Duncan and Inchy bravely tackle erecting an Ikea assembly (Well, Dunc did!)

Duncan (Robertson) & Inchy tackle an Ikea Assembly

Dunc was visiting Inchy at his flat.

He’s come all the way from Birmingham to help Inchy with opening his injury-defying mechanism on the kitchen windows so he can clean them.

They celebrated Inchy getting a second mug from the charity shop in the flat by having a cup of tea like.


Dunc checks out the non-existent tools available

Having a chin-wag and Inchy showed Dunc the self-assembly clothe-rails and storage thingamajig he’d bought when BJ lifted him to Ikea to have a decker at what they had that might be of use in his bedroom.

There was no stopping Dunc then – he’s opened one of the boxes and was working away at erecting the first clothes-rack in seconds! Despite the lack of tools available in the flat.

Inchy searched for ages through the dozens of big bags of stuff he’d brought to sort out from the old place and managed to find some screwdrivers of a sort.

He returned to the bedroom with them to find the diagrams spread out and Dunc, coat off, sleeves rolled up and finishing the first rack! He’s quick this Dunc yer know!

He carried on and got the other one done while Inchy pretended to be trying to get the kitchen window mechanism to work.

Then Dunc moved on to the really challenging one, erecting the canvas shelves…


Inchy took one look at the instructions supplied, his mouth dropped and he bewilderedly said he’s make another cup of tea for them… he’s not really a DIY man our Inchy yer know.

When Inchy returned with a cuppa, Dunc was well advanced and had the framework up already.

Inchy made himself useful… well he handed stuff to Dunc when he asked for it like.

Dunc trod on Inchies corn a couple of times, and Inchy hit Dun over the head with one of the bars, it was almost like a nursery social occasion in many ways.

The sweat poured from Dunc’s forehead as they grappled to get the thick plastic guides through the indicated on the diagram holes in the thick plastic sides – and Dunc let one of them slip and rebound belted Inchy on his chin.

Much grunting took place, and sounds of bewilderment like “Err..” “Shit!”, and “Argh!” permeated the air for a long time, as they failed to work out how it should have been done now they had got so far, but could not understand why things weren’t as they should have avote05been at this stage of the operation…

After long and frustrating investigations, Dunc realised they should have threaded the two upright bars into the edge of the fabric in the first place.

Inchy learnt some new swear-words from Dunc.

They had to stop there, otherwise Dunc would never get back home before the morning.

Gerry put some clothes on the racks and was pleased with them and thanked Dunc for his help.

Shame about the canvas storage thingy, but it would have to be looked at again with fresh body and minds.

Dunc and Gerry dismissed the idea of hiring themselves out to earn a bit extra as handy-men.

A sweaty tired Dunc and Inchy went down and Dunc was thanked and waved off as he left, no doubt happy to be doing so, on his way back to Birmingham.

Inchy got back to the flat and put some togs on the clothe-racks, then took a photo of the storage-rack as he saw one of the shelves shoot out and the plastic strip again caught him, this time in the gollies. Tsk!

The next day BJ called and looked at the storage thing and saw straight away what the problem was. He started on it and sorted it.

Humbly Inchy thanked him with a red face.

Dunc suggested to Inchy over the internet that this little post be done – in an effort to stop anyone ever asking him or Inchy to do any Ikea assembly work again like!

The kitchen window didn’t get sorted, but still…


Thanks Dunc mate.


Filed under Satire, Humour, The League Of Mental Men

Dear LOMM – I can’t work out how to use me thingamajig…

01bDear LOMM,

I feel the need and requirement to seek your advice on why people seem to consider me to be, as the bus-driver said as he woke me up at the terminus: “Again you old fart, can’t yer sleep at home then? Your boring me now, third time this week!”

Boring? Me?

Remote1I’ve purchased a TV for the first time in forty years in an attempt to learn about the modern day expectancies from the proletariat concerning what might or might not be considered behaviour in public in an attempt to correct my own behaviour to fit in with the said expectancies of today. Yer see.

But they left me the wrong thingamajig to change the programmes with, not the one in the tiny printed manual that came with the Toshiba set.

I looked up the name of the set and thingamajig on the internet but could not find instructions for that model, in an effort to find out what the array of frankly confusing buttons were to be activated and what they supposed to do.

