We look at the escapades of our past and present MPs like Blair, Brown and more…
Should we have voted them in – they’ve all lied – more than once before,
Blair with his Ploutomania and addiction to killing and war,
Cameron out to kill-off the NHS that’s certainly for sure,
Cleggy his pet supporter has a lot to answer for.
Nigel will fail, despite his being cocksure,
Vince Cable a man of whom I am suspicious and unsure,
Their lies, cheating and fiddling we seem to ignore?
I might be uneducated and rather poor,
And been guilty of voting for one of em before,
Now this lot I hate, they make me teeth sore!
Written by Inchcock on Saturday 18th April 2015 while he was suffering from rumbling innards and frequently demanding trips to the porcelain – Where he naturally was inspired to make this ditty as he thought of Britain’s Members of Parliament
No NHS patients, unemployed personages, or disabled LOMM people were harmed in the creation of this load of rubbish.
It ain’t easy selecting who to vote for is it midduck?
Is there a candidate who is not a liar or a crook?
Find one and you’ll find yourself thunderstruck!
And do you really give a hoot or a flipping cluck?
Maggie closed the pits and factories down she did,
John Major turned out to bit of damp squid,
Tony Blair damaged the Labour Party to be candid,
Gordon Brown went deaf and turned the UK rancid,
Then Cameron aided by nifty Nick Clegg made their bid,
The 2011 summer riots cost tax-payers a pretty few quid!
The thought of voting for any of these turds is vile,
Nigel has panache and is a misleading Anglophile,
Cameron, well ought to be put on trial,
Nick’s past tricks one can only revile,
Ed’s got no humph or any style.
Wanker Osborne? He’s the Bankers friend!
There are no depths to which they will not descend,
There’s none on which you can depend,
Their extinction you could recommend?
Their nummamorousness we can’t comprehend,
Perhaps it’s time for the world to end?
As part of the Inchcock Parties ‘No Secrets Ruling’, as discussed and passed in the Leg of Mutton Arms snug last Wednesday night – we hereby present the portfolios, views and complete range of investments held by each of the Parties Top Shadow Ministers.
We approached each prospective member and asked them to supply details of their investments and holdings openly – so that voters in the 2015 May elections can understand the worthiness and honesty of each of our prospective MPs.
Shadow Prime Minister: Clivey-boy Danton
Apart from being a part shareholder in a casino or two, West Ham bookies, owning a few second hand car showrooms, Watchit Solicitors, an interest in Gregowskis & Farage Romanian Wine and Tobacco Importers, Documentational Reproductions Inc, an investment in me brothers Walthamstow Dog Track, West Ham Sports Supplies, Lighter Watches and Mobile phone supplies and shares in various breweries I have little in the way of financial investments. I lead a quiet life and attend the Chapel when I am not doing charity work for the Kray brothers inspired Danny Soz Young Ladies Appreciation Society yer know. The wife Jilly supports me on most of my political activities. Convincing her that a few jars down the Abbey Arms to encourage the locals to vote for me is part of those duties is hard – but she does welcome me back home after a hard nights campaigning and helps clear me head stomach and mind in readiness for the next days challenges. There’s no doubt about it, I am a Red Tory with affiliations to the I Hate Blair movement and National Socialism in it’s milder form. So there you have it in a nutshell – that reminds me I’ll have get me creams rubbed in – see you later… “Jill…. Jill…”
Shadow Minster of Transport: Mike Steedenski
Before I became a complete and utter alcoholic and had to turn to politics as a career, I used to be a Police Officer. Fair enough, some of the jobs I had to do didn’t turn out right I admit this – especially me traffic controlling skills. So I moved on to become a part-time PA and Brewery Bottled Ales tester. I lost that Ale Testers job when they found me sober twice in six months. So when I was blackmailing Inchcock threatening to reveal all about his unnatural desires for Shemales and his drinking addiction to Dandylion & Burdock in an effort to get some cash together, we came up with the idea of starting a new political party see? So here we are like. As for investments, back-handers and profit from hustling… I’ll ask the missus Shirl (Councillor Shirley Blamey, Shadow Minister of Education) to type out a list fer you later when she gets back from her sponsored fact finding trip to the Bahamas to compare their figures with those of the UK on the European Spadefoot Toad mating habits within the confines of urban areas between 0500hr and 1000hrs on weekdays when it isn’t raining. She should be back in six months or so. Mind you I’d hate anyone to think that the donation I received to my campaign funds from Inchcock himself was in any way bribery or backhanding – and I’d like to thank him now for the 25p.
