Biography of Sorts August 2017

Biography of Sorts    August 2017

I'm Michael Casey sometimes listed as Mr. Michael G Casey聽
so check both till you find all 14 books
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Michael-Casey/e/B00571G0YC/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_1聽
I started writing a long time ago. 1987 to be exact.
It took me a year to learn how to write. I spent 20 years listening to BBC Radio 4 BEFORE I picked up a pen. I used to read by the yard too. I hope I write for ears if that doesn't sound too pretentious.
My Face is on all the books so you know who to blame I am not the Monk of the same name.
www.michaelgcasey.typepad.com to HEAR my words.

Stop Press, for those of you who wished I'd stop writing, well it nearly happened. I had an Unplanned Triple Heart Bypass in Jan 2015, and I didn't even know I had heart problems. 6 months later I learnt I had 4 grafts, so is that a Quadruple? Anyways Thanks to Birmingham's City Hospital and our Queen Elizabeth hospital I am still here with you. Though I'm still getting pain as it takes a long time to heal, and just for fun my Arthritis plays up too. I have given up eating meat and I don't eat frozen food any more. So I've lost nearly 10kilos, and I eat salmon and chicken all the time now, which is boring. But the alternative could be pushing up the daisies. I write 2 or 3 new pieces a week on my site so have a look there. And yes I write about pain as well, for without pain in our life we have not experienced all of life. Though I'd love a break from all the pain, as would all of us. Its Dec 2016 now i'm still writing as often as possible its good for the brain, and the tv news says coffee is good too, so I may drink more of my Kenco Rapore with milk. I've nearly reached 1,000,000 WORDS after 30 years of writing, my kids can put it on my tombstone, along with a new copy of microsoft word that I can use in the next life for a few thousand years.

Biography
I've been close but no cigar most of my life, such as having a play accepted by a professional theatre back in 1989, the play was Shoplife. Life is not a straight road, its more a long and winding road. I can even remember being at grammar school when Monty Python first came out. And look what happened to them. One of my brothers was actually at the same college and University as John Cleese. Another brother was at the same college and University as Mr Bean. Though not at the same time. As for me I went to work. Our dad by the was a Blacksmith then sweated for 40 years in a steel works.

The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker is a slow burner that really does catch fire, and the best place to be when a book catches fire is, down the pub, The Trader in the book. Hidden in the cellar since WWII is a hoard of whisky, whisky galore you might say. When the street of shops in the book is threatened the shopkeepers can and will resort to anything. Such as a Poet and Undertaker using blackmail. When Patrick finds his one true love, and breaks the bed to prove it what does his priest do? The priest makes him organise a fete for the children's home, now that he has made a baby he has to take responsibility for it, and the children's home fete. The priest too uses a little blackmail, so the local police stop all traffic and detour it so as it passes the children's home 3 times, just in time for the fete. The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker is a fun book for all the family with an explosive ending.
So buy it. Amazon Kindle books can be downloaded to Kindle, PC and Laptop. So you have no excuse, or does the writer have to persuade you?
www.michaelgcasey.wordpress.com &聽

http://butcherbakerundertaker.blogspot.co.uk/

Now my book of blogs has many funny pieces in it, here's a taster of what you get if you buy the book.

