, that we were using?
And I could see down on the floor below, trolleys of all sorts waiting for their owners and running to their side when they got down. And mine did the same? seeing other folks sending the trolleys to get things from the shops, I tried it… “Walker, Boots, get a large tube of Germolene!” And of he waddled off to the Boots store…
A ganglet of young ladies surrounded me, asking for my signature, and would I sing them a song? Like pricking a bubble, instantly they were all gone?
I sat on a bench, trying to make sense of all this…
I was woken up by Carer Lisa. I didn’t mention the dream.
Lisa did the medications, and she shot off; she was busy tonight.
I’ve got arithmophobia, numbers leave my head in a haze,
No doubt, I’m an old gentleman, who is easy to faze,
Trying to understand and or appraise,
Easy, back in my earlier days,
Confusing now, my brain decays…
Facts and figures mixed, like mayonnaise!
This is clearer to me, a lot less bull,
+113.6%, well, that’s plainly plentiful!
Far too high for things to remain uneventful!
In fact, we must indeed all be very careful…
Or things can easily become more fatal!
I’m not sure why this was in the news at all?
This article is not likely to amuse or enthral?
Still, nice to see summat that’s not hard-ball,
I should welcome an item that’s not conflictual!
What is conditional bail?
Bed at a certain time?
Don’t stab anyone or impale?
Collect your dole on time?
Or eat only Wensleydale?
Don’t commit another crime?
Or is conditional bail, a dwale?
Here’s a right git who is rather unnice!
He’d drunk-driven before… Twice!
Nearly six years he got, very nice,
He was tried at Derby, didn’t apologise…
Better than the Nottingham Court guys…
They’d given him a month and free pork pies!
I can’t believe it, just two years… surely?
Our justice system is a tragi-comedy!
It defies logic and believability,
Saving money, with short sentences essentially,
Do we spend too much locking them up excessively?
Starve the gits! Forget about doing things humanely,
Or did the scumbag pretend to act demurely?
I find it hard to make a comment on this scum!
I’m sure she meant no harm at all,
By gum, she’s persistent, in for the long haul,
Though to be honest, it is only natural…
When the grandkids want drugs, avoid being conflictual,
Wanting to please young Elvis and Myrtle?
Brothers Jamil and Shakeel Amin spearheaded the group, who, in their twenties themselves, had a significant influence on young people in the city, who they were targeting since 2018. They were found to have long lists of clients, with frequent phone calls and texts relating to buying the likes of cocaine, MDMA and ketamine. Two members even bragged that they had so much money they could throw fivers ‘in the bin’, and the video of 29-year-old Shakeel Amin and 22-year-old Zain Mushtaq casting the notes aside was shown during the court case involving nine people as part of a drugs conspiracy.
I thought I’d end on a higher note, the top gang bullies got seven years each. It should have been a lot more, but with our justice magistrates and judges, it was a miracle they got seven!
Part of The Inchcock Local News Snippet Series – In Ode
Up and at it blogging,
Feeling much better, astonishing!
Went to do the Glengettie brewing,
Notice outside was suitable for viewing…
With the morning sun encroaching!
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End Car Park was in use, staggering!
End Car Park was in use, staggering!
Leaves falling down from trees overhanging,
Resistance to use this car park is flagging,
Three vehicles today; is this a new beginning?
Oh, where’s my tea… I’m gagging!
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Carer Carole Came…
And seconds later, the Sainsbury order came in,
Carole to do tablets, the ulcer machine-gunning,
Confused with so much to do at the same time…
But Carole took charge, with a drink of lime…
So I did, took the sorted tablets in no time…
She put the items of food in the kitchen, all in…
Shot off, she was in a rush, but she still cleared the waste bin!
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Suddenly alone again and sulking…
I got the food away, rushing…
Six items short delivered… it’s a sin!
Needed food, I was again burping…
Got a banana and to take off the skin…
Guess what crawled out of it?
A beetle, it was gigantic!
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Guess Who Ordered Wrong Milk, then?
My Accifauxpas in ordering online food…
Continues, with such unimpeachability!
I’d ordered the extra-cream full milk, dude!
One can’t beat vascular dementia, well, not me!
I assure you I ordered it accidentally!
I was not too bothered, well, not overly…
Cause the Grahams full cream milk tastes lovely!
The guilt is now fading… Lip smackingly!
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Back onto the computer again,
The urge for a biscuit or two came…
As I stood up, Dizzy Dennis attacked the brain…
I ended up on the floor yet again…
My language, I admit, was a little profane…
Then I had to struggle back upright again,
T’would have been comical, if not for the pain!