After pressing some of the buttons, I’m more confused than ever yer see, cause I’ve now got a blank screen and no sound, just a blue frame around a white screen like?.

So I got on the bus and went back to the John Lewis store on Saturday morning, nice weather, not many people about but me arthritis was playing up. It wer busy in’t shop and after half an hour I gave up trying to find anyone to ask fer help. Can’t go back today (I lost one of me hearing aid as well on Sunday – Tsk) cause it’s bank holiday and if they are open it’ll be even busier.

The thingamajig is biggerer than the one I had in 1985 wiv many more buttons (Me last one had just five buttons, but I mastered that one) and trying to work this one out leaves me in a muddle.

It say’s the TV is Smart? Wot’s that all about then? It’s smarter than me I agree, cause I can’t master the thingamajig can I like.

I pressed the coloured buttons but nowt happened.

I’m not sure wot buttons I pressed when I lost the picture and sound though?

The men who came to confuse and muddle-me-up didn’t tell me owt about the thingamajig or how to use it like. They did tell me I needed a ‘Signal booster’?

I don’t now, I ain’t got a signal to boost?

So, if any on yer at LOMM can help, I’d appreciate it like.

Should I email John Lewis and ask them that way for help?

Would some hefty LOMM brutes please tell em to take back the telly cause I don’t wont it now. Or could someone ram-raid em, or blow-up the store fer me? Just a few thoughts like…


Yours Confused befuddled and slightly annoyed, Inchy.


Filed under Humour, Satire, The League Of Mental Men

September 2015 Horoscopes

Horoscopes for September 2015

01 Aries

02 Tauru

03 Gemin

04 Cancer

05 Leo

06 Virgo

07 Libra

08 Scorpi

09 Sag

10 Capri

11 Aquari

12 Pisces


by | August 31, 2015 · 1:24 am

Shirley Blamey & Marissa Bergen’s Help for the decrepit

Marissa & Shirley’s Help for the Decrepit

For those of us who are getting visits from Anne Gyna and Arthur Itis as we cope with our often considered hopelessness, our rapidly advancing dottage, and the memory and will-power fades rather fast – Do not give up hope myfriends. Please!

Thanks to the Senior Citizens branch of the LOMM Association of Decreptitude Suffers ans Alcoholic ridden has-beens, and the dedication of the Shirley & Marrisa Decreptitude Sufferers Support Affiliated Group Financial Assistance and Advice at a reasonable costs for Tottering Senior Citizens, who have developed an assured and guaranteed activity programme to relieve us all of our pain and money, by developing an easy daily routine within our capabilities, that will they claim, return us to fitness and thus a better life as long as we get on with it immediatley before it’s too late and we croak-out.

They also offer guitar lessons and self-defence tutoring.


Here they reveal their newly designed work-out routine, that incidentally applies to alcohlics and the unemployed lottery winners.

Shirley & Marissa’s Decrepitude Sufferers Support Affiliated Group Financial Assistance and Advice at a reasonable costs for Tottering Senior Citizens

Begin by standing outside against a wall with a 5lb potato bag in each hand – extend your arms out fully outwards to your shoulders and hold them there for at least 30 seconds – carry out this manoeuvre twice a day for three days. (Unemployed Millionaire Lottery winners who are paying the full cost of this course can do it for 15 seconds – any problems just call either of us… or maybe both of us to come and we will come and offer support and manipulate whatever is needed to ensure you are successful in your actions).

After the three days, move up to 10lb potato sack and repeat the exercise five times.

Finally you’ll get to where you can lift a 56lb potato sack in each hand and hold your arms straight for more than a full minute.

Next, start putting a few potatoes in the sacks, but be careful not to overdo it!