Stuffing Tony漏聽
By Michael Casey

Stuffing Tony, what am I talking about, no not our tame turkey whom we've decided to eat, nor anything else. Tony is in fact a soft toy, he's my small daughter's favourite, the one she loves the most. He's a white tiger, he was in fact he was her sister's Birthday tiger from a few years ago, but she cried until she owned him. Tony is a very washed out bleached kind of tiger. Tony has been through the washing machine a couple of times, he was very very dizzy when he came out. Yesterday Tony got a brother, his brother is a ginger tiger, now christened Ginger. Ginger makes us laugher because Ginger is how English people call my wife if they cannot pronounce her Chinese name.
Tony is one of 40 stuffed toys the girls have, they live up a corner behind the sofa which is just behind me. They are allowed out to form a class when my small daughter plays teacher, afterwards they climb back into their Iceland bags and go to sleep. There is a problem with Tony though, he's lived in the fast lane and lost a lot of weight. So following strict instructions, today I have done a stuffing transplant, which is like a heart transplant but much more important and dangerous. Today without any sedative I have made Loony Chick donate some stuffing to Tony. I took the scissors and make an incision in Loony Chick's behind, I then proceeded to remove the stuffing. I had previously made an incision in Tony's neck at the back, it was then a process of removing from Loony Chick and stuffing Tony.
The whole procedure lasted 20mins, Tony now looks very plumped up and proud, as the leader of the pride should look. As for Loony Chick, he, she or should I say it now looks as if he'd had a few dodgy kebabs, very slim, but at least the head still looks plump. When the girls come home from school we'll decide what to do with Loony Chick, should we stuff him with chopped up old clothes, or bubble wrap? Or should he face the death sentence and be sent to a Charity shop, I know it sounds cruel, but since he came back from Shanghai in 2009 he'd mainly been a cushion.
These are the very serious things a modern parent has to deal with, luckily I know how to sew, and I have a special relationship with all the toys. Now that Tony is full and looks like a weightlifting Tiger I hope Ginger won't be jealous, otherwise one of them may have to end up in a zoo, or the closest equivalent, in one of the 13 charity shops near our house.

www.michaelgcasey.wordpress.com
www.michalgcasey.typepad.com to hear me read my stuff
www.michaelgcasey.tumblr.com to hear me read my stuff
http://butcherbakerundertaker.blogspot.co.uk/
are places to read my stuff, comic in the main.

I would love a spot in a newspaper or magazine, print or online.
I would love a spot on the radio too, 90 seconds with Michael聽
where I'd read a blog out on the radio every day. I have 900!
So if you agree with me that it would be a great feature do get in touch

I also think a book of my stories with facing page translation plus my audio聽
attached would be a great way to teach English via humour to foreigners聽
I have enough material for a series of 20 books.
So angel investors get in touch
My shorts/blogs are 90 seconds long.
My 12 books can be bought here on Amazon Kindle,
DON'T FORGET KINDLE BOOKS CAN BE LOADED TO PC AND LAPTOP NOT JUST KINdle



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I've just grabbed this so you can have a read over night. 

some links do not work  so google "michaelgcasey" to find me in all my glory

or sniff for the smell, of Movelat pain killer gel



JOHN LEWIS here in UK is opening its Christmas shop online, it is a fantastic shop by the way

anyway here's a randomly  chosen piece about Christmas

4 months before the event, but Christmas in UK is worth a visit

and you can sit on my knee and I'll go HO HO HO

 now there's an offer to entice all my far flung readers

Christmas Was Cold

Christmas Was Cold ©

By Michael Casey

Christmas was cold, and Kevin did not like it, he didn’t like it one bit. The agency had said they had a job for him , it was a temp job and it involved a lot of travel, and it paid well, very well.

So Kevin took it like a shot, he’d been unemployed for a while and he wanted to bring some money in so he could go on holiday to some place any place warm. They had said he’d get a free holiday as part of the package IF he took the job.

He arrived at the port and went into a warehouse, he’d be interviewed in there said the agency. He looked all around and he could see nobody, nobody at all. Then he heard the sound of boots echoing behind him, he spun around to see and elf approaching. He laughed, the man in the costume looked so silly.

Only it wasn’t a man in a costume, it was a real elf, only Kevin was too stupid to realise it. He’d never seen a real elf in his life. The elf looked Kevin up and down, he half smiled. Kevin was fat, very fat, the kind of fat where his belly was bursting his belt, it wasn’t overhanging his belt, that would have been disgusting. No Kevin was fat, perfect fat, for the perfect job.

The elf asked him did he know why he was here, and did he have his passport with him, the usual stuff when you apply for a job nowadays. The elf walked away with Kevin’s documentation in his hand.  Kevin looked around the warehouse it was empty, full of nothing.