I knocked off the coat… But that is nongermane,
Stuff fell out of the pockets again!…
Getting down and back up to retrieve things was a strain, I carried on fed-up, biscuitless, now with terrible back pain! I went for a wee-wee and found a bloodstain! In agony now… should I try cocaine?
Part of the Inchcock Make Them Laugh, In Ode Series
With Inchies comments in Ode. Crap Ode, fair enough!
Here we go…
Inchy: I wrote upon this news, a comment what I thought,
Needed saying, about my views on this report,
About dangerous bike riders and Escooterists,
If I was young enough, I’d give them some fist!
Not that I’m a spoilsport…
Pavements are not there for their sport…
They should use the road, was my retort!
This will be perfect planning for those who snort,
Muggers, pickpockets shoplifters, should go to court!
But they rarely, some never get caught…
That’s the end of this verbal jaunt!
Not looking good, these figures, are they tommyrot?
I don’t know, but I do think not…
The anti-maskers, I disagree with this lot…
Being careful is best in the longshot…
Maybe each one of them is a barnpot?
They show aggression, wanting to form a protest riot?
Hah… I’ll just get me dinner made, chips and a carrot!
Well, the above new, will give normality a jerk though,, Coronavirus has limited the number of people at work, Working from home is back, I see, Not that that is relative to me… At last, from that pressure, I’m free… I don’t miss it to any degree!
It’s the few who have to go to work, get my simpatico! I know words can’t really help them; they seem shallow… But in a few years, they will feel a warm glow… Yes, retirement… it may be a shock, though? There’ll be little rest; they should know… So, I give advising a little go…
Things You May Find When Retired: Of course, it depends if you’ve retired or been sacked… Made redundant, nowadays that’s more of a fact, 70% of over 60’s get heart attacks… 80% will get cataracts, Brittle limbs get broken or cracked, If you did work, did you check your pension contract? An area in which I sadly lacked… The Government wants to know your finances; use tact… People over 65 more often get hacked… HM taxation will rarely use the word subtract… It’ll help to see the Doctor, to get Prozacked… Dementia, memory loss will ensure you get sidetracked… HM Inspector of taxes checks, you are honest, in fact… Oh, 90% of passengers were killed when getting highjacked… Still, we’ll leave off that fact…
The truth is, you won’t be fit or rich enough to own a car, Thus avoiding the floods, stay home using your camera… Snap the poor devils, sell them photos later, from afar… Then get ready for Arthur Itis, ulcers, and likely, oedema!
If they did ban them all, one day, to my amazement,
There’d be so many more unlicensed drivers prevalent!
Untaxed too, so what can we do?
What other form of punishment, a thumbscrew?
Too expensive to consider imprisonment,
The problem’s likely, beyond reconcilement!
I’ll tell yers while, Mr Magistrate,
He’s got you weighed up, straight!
Send him to prison, and you capitulate,
His laundry is done, free food, he can sleep in late,
No rent to pay, free medical care, to appreciate…
From the next peter, he’ll get his barbiturate…
Have time to read, watch telly, and cogitate,
To hand, will be a different way to cohabitate?
He can buy a knocked off phone to confabulate…
Oh, yes, he’s got it worked out, mate!.
A life sentence? Huh!, Rubbish! No time for Odeing on this one… Kenneth McDuff: killed three teenagers, a life sentence, released after 11 years. Three days after his release, he killed again! David Edward Maust: While stationed in Germany, Maust killed a boy and was ultimately convicted of manslaughter. After being released, Maust stabbed a friend in his sleep, drowned a 15-year-old in a quarry, and slew three teens and attempted to bury them under his home. Steven Pratt: Two days after being released from prison for shooting and killing his next-door neighbour in 1984, Steven Pratt beat his mother to death during an argument. Arthur J. Bomar Jr: is a repeat offender who was in and out of the justice system multiple times. After being paroled from a Nevada prison in 1990, following a second-degree murder conviction, he may have been involved in three murders in Pennsylvania. Then, a few years later, he used a fake police badge to stop a female college athlete on the interstate and brutally murdered her. After he was finally caught in 1997, Bomar was charged with first-degree murder, kidnappings, aggravated assault, rape and abuse of corpses, and he was formally sentenced to death by legal injection. Hurrah! In the UK: Andrew Dawson, George Johnson, Ernest Wright, David Cook and Desmond Lee were all allowed out on licence despite getting life sentences; All killed again!
