Selfies Galore

Selfies Galore ©

By Michael Casey

Now where shall I begin, let me look in the mirror and pull in my rather large belly, and maybe pluck and eyebrow or two, and I am just a bloke, and we are supposed to be less vain. Now I’m ready I’ll get my camera out and take a selfie. I just hope my arm is long enough to take a good picture. Or I could get one of those fancy cameras with a lcd screen on both sides. Or I could balance the camera on the mantelpiece and hope Totoro our cat doesn’t knock the camera, I could just end up with a picture of the cat’s bum. What do you mean it would be so much better than a picture of me and my rather large belly.

People can be so cruel when you post pictures of yourself online. I only do it so that you can see just who is this Michael Casey from Birmingham England. The face behind the 800,000 words and counting, I hope that in a couple of years I’ll reach my 1,000,000 word.  And I’d like to live long enough to reach my 2,000,000 word, my fading health permitting. I’m going through a pain period of my life at the moment, but God is good, and he’s spoilt me in the past, so maybe he’ll spoil me even more if I say more prayers.

Back to Selfies, people have fancy phones with cameras on, I don’t myself, I cannot even tell you where my mobile is, and as for the number, I’ll win the lottery before I remember the number. I thought paying 10 quid for a phone was a scandalous waste of money, it’s just a dad’s phone, millions of dads have them. As for kids they must have phones with cameras on, nowadays you get 10megapixals and more on a basic phone, and internet too. All of which keeps Car Phone Warehouse and their ilk in money, millions of money.

Kids take selfies and send them to their friends, and they are posted in cyberspace, so the whole of Life and History itself is recorded. Excuse me Mr Hitler can you goose step a bit higher, so I can send a photo and video to my mum in Buenos Aires. Fat Boy, can you move out the way, I want to take a picture of the missile launch, what you are the leader, you’ll strap me to the missile so I can send video as I strike Japan.

People really do lose their mind once they start taking selfies on with their phones, quick let’s get a good selfie of the man drowning at sea. That’s great we got some good shots, now let’s go to the pub and take selfies of us drinking, under-age drinking. Did anybody call the rescue services? No, we were too busy taking selfies, but we can call the undertakers instead.

Famous people can become famous, just by taking selfies, I do of course mean the Z list celebrities, Joan Rivers IS sadly missed, as she had a sense of prospective and knew how to call things by their proper name, BS is always BS.  So I was thinking of covering myself in chocolate and getting naked nubile Japanese girls to lick it all off. Then I’d take selfies and see if I could break the Internet, my derriere is much bigger than that lady whose name I cannot remember, I think she has a relative in North Korea of the same name, Kim something.

If it’s strange or involved beautiful women, it just has to be turned into a selfie to adorn the internet, somebody is making a lot of money somewhere, I just think that men should get in on the action. So the darts team should appear  naked in front of the pool, the pool table that is. With just packets of cheese and onion crisps and pints to hide their blushes, they could use it to crowd fund a new toilet door in the gents.

All manner of things can be selfied and unmasked  by the camera phone, you cannot piss in a shop doorway on a Friday night without your willie being snapped and exposed on the internet. Do you recognise this man would be the caption. And on and on it goes, though the thing people don’t realise is that while they are taking selfies of the moment they are missing the moment. Life if to be lived, yes take photographs, but live life first.   

 Next you’ll even be recording yourself making love, instead of just enjoying making love. Though didn’t somebody do that, and where did that lead to, to a selfie life where your arse is more important than the content of your heart.

The Cat with Two Birthdays

The Cat with Two Birthdays ©

By Michael Casey

It was Totoro’s Birthday yesterday, my small daughter told us Totoro would be One so it must be true, the cat couldn’t speak for itself after all. Totoro was born around the corner, one of a litter of four, I was shown a picture and it was me who picked him out. I had said jokingly that they could have a pet, if I died they could have a dog and if I had a heart attack they could have a cat. So immediately my 2 daughters went on the Internet looking for both cats and dogs. I just laughed.