Full of nothing as far as stupid people could see, if Kevin could use his eyes then he’d see that the warehouse was brimming with people and every kind of thing. This was Christmas warehouse. The elf returned holding a Santa suit in his hand, Kevin laughed, so that was the job, Santa at a store. Well he needed the money so he put the suit on.

Kevin felt dizzy, he had to lean on the elf for support, he had stars in his eyes, he was seeing things. The elf took a glass of water out of his pocket and Kevin drunk it willingly. Noise and fireworks appeared in the empty warehouse. Kevin fainted.

Kevin awoke in another world, in Santa’s world, now he could see that he was in Santa’s workshop, there were elves everywhere. He must have been drugged, he rubbed his eyes and felt his face. He had a beard, a long white beard. He’d been drugged and transformed into Santa, suit and all.

The elf explained, that only a man with a perfect belly could stand in for Santa at Christmas. Kevin was the chosen one, he was the man, he was Santa. The real Santa had broken his leg while skiing in Birmingham, so Kevin was the standin.

The elf went through the Health and Safety rules, HO HO HO, always 3 HO HO HOs, other than that there were no Health and Safety rules. The reindeer would explain everything. Kevin looked around he could see no reindeer, the elf led him outside to the dock.

A submarine surfaced and the sleigh and the reindeer emerged, reindeer can hold their breath for such a long time.  They are waterproof or seaproof too, the sleigh has water repellent paint on it too, made in the paint factory in Birmingham, you know the one just down the road from the reindeers friends in Ladywood Fire Station.

Kevin was impressed this was more like James Bond, he high fived the reindeer, they licked his new beard, that’s what reindeer always do to Santa. The elf smiled he was sure they’d get on well. The elf answered the unasked question, why the submarine?

The submarine was to get into countries where Santa was not welcome, North Korea was one of them. A sleigh would be spotted on radar, so Santa would sneak in and shower love and happiness and hope amongst the people.

Kevin shed a tear, he was Santa now, so his heart felt the things Santa felt. The submarine levitated and turned/merged into a bigger sleigh, a very large sleigh. Eat your heart out James Bond, Santa has much better toys, literally.

Kevin shook the reins and away they went into the night sky, Kevin ho ho hoed his way around the world. His fat belly was too big to get down a lot of the chimneys, but that’s where the reindeer came in, they formed a team, a tug of war team and pulled him up and down the chimneys.

The reindeer could of course get down all the chimneys, they held their breath and wriggled their bums, it was easy for them they had been doing it for centuries. That’s why your Christmas trees get nibbled in the night, it’s the reindeer, its hungry work flying around the world with Christmas presents.

Kevin, or should I say Santa realised why he needed the beard, it kept him warm, it got cold, very cold flying high in the sky. They did stop on the River Po, just to say hello to Don Camillo, he was a priest but sometimes he was on the naughty list, and sometimes he came off the naughty list, depending on what he and the mayor had been doing.

The sleigh/submarine had a never-ending supply of presents, Kevin, I mean Santa got into the swing of things, the reindeer sung carols, 1000s of them in lots of different languages, they were a carol jukebox. Some brought tears to Santa’s eyes.

Dive, dive, dive they had to sneak into a country to bring Hope and Love, no presents just a loaf of bread. The reindeer didn’t nibble on any trees, as Christmas trees and Christmas itself were banned. The reindeer cried, but there was always Hope.

High and Low, Up and Down the sleigh went over the face of the earth, Santa HO HO Hoed, tonight Christ was born, a new light had entered the world.

The work was done, the world had been crissed and crossed, the reindeer headed back to the warehouse. As the sleigh landed Kevin’s beard dissolved, he was Santa no more. He looked around the warehouse, the elves were dissolving into nothingness, the reindeer trotted away still singing Rejoice Rejoice Emanuel.

Had he been drugged, was this all an hallucination, it couldn’t be he felt Love in his heart, he had been Santa for a night. As he walked out of the warehouse his footsteps echoed into sky, Kevin looked up and could see Santa in his sleight, his crutches besides him, and the reindeer still sung Rejoice Rejoice Emanuel.