So, who is worthy of the sarcastically Inchcock invented name of a Grobble Knumphchuckle?
A ‘Grobble Knumphchuckle’ title recipient has most of Anthony Charles Lynton Blair qualities and attributes. But the chosen few have the added ‘quality, ‘skill’, ‘trait’, ‘ability to have failed in their chosen sphere of financial skullduggery, hustling, or whatever position they have conned others out of to get employment and absolutely phenomenal salaries! (I’m not jealous at all).
The hated few, selected band of natural, proper, worthy candidates that have been granted the name by both Inchcock and his Alto-Ego Inchie! We start today with the current Top Dog himself…
Mike Fries (Left)
Distraught UK Customer on the right!
Grobble Knumphchuckle? Yes!
A most deserving case. He has all the traits required. Plus, I am dead-jealous of his salary during the Coronavirus he’s paid himself, of… wait for it… $1 million a week! According to the internet, difficult to be sure if this is true as Liberty-Global Virgin Media Internet keeps going down several times a day… and ever upwards in cost!
No wonder he’s smiling! I Can’t blame him!
Chief Executive Officer of Liberty Global
Who acquired British cable group Virgin Media for $24 billion!
Virgin Media’s new owner faces a shareholder revolt for paying its boss $1 million a week during the pandemic. The American chief executive of London-based Liberty Global pocketed $52 million (£36.7 million) last year, even as the broadband and TV provider was hit with a deluge of customer complaints.
A number cruncher? Conman? Mafia-backed?
Who knows. He appears hubristic, conceited, self-assured, smug, arrogant, daredevil, self-asserting, shameless, procacious, scoffing, impervious to failure, and a moralless bloke?
Then again, if I was getting away with conning my bosses, shitting on my Nottingham customers, and an excellent number-cruncher and bean-counter as Fries: And getting away with it, paid a fortune to fail… and cunningly hiding the actual figures so cleverly, I might be the same as he is?
Which does nothing to help me get the over-priced, ever going off-line Virgin Liberty-Global Virgin Media internet to work?
You try to sign off and try another company! Huh!
Fries Virgin-O2 Deal?
O2 and Virgin Media have confirmed plans to create a new company through merging. The deal establishes a quad-play (broadband, TV, phone and mobile) company that will rival BT. The combined business will have up to 40 million commercial and residential customers and be worth over £31 billion.
However, several issues, including regulatory, will need to be worked out as the ‘deal’ progresses.
Quote From Fries
Mike Fries, Chief Executive Officer of Liberty Global, said: “We couldn’t be more excited about this combination. Virgin Media has redefined broadband and entertainment in the UK with lightning fast speeds and the most innovative video platform. And O2 is widely recognized as the most reliable and admired mobile operator in the UK, always putting the customer first.
Putting the customer first?
Oh, my mistake, I thought for a minute that Fries was claiming that was what Liberty-Global Virgin Media were doing… even he is not brave enough to make that claim… is he? He was talking about 02.
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Dear Mr Fries:
The figures and statements I’ve found on the internet, maybe pre-juggled or crunched, appear better to the investors. This searching the web and creating this blog is not accessible when Liberty-Global Virgin Media here in Nottingham, England, keeps going down several times, every day! I find it confusing.
Hehe! I am what used to be called a Silver-Surfer, although I am bald. I struggle with disabilities, stroke, heart-surgery recovery, and vascular dementia. Not that this would bother you in any way! Empathy is obviously not in your dictionary. Knowing how to run an internet service that is even close to being semi-reliable is also beyond your capabilities, but hey… we’re only customers!
Liberty-Global businesses operate under some of the best-known consumer brands, including Virgin Media-O2 in the UK, VodafoneZiggo in The Netherlands, Telenet in Belgium, Sunrise UPC in Switzerland, Virgin Media in Ireland and UPC in Eastern Europe.
Is your internet none-reliability the same everywhere, Mike? Or do you have something against the proletariat pensioners of Nottingham, on the tiny island, UK?
Our global investment arm, Liberty Global Ventures, has investments in more than 75 companies and funds in the fields of content, technology and infrastructure, including strategic stakes in companies such as Plume, ITV, Lions Gate, Univision, the Formula E racing series and several regional sports networks.
Reads impressively; At least to anyone who isn’t cursed with your destruction of Virgin Media reliability. Are there any vestiges of mock customer service and Liberty Global’s constant, Nottinghamian internet failures? Several other unhappy old silver-surfers are using Liberty-Global Virgin Media Internet (when it’s not gone down, of course) in these blocks of old folks flats that would like to know. Why am I asking you? Proof of my senility here!