Then a few short weeks later while still in the Christmas Season I had an unplanned quadruple heart bypass, the decorations were still up on D5 in City Hospital, this was in Jan 2015. My bed was right next to where my dad was when he had his near fatal heart attack, it’s all in Padre Pio and Me. I said don’t tell me anything to the doctors, so they just told me it was a triple, then 6 months later I discovered it was a quadruple. There were also 3 Michael Casey’s in the hospital at the same time, or was it 4?

So I came out of the QE, as they did the actual op there after I’d been transferred from the City Hospital. I had an Indian surgeon and an Italian Prof look after me, while I read Don Camillo prior to  O day. But what about the cat? The girls held me to my promise, and as my daughters friend was having kittens we were pencilled in to have one.

So I said a male cat was easier to deal with, no stray kittens etc. Then I picked out the male cat to join our family. A cat box was bought so they  could carry the kitten home. A cat basket made of wicker was bought too, not forgetting a litter tray and cat litter. So everything was sorted. You just have to grab the kitten and place it in the litter tray whenever it started to pee or pooh. You have to be quick, very quick, it’s easier with a baby as they have nappies. And why do cats always choose up a corner amongst all the wires of the tv?

Our Totoro, is named after the cat from Studio Ghibli if you were wondering, but my girls are ½ Chinese/Shanghai so its natural the cat should have a Eastern/ Japanese name.  Totoro also had another trick up his sleeve, Totoro was not a boy, he was a she. Totoro has six nipples, which proves he is in fact a she. This does not really matter, but to be on the safe side Totoro had to be done if you know what I mean.

A cat is a great thing, they have personalities, our Totoro even likes to play the piano, and if 25^th March really was his or should I say her Birthday then she shared it with Elton John. Though Totoro just jumps all over the piano, and is not as musical as Elton John, not unless you really are a very harsh music critic from Melody Maker.

Today Holy Saturday we had a text from Totoro’s human mother saying happy 1^st Birthday, and don’t forget your 3 siblings. So we had to sing Happy Birthday Totoro all over again. Totoro just took it all in her stride, which is very quick as she gallops all over the house upstairs and downstairs and in my lady’s chamber or her own litter tray.

We have a stockpile of Whiskers under the kitchen table, as Ocado will deliver it for you, I tried moving some and hurt myself in doing so.  Don’t move heavy things after heart surgery, even after 15 months as it really hurts. But I’ve learnt the hard way.

Let There Be Light ©

By Michael Casey

Let my tears be my words

Let the candle light be my eyes

Let the flowers in bloom be my lips

Let their scent be my blood

Let the wind be my breath

Let clouds be my mood

Let children's laughter be my hope

Let widows' sighs be my conscience

Let a stranger's prayers be my delight

Let the bees be my wisdom

Let the trees be my strength

Let my patience reach to the stars

Let me be always remembered in your prayers

Political Statements v Fashion Statements

Political Statements v Fashion Statements ©

By Michael Casey

Well what a week we are having in Politics, it’s been an interest of mine since I watched Robin Day with my dad on tv, nearly 50 years ago now, where have all the years gone? We’ve also had news about Posh Spice being bailed out by Beckham, which is the more important you can decide for yourself, if you are female no doubt the size of IDS’s lapels is of extra ordinary importance, it makes your eyes water just thinking about them. The size of somebody’s lapels may or may not be connected to the size of their majority, or hands, if you know what Trump is on about.

In England people, or rather politicians say something without saying something, or even anything. Then they go on political interview shows to say the same thing over and over again, without even saying anything at all. They never want to be nailed down to say anything just in case they cannot deny it in the Future. On Fox news in the USA they’ll say he’s a SOB, but in the quaint nice way Southerns  say things, I do have a soft spot for the Country and Western way they speak.

As for Fashion, everything is a statement, it screams and shouts, and lets it all out, especially now that we have FAT models, though they are too pretentious to say FAT models, and yes I am still livid because I was not chosen to be one.

Once Fashion has gotten over its fixation with Black, which is just a ruse to hide FAT, then it IS much more interesting. Some of the Fashion really are works of Art, there was a show on tv that explained it all to me, and yes I was converted, I think it was Karl Lagerfeld who has the different coloured gloves from when he is working to his normal day wear. My own daughter wears her old horrid glasses when she is studying and her fancier ones when she is trying to look fashionable, the frames she stole from me, but that’s another story. Judging by the scores she gets, the method really does work.