Filed under comedy, Humour, Satire, The League Of Mental Men


“Does anyone fancy being bummed…I’m fully prepared to travel?”
Written by Gary Hoadley in deerstalker panties; with telltale fingerprints on the piece, but not Hoadley’s panties, left by Clivey Dee,19.
Mr Lance Boil, made his way to 23A Bow Road, Bow, East London.
When he arrived, he was met by Mr Eddy Current. The two men went
into the basement of the property to view Mr Current’s latest invention.
“This is it!” said Current, pointing at a large wooden cudgel.
“Well I never!” exclaimed Mr Boil.
“Do you think it is something you can sell?” asked Mr Current
“Erm, it could be difficult in the current fiscal climate” answered Mr Boil.
“Oh, in that case, can you look into this barrel of sludge please?” said Mr Current.
“Yes, of course” replied Mr Boil.
While Mr Boil gazed into the barrel, Eddy Current struck him over the 
head with the very invention, Mr Boil had come to view. Mr Boil fell into the
barrel and began to melt – yes, the barrel was full of acid!
Some hours later, Shylock Humes’ trusty aide, Dr Hugh Whatson, arrives, accompanied by Constable Clipper
“No victim to speak of sir” said Constable Calliper
“Really?” answered Whatson. “Humes will find the blighter”
“Where is the grate sir?” asked Calliper
“The grate?” answered Whatson
“To light the fire sir”…said Calliper
“Blighter! Calliper, blighter!” roared Whatson
“Who is?” asked Calliper
“Humes man, Shylock Humes” said an exasperated Whatson.
“I bet he can solve this case in an instant sir” said Calliper
“He does like to catch the rakes” replied Whatson
“Yeah, I don’t mind a bit myself sir” answered Calliper
“Bit of what?” enquired Whatson
“Cake sir” said Calliper”
“Do you have problems with your ears Calliper?” asked Whatson
“About last Thursday morning sir” replied Calliper
Shylock Humes stood in the corner of the basement, listening to the two men.
A handkerchief covered his face. He did not move save for the odd penile twitch.
“I heard Mr Humes was a bit light- footed” said Constable Calliper.
“Light-footed?…Oh! You mean a raving homo” answered Whatson.
“So it’s true then?” said Calliper
“Well, he has tried to fondle my bottom a few times” replied Whatson
With that, Shylock Humes stepped forward and spoke…
“Wait just one minute Whatson!” he cried
“My god!” said a startled Calliper
“Oh!” exclaimed Dr. Whatson
“Did you hear him?” said Calliper
“Yes I did, and what is more, where the hell is he” answered Whatson
Shylock Humes removed the handkerchief from his face…
“I am here, Whatson, and what is more, I have solved this case” 
“My god Humes, how did you hide in such a small room?”
“A simple manipulation of the light and shadows Whatson” answered Humes
“So, are you wearing make up then sir?” asked Calliper
“No I am not Calliper, and let me tell you, the rumours are not true” said Humes
“So, what is this case all about then old friend?” asked Whatson
“A simple case of a man being dropped into an acid bath, and then, the evil criminal that put him there, was overcome by the fumes and ended up in the very same acid bath that he used to kill poor Mr Boil. Case solved Whatson” explained Humes.
“How did you do it Humes?” enquired Whatson
“Simple deduction my good man” replied Humes
“I thought you might have got it from this morning’s, Illustrated London News, who ran a full piece on the crime, complete with illustrations” said Calliper
“Must leave Humes, I’m going to the theatre” said Whatson, making for the door.
“Goodbye old friend” 
“See you Dr. Whatson” said Constable Calliper
“I say, Calliper, have you ever been to a Turkish Bath House?” asked Humes
“No sir, I can’t say as I have. Would you mind awfully taking your hand off my bottom sir? said Calliper
The End


Filed under Humor, Humour

Inchies, It’s been a Funny Old Life.. Part 3 Updated

It’s been a Funny Old Life.. Part 3 Updated


I started with nothing, I’ve got most of it left.

At shoplifting Mother was rather deft,

Eventually they charged her with fraud and theft,

At this I wanted to cheer and wave a wheft,

But she got off with it, and I was bereft!


I left school, started working at just fourteen,

Mother reappeared on our then contented scene,

‘Cause for several years she’d hardly been seen,

This meant I’d be broke before I was fifteen,

After most of our valuables were never again seen,

Mother disappeared to stay with Auntie Eugene,

Who later also went bankrupt we did gleen,

It not that she was nasty, cruel or mean,

She’d just leave you without a flipping bean!


But she’s sadly missed by many you see,

By magistrates, solicitors and many P and DC,

There’s often times when comes back in me memory,

In me nightmares usually.