Shadow HM Treasurer: Marissa Bergen
I think I could be of benefit to the UK as Treasury minister – and at the same time give the Europe lot a poke in the eye by having an American minister in the Government? Being a Politician, Banker, Rock-n-Roll Supermom, Musician and very good with numbers as well, I believe an Inchcock Government would be good for the country. My investments are mostly in the banking world – I moved out of the oil share thing when I learnt of all the fracking going on – there might be a song in there somewhere… “Whole lot of Frackin’ goin’ on!”? No? Ah well. My total investments are probably less than $18m. The return of the Punk era music would help the economy no end.
Shadow Minster of Justice: Big Gaz
The police force will be reduced to tackling traffic, junior school riots, dangerous mobility scooter drivers and pavement cyclists member. My own squad would take over the rest of their duties. Sentences would be given that mean what the say. VAT on knuckle dusters, Lugers and Champagne Perry will be removed. The death penalty will be returned and anyone being nasty to dogs will get it! My investments? Well antique stuff will also get the VAT removed and my Government department will check every item to see if it genuine – this may cause a bit of a backlog in trading, but we are prepared to purchase any viable company who are struggling. I have no investment personally youth… believe me mush!
Home Office Shadow Minster: Churchy
All suspicious moneys, diamonds, jewellery, bank drafts, drugs, investments, films and books of a sexual nature etc will be examined by my department before being allowed into or out of the country. member. Any female immigrants aged 18 to 24 will also be given a medical and permission for them to remain in the country will be decided on the outcome of their medical at my office in Whitehall. As for my investments, I’m broke, flat broke, gone into financial liquidation, not a penny to spare, had to take a job on as part-time postman… Hehehe!
Culture Media & Sports shadow Minister: Shirley Blamey
I intend to get hands on when I get this positions. It is essential that all male athletes competing in sports have a thorough working over… well check that their various bodily parts are in full working order before being allowed to compete – and shall be out in the field to ensure this is so. The older male competitors will be allowed to compete without checks being carried out. There will be random checks by myself six days a week, of selected personages such as those in this photograph as an example. Once I’m satisfied of there capabilities and the fitness of their foibles they can play away. Now then, my investments you ask about my financial investments? Huh!
Mental Health Minister: Inchcock (interviewed via email)
Cause the drugs like make yer lose it like dont they.
No… I dont fink so like…
Monday 13th April 2015
Went down to make a brew and found no porridge – Tsk! – must get out and get some today.
Took a photo of the sky from the back and then the front of the flea-pit, everything was damp.
Arthritis Reflux valve and Angina all okay. Ulcer no bother at all. Cancer growth very tender. New ticker valve ticking away. My voice has gone a bit guttural and croaky. Eyes and nose still running. Haemorrhoids stinging a bit but no bleeding. Infection in the ears bothersome – but being as I forgot to apply me spray that’s not surprising like.
Translated me almost unreadable notes about me dream:
I was dashing about the rain soaked streets of a town – black and white this part of the dream – trying to get into shops but something always stopped me, seems like it was the 60’s to me, yet I think I was after some new batteries for me camera, obstructions everywhere… and in patches I found myself in a posh ballroom chasing after a cuddly pretty lady – not catching her, then back in the wet streets and shops, climbing the walls to gain entry into a department store because they would not let me in through the front doors? Suddenly I was with Dad on his horse and dray in the same dank dark and filling the tin bath one back? – Then I was climbing up the walls of a store again (colour images now) and as I struggled passed each window, chickens came out and pecked gently at my curiously pale blue skin? Eventually getting on the roof and found the chickens had laid some batteries for me camera?
Cold this morning, or perhaps I just feel it cause of me having caught chill?
Took me medications and started this diary off.
Coreldraw9 froze within minutes of opening it – Grrr!
This turned out to be rather interesting hobble photographicalisationally speaking that is anyway.
Walked on and right into Gregory Boulevard where the ancient but beautiful trees adorn the pavement and share them with more lampposts than seemed needed?
It was nice to see the kids on the fields actually playing an organised game of cricket. Unfortunately there were no English kids, so expect Pakistan to rule the world of cricket in the next five years or so.
The usual weed-dealing yobs were lurking in the free exercise area. A feeling on unease was in the air – can’t explain it… uncomfortable like, made me feel a little nervous for some reason – but I could see no reason?
I plodded on and came across a site that made me smile and think of it as: Mechanical Triffid Attack in Nottingham – Nottingham Defence Volunteer Shoplifters Kill it in the early hours of this morning!
Might be a funny post it that somewhere?
Swine! – Tsk!
To the tram-stop and one came almost immediately and I travelled, remembering to swipe me free-pensioners bus-pass on the platform before gerrin’ on it like – oh I do love me free bus-pass to bits!
The tram was busy – with the usual selection youngsters sat on the disabled seats with tinny music (I think it was anyway) reverberating from the attached ear pieces.