So we have the idea of bright and brash fashion, and the dull politics we have here in England, though if you are a Politics Nerd then this weekend is like 4^th July, or should I say Bonfire Night 5^th November. So what if  Karl Lagerfeld got his hands on our Politicians.

Cameron is wearing a pair of clowns  shoes and a see-through shirt split to the navel to display his six pack, with skin tight trousers to display his plump derriere, with a blue, very bright blue Bolero jacket, he is a Tory after all and blue is his colour. His hair is in a Mohican style, with all the colours of the rainbow sprayed on, we are all in this together after all, the colours represent all the strands of society.

Jezza Corbyn has been first dipped in sheep dip,  Karl Lagerfeld refused to touch him without that first being done. Jezza Corbyn has had his beard dyed and clipped, he looks like Van Dyke now, not Dick Van Dyke with a fake London accent, but the painter. He has a designer T shirt, with a hand painted design on it, “Winner”, what that really means Karl Lagerfeld refuses to say, and he’s not the kind of person you annoy by asking such questions to. Jezza has  red cords on, he stubbornly insisted on these, so Karl Lagerfeld has hand painted windmills all over them with the Haywain stamped on both back pockets.

As for the Scots Nats, they are all wearing Manchester United shirts, which may or may not have anything to do with football, or it could mean they are sulking and taking the ball back home with them.  On their trousers is a graph of oil prices, it ends in the turn-ups, with the word Black Hole hand painted on.

All in all quite a fashion show, our clothes define us, and hint to what we really are. As for me, you have all seen my photo attached to my pieces of writing, not just vanity but I hope you like seeing just who wrote this or that, nearly 720 pieces now, not forgetting the 600 comedy drama novel too. So I said to Karl, and yes I do call him Karl Get The Lagers In, and he does give me a pint of Stella Artois, he just drinks Perrier water by the pint, so I said Karl how about dressing me.

When Karl stopped laughing he changed his gloves, not to his work gloves or any of his exotic pairs, he put a pair of sterile surgery gloves on. Three hours later he said I could open my eyes, you are dressed better than an Emperor he intoned.  I looked into the huge mirror, and indeed I was dressed in the Emperor’s New Clothes, I was naked, but spray painted in gold.

Michael Model Casey

Michael Model Casey ©

By Michael Casey

If you saw the piece in the DT and probably other agencies, then you'll be as outraged as me, giving HIM a modeling contract BEFORE me. I'm so angry I think I'll call David Walliams and we'll go camping together, just to let off steam, and it would be steam in my case as I do sweat a lot. David Walliams would just do a cross channel swim to cool off, he's done that before you know, he never gets cross, just goes for a swim. Its Saint Patrick's Day today and me having Irish blood and THEY gave this tall bearded guy a chance before me.

I could do a jig I'm so livid, I could even dance in the street, and I've even done that before at Puck Fair in Killorglin, I said Puck Fair, you lot should have your ears cleaned. It said the new model, whatever his name is, has a 42inch waist, that's practically anorexic, if you really want a BIG man with a great derriere then they should give ME, the modeling position. I was almost in Zoolander2 you know, but I won't COMPLAIN about the inadequacies of the casting director, MORON.

So here I am a son of a son of Kerry, a blacksmith's son no less, and what do they do on Saint Patrick's Day of all days, they give an anorexic beaver a modeling contract instead of me. If I wasn't waiting for a delivery of Whiskas Cat food from Ocado, for our pussy Totoro I'd head for the pub to drown my sorrows. You can get a pint of extra sugar Ribena and a packet of crisps for 99p at our  local, please visit our church or it'll close down church cafe, so obviously I go there for their Jamie Oliver Special, as they call it, a 3000 calorie sandwich with extra sprinkled sugar on it.

I'm fit to cry, or fit for nothing, but I can complain to the world and the internet, why oh why didn't they choose me to be the new sexy male model. Have to go now, I can hear splashing, its David Walliams he's just swum the English Channel again, still wearing his flip flops. Oh I've forgot I've attached my File Photo.