Liberty Global total number of employees in 2020 was 23,000, a 13.86% increase from 2019.
Are the imitation customer services team, electronic or even the human variety occasionally gagged? Do they have scripts to read from? Have you told them never to mention Libert-Global when someone calls? That is if they can get through and the LG telephone is working. Thus, Mr Branson can be blamed for the abysmal service we are receiving?
Liberty Global is a cable company providing video, broadband internet, fixed-line telephony, mobile, and other communications services to residential customers and businesses.
I think you’ve missed a word out of the above Liberty Global statement… Should it read, Liberty Global is a cable company providing video, broadband internet, fixed-line telephony, mobile, and other communications services to UNFORTUNATE residential customers and businesses?
First, I’d like to explain that as bad as I thought my Stroke was at the time, after being taken to the Queens Medical Centre, diagnosed with having had an Embolic stroke, I thought I’d been lucky. Then I was transferred to the Newell Stroke Ward at the Nottingham City Hospital; I soon realised it was not bad at all!
The event took place while I was in the land of nod. I woke to find myself all disoriented, dizzy, and confused. I was sprawled half-in, half-out of the £300, second-hand, c1968, eyesorely-horrendously grungy coloured, haemorrhoid-testing, unfit-for-use, recliner. Unable to sit up at all, I was lolling to my right. Actually, I thought I might be dreaming at the time and sort of waiting for the fog to clear – of course, it didn’t. The most embarrassing thing in my life (Bar one, but I’ll not mention that!)…
Mass Bodily Fluids Flood – The deluge!
Miss this first section if you are queasy!
(A lifesaver, thanks to Nottingham City Homes!) And the deluge came! Trying to work out what was happening and pondered on whether to press the Medical Alarm Wristlet button…
Every part of my body that could leak leaked! This was without any warning and so rapid, even the tears that eructed out and I think missed the face cheeks it was so violent. The nose ran, sweat poured from all over, I dribbled from the mouth – but the worst two of all – the bowel evacuation almost shot out, and the wee-weeing too! (at The QMC later, the Doctor said that my ear wax turned to liquid?)
Even pressing the alert button was hard work; I was swaying about and fell out of the chair onto the floor as I got to the control and pushed it. Then found out I could not talk to the controller who answered the alarm!
QMC – Then City Hospital Stroke Ward
Yet I was aware of the mess I was in and ashamed! But I was talking again, but so aware of how I must have looked and smelt! A blank spell from then on until I was being pushed into the scan room at the Queens Medical Centre.
Memory went until I was in an ambulance on the way to the City Hospital stroke ward, The Newell Ward. They kept taking me for e-rays and scans for the day, but I can now recall little of the processes.
Sister Jane and Pete turned up later. Having been to the flat and cleaned up the mess I had made – Bless Them! So many of the patients were in a much worse condition than I was, which made me realise how lucky I had been. Walking again needed some therapy, and since then, I have started stuttering. With Peripheral Neuropathy diagnoses two weeks earlier, walking ever since is a challenge nowadays. But it could have been so much worse!
One morning, a new patient arrived. He looked like the spitting image of Tyson Fury. They had to move some beds to make room for him, which he was wheeled in on.
Then The Wailing Nights Began!
For about ten hours every single night – for fifteen of them, the poor chap would start calling out for his Mummy! No one else got any sleep! But it was not his fault, naturally. The insults being thrown out to him from other patients desperately needing sleep obviously made no difference.
After the first two or three nights, Tyson (I never knew his name, I can’t remember it if I did), who had been placed near the door, opposite the rota board, realised he could see the names of the other patients, and he would go through everyone… ‘Bill, Bill, help me!’ ‘Malcolm, I need help, fetch my Mum, please!’ ‘Dennis, call for my Mum, I beg you!’ And so forth… then start again repeatedly for hours longer!
The insults and lousy language slowly got worse as the frustrations grew in the other occupants. “F’ing shut your F’ing Gob!” and “Oi… shitting nob-rot, shut the F’s up” are two that come to mind, of the many. Although I had sympathy and empathy with Tyson’s plight and had resisted joining in the angry banter… on the last the 15th night, I very nearly did, but I didn’t.
Unfortunately, they gave me Clopidogrel to help prevent any more blood clots. Then found out I had an allergy to them. Hence the ankle ulcer and extra bloated feet and legs.