Arrived at Bulwell station and got buffeted by the other more mobile passengers in their rush to get off the tram and beat it to the crossing into Bulwell. This is very common on this route – and I have the bruises to prove it.
They were very put-off when the tram driver pulled away without waiting for them to cross the line and I heard a few chunters about it when I caught up with them.
I poddled over the line, across the bridge over the river Leen and fed some pigeons en-route to the market place and the cheapo shop.
Got some bits from there and wandered through the market place on me way to the bus-station and forgot I’d not got many of me porridge pots, so went back and got some, then started off over the market to the bus-station and realised I’d forgot to get me tomatoes – back over the market and into the Iceland store – gerring a bit weary and fed up wi missen now. hehe!
Got a pack of tomatoes and noticed they were selling some packs of small buttered new potatoes that were cookable in the microwave and tried a pack – I regret not getting more now as later on I found them to be absolutely delicious!
The sky was getting a little threatening now.
We moved out of the station and joined a queue of traffic that I never found the cause of, but had me crossword book with me and pretended to be getting the answers like – in truth I’ve been on this crossword 19 for ages now – I can conceded failure again and will have to cheat and have a look at the answers before long methinks.
I took a photo of them little scrota as the bus eventually passed them and they rode off on the pavement of course, causing apprehension amongst the locals.
Got through to Carrington without further incident – and then remembered to collect me prescriptions from the chemist.
Back to the flea-pit via the thankfully yobbo free twitchel.
Bought more than I intended to methinks…
Made me nosh for the night – kept getting the feeling I’d forgotten something important somehow – still got the sensation now, can’t seem to get it out of me head?
Krakowska, the new buttered potatoes, tomatoes, cooked beetroot and some bread thins.
Really enjoyed it too.
Took me medications and watched a DVD – fell asleep.
Woke abut two hours later and started this diary.
Bit of hassle with downloading the photographs from the camera card as this newer, more powerful excuse for a laptop kept failing to recognise the drive – Tsk damn and bother!
Still, after rebooting it eventually allowed me to.
Just after midnight I got it posted off.
Tuesday 14th April 2015
Woke up and WC’d 063ohrs and did me ablutions and took me medications and Blood Pressure.
Made a cuppa and took a photo of the sky from my usual position enroute.
The growth on my shoulder the only one of me ailments really bothering me this morning – I must remember to attend the Treatment Centre next Tuesday and not go to the launderette I thought – which prompted me to get moving.
Made another cuppa and started this diary to here.
BJ arrived and we were off.
The traffic was bad.
We arrived at the launderette to find Mandy on duty with one woman customer doing her washing – and using four machines!
I wondered how big her family was.
The reflux valve started to play up and BJ started to pass wind regularly – so with my belching and hiccuping and BJs musical alto passings of wind from his rear-end, the lady hurriedly packed away her washing and left the launderette.
Where the aroma from their cafe attracted me so much – I nearly almost went and considered getting something to eat there.
Neither BJ or I could identify what the aroma was mind.
I proceeded to spent far too much again.
We were soon out and on the way home – BJ forgot I was in the car and drove passed me street then realised what he’d done – we did larf!
He went back and dropped me off, lifting the heavy stuff to the door for me – bless his foibles!
Now me plans were to have summat to eat and get me medication pots tended to.
A vertible feast – but couldn’t eat it all, me eyes bigger than me stomach again – Still I did me best and the pigging it seemed to calm down the reflux valve a tad?
Then I had brief idea that I should now be making up me pots of pills – and fell asleep! Huh!
Woke up hours later, just in time to take me evening medications (Missed the midday ones) and pass a lot of wind from both ends.
Did this diary and then some Facebooking before spending several hours praying to get some more sleep in…
Wednesday 15th April 2015
Weird that – unless it was something to do with the dreams I’d had but can’t remember owt off?
Did me blood pressure, that turned out to be: Sys 162 – Dia 93 – Pulse 88. Still no idea what it should be mind?
The trees in the photo wot I took out of the window have some greening some not yet – I wish I knew a little more about nature – come think of it, I wish I knew a little more about a lot of things.
Took me medications, passed a single tiny involuntary ‘splurb’ of wind and thought “Phwor… wus that me?”.
Did some Facebooking and remembered thanks to me keen, alert, sharp young brain (And the alarm wot I set last night to remind me) that I had an Iceland delivery coming later.
I’d forgotten I’d got me INR tests today when I ordered the Iceland stuff, so it looks like being a long day fer me.
Got a letter from the GP surgery today: Telling me of my appointment at the Circle NHS treatment centre next Tuesday at 1440hrs.