Dad knew for Mam’s next return I had no yearning,

And she would return when I started earning,

And when she did, things would be worsening,

Bank manager and wallet regretted her returning,

The neighbours got new locks, tongues were burning,

How to lock their doors they were relearning!


She told us she was a changed person nowadays,

She’d become kinder and changed her ways,

Having just avoided the judge sending her to Strangeways,

After with the police the pillock did liaise,

The magistrates let her off with probation – this did amaze,

And that meant the restart of Dads and my malaise,

She soon started selling t’neighbours none-existent holiday chalets,

We were really worried when she offered Dad praise,

She soon ended up back in her old ways.


Conning, shoplifting, bingo halls, fag-end collecting, even conned a solicitor,

She became locally famous for that one hereafter,

The magistrates this time, got even dafter,

Let her off again – in the courtroom there was much laughter!


They gave her a flat, and furnished it, believe that can you?

The rent they paid half of it for her, and the gas bills too,

Half of the electricity bills, and scrubbed her debts it’s true!

Arranged for her flat to be decorated and furnished all through,

As she left the Court, she smiled widely and off she flew,

I imagined her inwardly shouting “Yabbadabbadoo”!

And Crime Don’t Pay some idiot will tell you!


I suppose I’ll meet her again in heaven maybe I think so a bit,

I’d better prepare for when I go and snuff-it,

I’ll spend all me dosh now, before she can get her hands on it!

Bless Her – See yer in a bit Mam!

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Filed under Humour, Satire, The League Of Mental Men

Inchies: It’s been a Funny Old Life.. Part 3

It’s been a Funny Old Life.. Part 3

CL Godiva


I started with nothing, I’ve most of it left.

At shoplifting Mother was rather deft,

Eventually they charged her with fraud and theft,

At this I wanted to cheer and wave a wheft,

But she got off with it, and I was bereft!


I left school, started working at just fourteen,

Mother reappeared on our then contented scene,

‘Cause for several years she’d hardly been seen,

This meant I’d be broke before I was fifteen,

After most of our valuables were never again seen,

Mother disappeared to stay with Auntie Eugene,

Eugene later also went bankrupt we did glean,

It not that she was nasty, cruel or mean,

It’s just that she’d just leave you with a flipping bean!


But she’s sadly missed by many you see,

By magistrates, solicitors and many P and DC,

There’s often times when comes back in me memory,

In me nightmares usually.

Bless Her – See yers in a bit Mam


Filed under Humor, Humour, Satire, The League Of Mental Men

Vlad the Inhaler: “I’m on 5 packs a day” Claims Russian President

putin ukraine

“Can you nip down the Paki shop and get me 10 Sovereign please comrade?”

In a frank interview with Esquire magazine, Russian president, Vladimir Putin, has admitted that he routinely smokes up to a hundred plus cigarettes a day, and sometimes even more during times of political tension with The West.

“I realise it’s not doing me much good” Putin told this month’s magazine. “But I find that smoking helps to calm my nerves, particularly when things are on a bit of a knife edge with the Americans. Historically, I’m not the only Russian leader to have needed a gasper during fraught times either. I know for a fact that Kruschev got through at least 3 or 4 packs before lunch during the Cuban Missile Crisis.

“Funnily enough, it was Britain’s Margaret Thatcher that got me started on the weed in 1982. I was head of the KGB at the time and she called me to ask for the release of an MI6 agent that we’d captured and were holding without trial in Lubyanka prison. I could hear a kind of sucking noise on the other end of the line, and she explained that she was smoking a pipe and that it helped her cope with the pressures of government.

“I decided to give it a go; but I felt that a pipe was a bit too western and decadent, and might make it look as if I was trying to be like Harold Wilson, so I went down the road and got 20 Capstan Full Strength and that was it really. I’d love to quit one day but I’ll probably wait until all this Ukraine business has blown over a bit”

Putin’s admission comes just weeks after German Chancellor, Angela Merkel, admitted to Woman’s Realm magazine that she drinks 5 bottles of peach schnapps a day, and was once so drunk at an EU summit in Brussels she pissed in a flowerpot in her hotel foyer.

