Who is this Michael
Casey Anyway? ©
By Michael Casey
If you have seen Carry
On Up the Khyber from 1968 maybe then you may understand me better. So find the
film on Utube and then come back to me. My writing has lots of influences and
variants all mixed in, as well as just plain old daftness. Google Ken Dodd and
The Two Ronnies, and Around the Horne and Kenny Everett, Tom Sharpe books too,
with Don Camillo as well. Add salt and shake well and have a few pints of
Stella Artois too and then you’ll begin to understand. Though some people in my
local stores just think it’s that fat fool again, and ever so glad he’s left
the shop again. They don’t want to listen and don’t know which tangent I’m referring
to.
So I was wondering how
do my 60 Nationalities understand me, or tolerate me, and when they are reading
The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker in 7 different languages on the same
day, or my stuff in English, what are they thinking? Or do they wish I’d go
back to where I came from and play a round of golf with Donald Trump instead,
instead of polluting their minds in their countries with my rubbish.
Why I this Michael Casey
always wearing women’s clothing, should we send him an email offering clothes
at a discount from Aunty Sally’s shop in Saudi, or maybe give him a discount
from Mighty Mary’s clothing store in Morroco? Why does he boast that he is a
bigger bum than Trump, or is there a hidden meaning in what he is saying?
Why is he always looking
for a Korean Kpop girl to come and type for him, is he so poor he cannot afford
a speed typist or a legal secretary. 48 hours over 12 weeks to write Tears for
a Butcher sequel? Or is he just addicted to Kdrama, is he some form of TV
addict. Should his mother throw a bucket of ice cold water over him and tell
him to Go Outside this Fine Day and play.
But instead what does he
do? This Michael Casey just removes his
clothes and streaks all around his neighbourhood, frightening the neighbours,
or maybe they just laugh at his lack of accomplishments, and grown men are
jealous or is it worried. How would I know I’m just a reader, and thank God
this is Radio not TV, or I’d have to borrow that bucket that the ice cold water was thrown
from by his mother. But I’d be puking into it, the sight of his tight fat fair bum would overwhelm me,
I’d just puke. Though I would have to lock up my daughters of marriageable age,
Mad Dogs and Englishmen showing their bum in the Midday Sun, would turn their
heads, and I’d never want Michael Casey as part of my family. Though I do know
a Korean Kpop girl who might be interested, I’m joking now, it would be like Beauty
and the Beast, which would be an even more improbable Kdrama in itself.
Improbable that sums up
Michael Casey, think of a number, add the number of brothers and sisters you
have, divide by 4 and add 3 and then you have the number you first thought of.
And if Michael Casey could remember that puzzle from 50 years ago, then you
really would be impressed. But you are not, because he always disappoints, a
bit like a boyfriend who’s being talking in Metric and like any English girl
you want feet and inches. And I’m talking about the size of his extension.
This Michael Casey, and
you should all be speaking in a fake Indian accent like in Carry On Up the
Khyber throughout as you read this, this Mr Michael Casey he leads you this way
but takes you that way, rather like a very bad or drunk dancer. You expect this
from him, but you get that from him, when really you wanted the udder, yes you
are so very thirsty so you wanted a bit of the udder, goats milk is so very
refreshing after all. He misdirects, like a badly trained Policeman, points
this way but sends you up the garden path, where you meet Gill with a G from
StatsMR, who is this Lady anyway? She is a friend of this Michael Casey, she
lays paths and plants roses, she hangs out with workmen bringing them tea,
English tea in cups, not mugs, because Gill is a Lady. And Roses do grow on You.
Now wherever you are in the
world reading this I hope it gives you an idea of what to expect. I do also
write A to B stories too, which do go via Z as well, but blame the taxi driver
who cannot read, but in his head he does have 1000 routes. I have 2000+stories
down on paper and more in my head, variety is the spice of life and I hope when
you stumble over me and my stories you decide to come back. I also hope you
approve that I support the little guy and the far from perfect people, because
I do believe that the Person is not the Package their body is held in. The
Laughter and Mind and level of Kindness is what matter, not how cruel people
see them. We all belong where we are, and there is no going back.
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