It tells me I must take all medicines I am currently taking in the original labelled packaging to every appointment? I’ll never be able to carry that lot with me! I’ll show the pharmacist the letter today and see what he says on me way to me Warfarin IJNR level tests at the QMC. (Forgot – Tsk)
Can anyone really expect me to remember to take them all and then put em back in the proper order, or not to lose them en route, or drop some? Oh dear!
Started this Diary while waiting for the Iceland delivery.
Took some bags out to the bins.
Delivery arrived and I put the stuff away – some of it anyway.
The sun was out, and even I was warm this afternoon as I plodded down to the bus-stop to catch a bus into town.
Changed buses on Milton Street and caught a Y8 bus out to the QMC for me INR Warfarin level tests.
Took me ticket and was in within five minutes.
I gave the nurses their nibbles and showed them the letter about me taking me medications in with me and two of the lasses took a look at it for me.
They suggested I take the empty boxes of each of me medications with me next Tuesday – good idea I thought, thanked them and was soon back out in the sunshine.
One of them suggested I take a look to see if any new spots moles or growths had appeared lately and take a photo of them with me to the Treatment Centre appointment.
I caught another bus (Oh the wonderment of me free pensioners bus-pass, the freedom and bliss!) to Bulwell to try and get some more of the Baby potatoes in herb and butter for later int week.
The photo gives an impression of family joy and contentment – if you could have heard the f’ing and blinding that was coming from some of the kids mouths though…oh dearie me!
The gaggle of unemployed personages outside the Job Centre was depressing – so much so I decided not to take a photo of the poor devils as they sat on the wall drinking lager and listening to their music on their i-pods.
I walked along the riverside to try and get a photo of the mallard geese – but the arrival of six apprentice yobboes giving it some mouth spitting and drinking made me change me mind and I wobbled directly to the market place.
For some reason memories of when I worked there at a Marsden’s store in 1963 flooded back to me.
I got to the store and got me potatoes and some bread and some tomatoes and some… well I bought too much again. Tsk!
Popped into the cheapo shop and got some 6 pack crisps at 2 for a quid! Spare-rib flavour?
I rather liked the pink one middle row second from the left.
Managed to avoid the pavement cyclists on me way back again to catch the bus – two bags to carry now so no chance of getting a photo of ’em.
On Hucknall Road, just before Carrington the bus stopped opposite the Rajah Foods store that opened early last year. The owner has kept it looking clean and well presented, and spends a bit on advertising leaflets.
But I have never been passed when anyone was actually in the shop shopping? I wondered how they made it pay?
Note the arthritic fingers holding the camera in the reflection from the bus window? They’re mine yer know! Not the bus windows… the fingers like.
I overcooked the meat thingy and the outer casing was inedible even for me – Huh!
Ate the food and fell asleep.
Woke up three hours later and laptop on, passed wind, belched and updated this diary.
Took me medications with some lime and lemon flavoured spring water. Better late than never.
As I changed me things I noticed there were some new spots and tiny growths on me legs – so took a photo as the nurse suggested to take with me next Tuesday – caught me Arthritic Knees rather well I thought?
Fingers crossed I don’t delete it meantime.
Did a bit of Facebooking and started a blog post A poem about the Elections this May – but not happy with it yet, it’ll need a lot of editing methinks.
Thursday 16th April 2015
I’ve learnt better that to reply to these junior scum-merchants baiting – but it irked me to have to just hobble away saying nothing again. Put me on a low that did.
Laptop on and continued with editing this Diary.
Did some Facebooking then got me head down and within 5 hours I think I nodded off. Tsk!
Friday 17th April 2015
Still, I reckon I got in a good 7 hours kip last night/this morning.
Made a cuppa and some porridge and took me medications ASAP.
Spilled me tea – swore got scolded on me ankle and went down stairs to make another cuppa – in fact I made a flask of tea this time.
I found some scribbled notes that I had apparently written in an effort to recall the dreams I’d been having? Had to read them with and very few actual memories of the dreams remaining in my befuddled brain, but here’s the gist of it from the notes wot I had wrote like.
I was running in the countryside, had to get somewhere urgently – came to some houses and ran into the garden – car in the driveway – man and woman came out – I realised I was naked, grabbed a giant nappy and wrapped it around myself – (Can’t read this bit) – pushing the car to get it to start with man and woman inside it, engine fired and they would not let me get in and drove off – Running again on road now caught up with a flat-back Ford Thames lorry stopped at a road junction in village, tried to climb in the back of it – People I felt I knew kept throwing me off the lorry, each time I bounced on giant sponge cake back up into the back of the lorry to be ejected again, this seemed to go on for hours? – A man said something to the others and a tall man with a beard got out a gun and shot me in the head – I floated above the listening to them talking (Can’t recall what they said) for a while and then I found myself on the sea-bed as a shrimp and was eaten by a an eel or snake. That’s all…
I cannot really recall making these notes – odd innit?