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Filed under Satire

The Soz Satire Weekly Murder Most Foul Mysteries

Cold-bloodedly written by Gary Hoadley. Callously edited by Clivey Dee, 19.
Episode one.
Mr Fop’s Fancy
June 1887, Mrs Fop is pruning the roses in her suburban garden.
Mr Fop approaches; in his left hand he holds a large kitchen knife.
“I say darling, I wanted to talk to you” said Mr Fop.
“Oh, Hubert, why are you not at the office dear?” asked Mrs Fop
“Well, I wanted to stab you to death then make it look like one of those foreign Johnnies had done it before running off with Alfie, the office boy”
“Oh what a nuisance darling. It is Wednesday dear, and I do have the sewing club coming over” replied Mrs Fop.
“That is a bit of a blow, darling, you see, I’ve already booked the tickets” 
“It’s all work and no play with you dear” said Mrs Fop.
Mr Fop plunges the knife into his wife, she drops to the lawn, dead.
He then goes back into the house, collects his bags, and leaves.
Sometime later, Shylock Humes arrives on the scene…
“She’s dead Sir” advised Constable Clipper.
“I shall determine that constable” replied Humes.
“Mrs Fop has stopped breathing Humes” said Dr. Watson
“But is she dead?” asked Humes
“Well, she is stone cold, blue in the face, and the badgers have been at her sir” said Clipper
“She could just be in a deep coma constable” replied Dr. Watson
“No!” cried Shylock Humes; “This woman has been murdered!”
“My god!” exclaimed Dr. Watson.
“Never!” said a surprised Constable Clipper.
“But how?…why?…who?” asked Dr. Watson
“She was stabbed in the back, with a large kitchen knife, at two thirty
this afternoon, by her husband, Hubert, who then collected his bags from the house and made off to France with the Alfie the office boy” explained Humes.
“How do you know this Humes?” asked the clearly astonished Dr. Watson
“The next door neighbour told me” replied Humes
The End
NEXT WEEK: Humes solves the mystery of The Acid Bath Murders by reading a book about it.

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Filed under Humor, Humour

Mike and Inchy have an intellectual discussion…

Mike and Inchy have an intellectual discussion…


Mike said no he wouldn’t be going for a beer in Mayfair,

Cause he was going home to missus who awaited him bare,

Inchy said ‘Well she is a bit of a cracker mate, to be fair,

Mike didn’t like this, un knocked Inchy off his chair,

Inchy looked up at Mike with a questioning glare,

Said he meant no insult he did swear,

I’d never do owt naughty with her I swear,

Mike hit Inchy on the jaw, fair and square.


Why did yers do that? asked Inchy as the blood-flowed,

Yo think she’s not worth it, I’ll be blowed!”

She’s more attractive than Doutzen Kroes,

Yes agreed Inchy, and don’t I just knows,

My desire for her just grows and grows.


How does you know? Your celibate Inch,

No I always use worms or maggots at a pinch,

You Inchy are bonkers, that’s a synch!

Yer talk stupid and don’t even flinch!


Wot the hell are talking about Inchy mate,

When I go fishing it’s the bait I use like,

You’ve lost me now yer pillock! said Mike,

Does yer go fishing for goldfish or pike?

Nae, that’s too much like the Third Reich,

The Third Reich, stupid git, gerron yer bike,

Well said Inch I like Dick Van Dyke,

Norras much as yer missus Shirl’ though like!


Does Shirl’ like him then, this actor bloke?

I don’t know, but I’d cuddle em in a stroke,

Cuddle him or her? Inchy are you having a joke,

Well Shirl’ of course not the flamin’ bloke!


Inchy: Anyroad, why did you hit me on the head,

Well I could have kicked yer in the goolies instead,

That’s wor I like abarght yo, your so well bred,

Clever, adaptable and yer nose is cherry red,

Inchy, that’s thanks t’Claret grapes wot I tread,

‘Ave yer become a vegetarian then instead?

Hang on Inchy, I’m losing the thread,

You’d berra geroff home then and be fed!

At this the two comrades in insanity parted, Mike returned to “Shirl’ the girl” to be pampered spoilt, and imbibe the Claret,

Inchy nipped off to miss the last bus home to take his medications.


Filed under comedy, Humour, Satire, The League Of Mental Men