Teasing ©
By
Michael Casey
I wanted to write something new but
although I have a load of possibilities I could share I don’t want to share
them with you yet. Am I actually teasing you all already? I do have a load of
ideas and they are fresh but I’m not ready to share them with you yet. So as I
pondered what to give you, like a mother wanting to save the cake will the
weekend, or until Christmas, when I realized I could talk about teasing.
So
that’s what’s on the menu tonight, 2nd Sept 2018 a Sunday if any of you are collating my word.
You must be so sad if that’s all you have to do. Go out find a girl and make
love, or adopt a dog and take it for a walk, but staying home in front of the
computer reading what Michael Casey the fat silver haired writer in shades from
Birmingham, the one in England is up to? Or is that the ultimate chat up line, I
have read all of his words in 16 books on Amazon?
You must get a better hobby for yourself, watch paint dry. Though we have a new Polish friend called Carol who watches a lot of paint drying, but he is a decorator.
You must get a better hobby for yourself, watch paint dry. Though we have a new Polish friend called Carol who watches a lot of paint drying, but he is a decorator.
Ok, so while you are here, share those
French Saint Michel biscuits from Marseilles, they really are nice, stop don’t
take them upstairs, leave me some. I’m talking to my girls we just got those
biscuits from my brother who has just returned from Marseilles. No he’s not a
sailor, in the French Navy, though he does wear bell bottoms, they are back in
fashion after all. These are the normal family arguments when fresh treats
arrive in the house.
What will you do for me if I give you a
biscuit? I won’t spit at you is the reply as a gob full of spit is prepared
ready to spray over a sibling. This was our family life in the 1960s. One of my
brother was really good at spitting so you never teased him about biscuits or he’d
spit at you. He was a great shot and long distance too, and oh so accurate too.
He was also great at dribbling food down the front of his jumper too. Losing
things was his forte too, mum used to say “he’d lose his arse if it wasn’t tied
on to him”.
As children we love teasing each other,
where is your little sister? And you’d make the others guess, and say were they
hot or cold as they searched the house for her. In the end she was stuffed into
a cupboard or wedged under one of those old steel beds with exposed springs
underneath.
Teasing is fun, the teased person goes
mad, of feels as if they are being tickled, or had banged their elbow or coccyx
so it hurts but makes them laugh simultaneously. As a child you are so excited you may even pee yourself,
until you find out were we really really getting a dog. Don’t tease the child I
can remember my dad saying to my brothers and sisters. Then he’d buy me an ice cream
to calm my tears, and that’s why I was called the Pet. I repaid him when he was an old man by the
years of sitting by his side.
I like to tease but do hate being teased.
I’ll just curse and walk away if anybody attempts to tease me, they have no
sport of the target moves away. Though
lovers enjoy the teasing, it’s almost a form of foreplay, have you bought me
that house, or where did you hide my red
pen, I have to mark all those horrid students’ exams. Where did you hide the Stella
Artois, I’m desperate for a drink. If you give me the Stella Artois I’ll give
you the red pens. So a trade is done and as you get merry your girl marks the
exams.
When she is finished you offer her your
body, your fat and hairy body. She says she’s decided to leave you and become a
Lesbian. So you do a strip tease and stand defiant, can your lesbian give you
this. You girl looks at you and laughs, stealing your Stella Artois she has a
well-deserved drink. Then she marks your body with her red pen, putting
numbers, marks out of ten on various parts of your body.
Only what she does not realise is that those new pens from
Amazon are the never fade variety for teachers. The Stella Artois is finished
and there is only one thing left to do, yes she has to prove that the marks allotted
are justified. So you go to bed. And yes she did not use all her pen on all
your body. Though in the morning as you sleep she writes A minus on your
behind, then she heads for the shower.
You join her in the shower, and she
teases that the ink never fades. To your horror you discover she is right, she
was not teasing, you bought those pens as a token of love for your love, now
you are all marked up. You are an ass, an A minus ass.
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