Did a bit of Facebooking and as I did, felt the warm wet sensation of the bleeding haemorrhoids.
Got up and cleaned myself, noticed more new spots on me legs and arms. Arthur Itis and Anne Gyna were both being kind to me. The coughing continues. The growth on me back remains painful when touched. The reflux valve is not playing up at all yet. Despite me ailment being easier, I have a feeling of apprehension again?
Took me BP and Temp using me new machines: BP: Sys 145 Dys 78 Pulse 83 Temp. 33.3c (91.94f) still no idea what they should all be? I’ll call in the chemists (If I remember) on me walk to the tram later and ask them.
Got missen cleaned up and polished and got the things ready for me walk into town and tram-ride to Hucknall.
Set off, remembering to call at the Chemists to ask the Pharmacist about me BP and Temper readings. She muttered something about not easy, can’t define then said they’ll do.
I thanked her and left.
A sturdy couple of Asians, man and wife were braving the weather and having a stroll through with the lady ten paces behind. I thought that’s nice them getting out like that.
I hobbled on, still feeling a tad confused with everything about and around me? Maybe today is the day I lose it? Hehe
Remembered to swipe me pensioners free bus-pass before boarding the very full tram.
Got into Hucknall and took me life in my hands by following the red painted pedestrian priority route through the massive car park – had to manoeuvre around cars en route to the exit.
No Marmite breadsticks in stock, but I did get some Marmite crisps, and Burtons Fish & Chip salt & vinegar biscuits and Lemon Curd pots though.
One of my hearing aids packed up and that made the conversation with the lady on the till a little farcical.
On me hobble back to the tram terminus I had a bit of a nasty dizzy. But it cleared okay.
Got to the tram platform and swiped me card then noticed a Nottinghomian lady taking notice of all the Danger and Warning signs as she almost fell off the platform so deep into reading her free newspaper, she crossed over the line doing this. No jumper on in the wind either, sturdy gal.
In the distance was the tram arriving, at least when I took the photograph – having posted it on here I can’t see it? ‘The Ghost Tram?’
A lot of folk got on the tram and it was standing room only for some – the music echoing from the youngsters machines, the kids screaming balling and mock-crying, the parent in a world of their own on their mobiles. I just sat there and passed wind – involuntarily mind!
I dropped off at Bulwell tram station and took a photo of a tram going in the opposite direction into Hucknall – from behind the Mobile CCTV monitoring van that Group 4 and Derby Security run for the council.
They caught a bloke having a go at the tram driver – they didn’t actually do anything about it though.
My old instincts kicked in from me Security days and I foolishly went over onto the platform to assess the situation, by then the tram had left and the man had gone? I inquired of the lady in the pink coat of what had occurred and it seems it was a bit of fun between the driver and an off-duty driver. Good job too.
Surprisingly these still fresh looking chips had not been eaten by the ducks, pigeons or even the sea-gulls!
Doesn’t say a lot for the take-away food shops in Bulwell does it?
Pavement pedestrians were rife again around here.
If I tried to take a photo of them all me batteries would have ran out – Tsk!
I was going to take a walk around the back road and back into the bus-station but an altercation taking place between some lads outside the pub made me change me mind, and I caught a bus there and then back to Carrington.
Dropped off on Hucknall Road and to the flea-pit – to find a letter from the postman telling me they had tried to deliver a parcel and they had left it at the local Hucknall Road Post Office for me to collect.
I couldn’t think of any Post office on Hucknall Road so looked it up on the web.
Map on the right is where it is.
It is a pressie for me from Shirley Blamey and Mike Steeden – and will not be easy for me to carry that distance – Local?
Bloody hell what a trek in my condition to carry that back home.
No I’ll never manage that. I’ll have to go begging again to Big John for a lift – gawd how embarrassing. I’ll give him a ring tomorrow and ask him.
WC’d put some cream on me growth in me shoulder and took me medications.
Had some pickled beetroot with it. It looked delicious…
Well the beans and beetroot were nice – as for the spare-ribs – Eurgh!. Fatty and tasteless, bland.
Won’t be trying them again in a hurry I can tell yers. Huh!
Remember the name: RibWorld – and avoid it to avoid disappointment!
Woke an hour or so later – still passing wind involuntarily – Updated this diary.
Did some Facebooking.
No signs of drifting off yet… Tsk!
Saturday 18th April 2015
Got in a good seven hours again – the dreams, what bit I can remember of them were of a rather naughty nature – but I enjoyed them I think?
Made a cuppa and took a photograph of the sky.
No porcelain visits yet – and the damned rumbling innards are back!
