A Glimpse Of Stocking

A Glimpse Of Stocking ©

By Michael Casey

Well yesterday was Ash Wednesday so I hope you are all still there, you may have given me up for Lent. I think we need a little levity so that’s what I’ll try for today. There may be pauses as the pain demands attention like a spoilt brat, or a North Korean leader, I’ve thrown in a political joke just for the journalists reading this. You think I’m a girl mentioning the pain, I’ll throw a few adjectives at you or even a metaphor if you are not nice to me, I’ll tell my Polish fans to come and hack you. 7000 plus hits in less than a week from Poland, maybe only they find me funny. So move to Poland, you really are so cruel, I’ll come a live next door to you. I knew that would shut you up, call yourself a sub editor, emphasis on the SUB.

Now that we’ve sorted out who is the boss shall I begin, and see I’m posh I use shall. We wish you used more deodorant. Silence in the ranks, I look like the Elephant in the Jungle Book, or is that just the smell. If any of you mutter anything again I’ll send you to Donald for a spanking.

Now spanking is a key word in English, those naughty boys, the SILENT naughty boys smile at the very mention of the word. If you have seen the Carry On Films then I need say no more. What I want to talk about today is how values have changed so much. Personally I think it’s all in the mind, what? It, it is all in the mind. 

You don’t have to lay it all on, or swamp everybody with it, it not IT, there is a difference. You know it, or shall I shout  IT, and I mean IT and not IT. Sometimes the Press pack are so deliberately boring. Donald give them a really  good spanking from me. I know MATT the cartoonist has whipped his crayons out already and you have a queue, or Line as they say in USA of journalists waiting to be spanked by Donald.

Ok I’ll leave that idea in your mind and I bet it’ll appear somewhere in cartoon form within a week, I am Mr Cartoons made from Words after all. Now where was I, yes I’m sat here talking to you all, and I have to confess I get Russian readers too, Putin reads me, yes he does, his MAD magazine got stuck in the post somewhere so he started reading my column, Nelson his press secretary put him on to me.  That’s what a bushy eyed man told me by the frozen peas in Aldi yesterday, or he may have been asking me to putin the peas into his basket. I just wish I was a linguist, LINGUIST, you lot are so slow sometimes.

Yes, what I really want to talk about today is the wanton use of sex in the media. In days of old a glimpse of stocking was classed as shocking but now anything goes. I think I saw it performed at the Good Old Days on tv. What is amusing us all at the moment is a feminist deciding to flash or half flash, her upper bits, I won’t use any words as it may upset nanny. I can hear the sound of the cane in the distance, 

Donald is spanking the journalists in the distance. They should have saved the DC Digger Metro Edition, not because its second hand bargains were the best in the whole of USA, and the supermarket coupons inside were always for the best shops. But because if you stuff it down the back of your trousers no amount of spanking by teacher will hurt.  

So rather than talk about the level of nudity, let’s look at this sideways, and sometimes you have to because the way things are published. Should I, moi Michael Casey from Birmingham England, should I have a shirt split to the navel to expose my quadruple heart bypass scar. Should I wear see-through pants, as you call trousers in USA, should I expose my short fat and hairy legs to show off my scars. The scars run from my socks and stop at my, well too high to mention, only my nurse has examined those regions. 

In today’s world the   Stars show everything, only a butcher shows more, laying in his shop window, and if the Stars were naked in a butcher’s shop window could you tell one piece of meat from another? And no I’m not suggesting the butcher lies naked in his shop window only holding his cleaver.

What if in the future the circle turns full circle. You wear a suit with cut outs exposing your elbows, just your elbows. The screams from women in the street as they faint with shock. Exposed elbows, terrible, shock horror. Somebody take him to Donald’s office for a spanking, he must be a terrible journalist or some such thing. Then even worse a suit with exposed knees, otherwise totally totally formal but the knees exposed, the utter depravity of it, exposing your knees in public.

The absolute worse of the worse would be shoes, patent leather shoes with the big toe exposed and wiggling for the whole world to see. Off with his head, somebody call the executioner, what Mr Pierpont is on holiday. Donald will have to give him a double spanking instead. Where is Pierpont? Oh, he went on a Nudist holiday to Brighton in England.

Oh just for the record Donald is a She, in these days of gender equality anybody can be called anything they like. Donald is the President of the Bad Grammar Corrective Ink Party. A private members club for Journalists in DC. What were you all thinking, I told you it’s all in the mind.