Move Me To A Nursing Home
I was so relieved when a doctor told me that they were desperate for beds for new stroke victims. Relieved? Ha! Had I known what was to come, I would have refused to go! They would be moving me later in the day into a Nottingham City Homes care home for a couple of months.
The single room, with adjoining WC with a shower, was nice and snug. There were no shortages of residents to come in and have a look around and help themselves to anything they fancied. Amongst the things that went missing were one hearing aid, pens, biscuits and a pair of socks. I later saw a bloke wearing the easily identifiable diabetic bamboo socks. My Get Better Teddy Bear from TFZer Pattie in Canada disappeared, but I found it in the TV room?
The routine went like this:
A carer would come in to help me get the ankle strap on each morning. They all got it wrong, nearly crippled me! Hehe! The door would open (no locks), and a mystery voice would yell out, ‘Breakfast in ten!’ Then give me the medications. I missed many breakfasts.
Occasionally a cleaner would come in to ‘do’ the toilet and moan if I’d left any shaving foam in the sink or floor.
The midday food summoning would be something like “Tea!”, “Food!” or “Nosh” followed by the estimated time I have to be down for. I missed a few meals.
Evenings, medications and taking the ankle strap off.
Inchcock with his retrieved Teddy Bear! ♥
I was told not to leave the site at any time. During the nine weeks, I was there, my laundry was only returned to me three times. Sister Jane and Pete kept me supplied with socks and shirts from the flat. They asked me to make a statement for the police when a bloke attacked a woman with a knife.
If nothing else, this experience has made me all the more determined to avoid going into a care home.
In a Repeated Dream
For several weeks after leaving the Car Home, and Jane and Pete returning me to the flats, I had a repeating dream… I would be leaving the hospital… with the Grim Reaper calling me back to the Stroke Ward. I don’t think it got to me badly, but I was glad when they stooped! (Watch it now, the bloody thing will start again!) Haha!
Part of the Inchcock True Tales of Woe & Make E’m Laugh Series!
I hope this guide and advice to Sanity is anecdotic,
Making it humorous, truthful and not dogmatic…
I reckon that the secret and trick,
Throw in some limited, sporadic slapstick,
Trying to make it read what it is, authentic,
Allowing bits to stray off subject, get frenetic,
Getting it to rhyme can ruin the grammatics,
All a part of my unfortunate written gymnastics!
Getting hopeful of success is something you must never do! Accepting failure, that is really the way forward for you, You must never think that victory is possible, or due, You’ll be disappointed and start feeling blue… When Whoopsiedangleplops and Accifauxpas accrue, Expect the worst at all times; hopes must discontinue! Or depression will ensure your dreams are slue!
When disablements arrive, and the mind wanders off, too,
You’ll never again be capable of using a corkscrew!
Toileting involves bleeding, and will it or not pass?
Even multiple distress will affect you having a slash…
Accept it; good luck is not bound for you!
Accommodate failure from pain and hassle; there’s no rescue!
You’ll feel much better when you do!
I know doing as I suggest may seem uncanny, silly, I tell you because I think it is my duty… To pass on my failures and inform you see… From old age and ailments, there’s no bouncebackability, So I use the written word and my verbosity, To help the ankle snappers later in life, from getting panicky…
It’s normal for aged proletariats to wear a toupee atop, You girls may turn out to look like Hetty Wainthroppe?
Which suits me; she gets my remaining desires on the hop! You’ll be less likely to manage a mutton chop, But may get someone to nip down to the wineshop Of course, your needs for fun don’t just stop… However, reviving certain areas will be a dead flop! Which may well bring forth the odd teardrop, Sadly, you have to give up the old Bebop! As did your Dad and Grandpop! And, the Lads will have to give up being a fop!
One thing you’ll get better at is the bellyflop…as such, Falling into bed, and with any luck… No injuries, so you don’t look a schnook! No loose bladder movements to blot your copybook? To hope you sleep better, by hook or by crook… Best to have Guinness or gin midduck!
To me, Arthur Itis, Anne Gyna, Reflux Roger are small fry! Peripheral Neuropathy, on my right side, to undignify! And Saccades in my right eye… Often they may cause a tear and outcry… Not often, though, only when they intensify… While I’m trying to get some shuteye! Press on we must, do or die… That sounded dour? Writing that… but did I? Slipped in by my Alto Ego? I’ll give him a black eye!
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A Bit Of Fun
I came across the name of a mountain.
Does anyone care to guess or tell me where it is in the world?
Of course, I knew straight away. No, I didn’t look it up on the web either… Okay, I did!