I must remember to ring Big John later to see of he can assist with a lift to the ‘Local’ Post Office to collect Shirl’s pressie for me. But not today as I dare not move out of the house – I feel it brewing in me stomach, rumbling and a-grumbling again… oh dear here I go…
Most uncomfortable. And the angina is a bit bothersome too – arthritis reflux ulcer and skin-growth not bad at all though.
Got a fair bit of medicationalisastional stuff this week, Tuesday skin-growth then Warfrin level tests, Wednesday GUM clinic, audio Clinic, busier than when I was working! I hope that BJ can manage to help me carry me gift from the Post Office on Monday – no reply to me phone calls yet.Huh!
Opened Coreldraw9 and hoping it would not crash freeze or mangle the laptop proceeded to do the header for this post. Then… searched through to do some graphics to post – but at the back of me mind have no confidence it getting em finished. Posted them on the left hand side here fer yer to have a goggle at like.
Took a break to have some nosh.
It looked good and smelt good but I couldn’t eat it all – the grumbling rumbling innards have been joined by some dizzy-spells and the haemorrhoids are bleeding again – if I live through to Tuesday I’ll tell them about it at the hospital appointment. Tsk!
Managed to get through to BJ – bless him, say’s he’ll give me a lift to the Post Office on Monday to pick up Shirl’s pressie
Dizzies still coming and going and I must admit they are of concern.
Tired suddenly, so tired.
Shivering yet sweating now – bloomin’ ‘eck wot next – Hehe.
Might try to do some more graphics and then get me head down.
Sunday 19th April 2015
Five hours dream filled kip – no notes found and no details retained in me brain about them. Huh!
Health checks carried out:
BP: Sys 126 Dia 78 Pulse 70 Temp 35.0 that looks alright methinks.
Haemorrhoids not bad at all and no bleeding – Reflux Valve very fair – Ticker ticking – Hernia okay – Arthritis fair – Ulcer just letting me know it’s there like – Anne Gyna not too good, but been a lot worse – Skin growth okay until I moved and caught it, very tender now – Dizzies had some yesterday but none today yet.
Made a cuppa and laptop on to start this diary.
The sky was not welcoming as I left Carrington, I wus surprised to see so few people about – then I realised it was a Sunday. No fleas on me – quick as a flash – Tsk!
Plodded on into town.
No incidents on route – didn’t see a pedestrian cyclist! – Honest!
Called in the public WC.
A lot more folk about now.
I called into PC world and got the cheapest mouse and mat available – then I spotted they had on the software rack – Corel Paintshop Pro X7 Ultimate on sale price at £49. I checked and it said it was okay to use with Vista – so got it like.
Out and had a hobble around Trinity Square. Slipped some seeds to the pigeons craftily and took a photo of some Bling for the TFZ gals – no idea what gems they are, but they were expensive and beautiful I thought.
Took the photo through a pawnbrokers window so I assume they were second hand?
Walked down toward the City centre – avoiding an argument taking place between five or six chaps near the general post office – no idea what it was about about… I think they were having a good verbal set-to in Polish or Ukrainian perhaps – all double Dutch to me. Hehe!
There were some tents up from the Army Cadets, Air-Force Cadets, Girls and boys Brigade with some cadets going round giving sticky badges saying ‘I support the Army Cadets’?
A typical TSM walking about with his
swagger stick swaggering as he strutted around.
A young lady sat on the paved seating lifted her little mite out of one of those silly three wheeled fashion push-chairs and the push-chair fell forward onto them – I tried to get to help them – but was well beaten to it by the young cadets.
I felt a little old and senile – then again I am a little and senile?
I was surprised to see the Labour Council had allowed a St Georges flag to be put up in front of the Council House. I think it’s Thursday 23rd this year, St Georges day like.
Still, not complaining like.
Took me hours to get it installed as well – not to mention the cost.
It freezes when I try to open or install anything?
Really really pee’d off now. Grrr!
Cold nosh tonight:
Cooked beetroot, Sopocka a cooked loin, pickled beetroots, garden peas, bread thins manarins in jelly, lemon dessert, iced lemon mini-cake and a piece of seaweed and me medications. Bet I’ve overdone it and will not eat it all again – Tsk! But feeling well miffed about the Corel Paint failure and frustrated with not knowing what if anything I did wrong installing it or how to correct it either – I do not feel like eating at the moment anyway – A Whoopsiedangleplop of sorts?
Listening to a Dean Martin compilation on You Tube at the moment – 2hours 30 minutes and well worth a listen to: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iOLxDkp0Kv4 Some great songs on it and it almost cheered me up a tad… almost!
Settled down now – just remembered tomorrow: Got the cancer clinic and then the the Warfarin level tests.
Got to get me medication packets sorted to take with me (All right all right, I know I should have got them sorted earlier – but the Corel paint fiasco got me going – I can feel me ticker ticking now, bet me BP is high. Feeling so irritable and irked about it!).
Tomorrow Monday – I have got BJ going to ring me to give me a lift to the ‘Local’ Post Office half a mile away on Hucknall Road to collect Shirl’s pressie and lift it home for me bless him – do not know when it will be – so I must get up early in the the AM and get things ready in case he is free early – I hate bothering him, a grand chap Big John.
This Dean Martin old music I’m listening to on me headphones is good, memory provoking.
The new mouse I’m using that I thought would stop the jumping about on the page while I’m typing had failed to cure the problem. (Fancy that – me failing… huh!)
Getting dark earlier tonight, a bit of rain perhaps? I’m getting passed caring, what else can go wrong?
Nipping in to get me clean jammie bottoms out of the bedroom – stubbed me toe catching me corn a hefty clout… (Bother!).
Had enough now!
Knuckled down and had anther go at importing photo to Corel Paint.
Not sure how I did it, but I got one in and practised removing background.
Not what I meant to do – Tsk!
Too late to try any more – must get me head down.
Hullo… that Facebook link has started on Elvis’s hit records now… good this is!
Not feeling up to much – hey-ho.
Scene One: A semi detached house in Hornchurch. Essex.
Father and son sit by the radiogram in the lounge
“Timothy, I have enrolled you at St Bumsteads School For Young Gentlefolk. Term begins in three weeks. Be so good as to make yourself ready
“But Pater, I won’t know any of the chaps there! Could I not stay here and be educated by you and Mater?
“Timothy, your Great Grandfather was a Bummer; my father was a Bummer, Uncle Herbert was a Bummer, I was a Bummer! You too sir, will be a Bummer!”
“But Pater, can I not attend the local comprehensive school? At least I know a few of the chaps there?”
“What? And end up like Cousin Marcus?!”
“But, he is a Member of Parliament Pater”
“Yes, for the Labour Party!”
“He owns a semi-detached house though Pater”
“Yes, in Dorking of all places my lad…Is that where you want to end up?”
“No Sir, I want to live in Cockfosters”
“There you are then, that is why you must go to St Bumsteads”.
“And become a Bummer Pater?”
“Yes Timothy, a Bummer you shall be sirrah!”.
“Do you think?…Is it possible that…?
“What my lad? What troubles you?”
“Will I be asked to be a toast rack Sir?”
“Of course! And later on, when the prefects get to know you, they will want you to become a privy bottom wiper”.
“Oh gosh, Pater, it all sounds so exciting”.
“It is Timothy, and what is more, you will have the half-term hols to look forward to”.
“Will I come home Pater, or will I go and stay with Mater and her nurse?”
“That depends. If Mater takes her medication, and there is no hullabaloo I don’t see why not. At the end of the day, I suppose there is no reason why we can not book a room in the asylum for you”.
“Splendid Pater! Thank you for this chat”.
“My pleasure Timothy, now, can you wipe my arse before you make tea”.
Dear Mr Sparko
I’m a 20 year old female who enjoys posting on the WordPress blogging website. My interests are pottery, embroidery and all sorts of arts and crafts. At first, everything was fine and I enjoyed sharing my ideas with like-minded people, who would often be kind enough to ‘like’ and comment on my blog. However, over the last few months I’ve been harassed by a man who keeps making inappropriate suggestions. I’ve told him that I’m engaged to my long-term boyfriend and not interested in his advances, but he won’t take no for an answer and continues with his unwanted attentions. Please help if you can Danny as it’s making me ill. I’ve become reclusive and my family and friends keep asking me if everything’s alright.
I traced this sleazy arseole through the IP address you provided and went round his house last night. As soon as he opened the door I’ve straightened him with a right-hander. He went down like a sack of spuds so I’ve given him a few toe-enders around the kidneys to sharpen him up a bit. Then I’ve dragged him to his feet and stuck the nut on him, breaking his nose. At this point, his old woman came out, shouting the odds and telling me to leave it out, but I told her to shut it and that it was between me and him. To be honest, the geezer was in absolute shit state by now and looked as if he’d had enough, so I stamped on his face a few times with me steel-toe-capped Martens, giving his dial the old 5 millimetre tread. On the way back down his drive, I sliced through one of his car’s brake pipes in case he tried to drive himself to hospital. Anyway Jade, I don’t think you’ll be hearing from this mug anytime soon.
All the very best for the future
Disclaimer: Danny Sparko is a fictitious character and, in no way, shape or form, reflects the opinion of the author on how these sparkling heroes should be dealt with, nor indeed, the type of swift and effective home-grown justice that would be meted out if the aforementioned were given half a chance. This disclaimer comes courtesy of the Yeah Right! Board Of Control
“I was watching that David Attenborough last night Gaz”
“Woz you mate? Lovely job son”.
“Yeah, did you see it?”
“Nah, I didn’t as it goes Clivey”
“Why’s that then mate? Was the old woman watching The Quantum Physics Review again?”
“No mate. That’s Wednesday night. No, the bloke turned the telly over Clive”
“What bloke Gaz?”
“Geezer that owns the electrical shop in Mile End Road”.
“Mile End Road Gaz?”
“Yeah. He’s a right bastard he is and no error Clivey”.
“I don’t get it Gaz, what was you doing in the Mile End Road at eight o’clock of the night me old china plate?”
“I was waiting for that David Attenborough to start Clivey”.
“Your telly was in the Mile End Road Gaz?”
“Nah, I had a bull and cow with the old woman and she turfed me out. So I took me chair down to the electric shop. He’s got tellys in the window so I dived in for a butcher’s hook. They’re on all night see”
“Blimey Gaz. Why didn’t you shoot round to my drum? I’d have let you have a gander at the little telly in the downstairs ben ghazi
“Didn’t want to miss the beginning did I Clivey”.
“What happened at the shop then Gaz? Everything go alright did it son?”
“Well, I put me chair down, poured a scotch and coke, put me plates of meat up on the window sill, opened me box of bacon sandwiches, put the umbrella up, and then he goes and changes the poxy channel”
“Changes the channel Gaz!? What a diabolical liberty mate. You should have given him a few swipes across the jaw son”
“Tell me about it chief. I very nearly cleaned the fucker’s clock right then and there. The bastard knew I’d come to watch the Attenborough bloke!”.
“So, what did you do then Gaz?”
“I said to him, I said; “Oi you pilchard, I was fucking watching that!”
“What did he say to that Gaz? I bet the geezer was bricking it after that piece of dialogue”
“Said he wasn’t running a cinema for vagrants Clivey”.
“Cheeky toe rag! I would have definitely straightened the mug for that”
“I couldn’t Clivey”
“Why’s that then Gaz?”
“Had nowhere to put me bacon sarny Clive”.
This little vignette, and insight into life in the East End of London, was conceived by Sir Garfield Hoadley Of Spitalfields and co-written in conjunction with The Right Fucking Reverend Clivey Dee, the three times Arsebishop Of Camdenbury. No pets were harmed during the writing of this piece…apart from Gaz’s Staffordshire Bull Terrier who got booted up the arse for farting while we were watching Strictly Come Dancing.
“Railway station Billy boy – you see I’ve got little Esmeralda my pedigree homing earwig tucked up safe and sound on a bed of cotton wool in this Bryant & May matchbox with a sufficiency of ripe fruit and garbage to see her through the railway journey to Budapest.”
“Budapest? Bloody hell Alfie that’s quite a way – 1002.09 miles if I’m not mistaken. That’ll be one hell of a challenge to make it back here to Ecclesthorpe-on-the-Moor. Do you seriously believe she’ll be up to it?”
“Not a problem mate. I’ve had her in training these past couple of days. Certainly when I left her at the library just yesterday she made it the 408 yards, 1 foot, 7 inches back home with consummate ease – not even short of breathe. No, she – being the thoroughbred pedigree earwig that she is – is up to the task good and proper.”
“Are there many others taking part in the event – what did you say it was called again?”
“Oh, this is the blue ribbon of all homing earwigs’ competitions; ‘The Eurostar Homing Earwig Grand Prix’ and I’ll take a wager Esmeralda is going to take the gold medal. And, for the record there are in excess of 27,000 earwigs from all over the globe taking part.”
“Can I wish her well before she’s off – you know maybe blow her a gentle kiss for good luck.”
“’Course you can Billy, I know she has a soft spot for you. Here open the box gently for she may be taking 40 winks.”
ALFRED HANDS BILLY THE MATCHBOX; BILLY OPENS IT EVER SO GENTLY; THEN DISASTER AS BILLY SNEEZES AND OUT POP HIS FULL SET OF FALSE TEETH. THE TEETH LAND UPON ESMERALDA KILLING HER INSTANTLY
“Christ Alfie I can’t apologize enough for Esmeralda is no more! There are no words in the English language that convey the guilt I feel over this tragic accident.”
“Don’t worry about it Billy boy for I always keep a spare earwig in my ear in case of eventualities the like of which has just occurred. Here, may I present ‘Savana’ my back up – plan B if you like – pedigree homing earwig.”
“Isn’t that the one you been feeding steroids?”
“That is true my friend yet needs must when the devil drives – I’ll take a chance methinks.”