Sunday, 24 January 2021

21 Door Keys for Unemployed Politicians Everywhere

if anybody blackmailed me I'd say publish and be damned, my Priest knows everything already, and he is such a gossip.

Lance that boil GOP....

 the start of the next book

21 Door Keys ©

By Michael Casey

My 21st full length book

 

 

 

Old Clothes for New ©

By Michael Casey

 

I haven’t written a story story in a while, so here goes. This will in fact be going into my 21st full book, 21 Door Keys, I’ve just named it, so come back in a year and I’ll have 200 pages or so for you, or 100,000 words, but only God knows. And how did I get the idea, I had nothing seconds ago, well my small daughter sat at her desk next to mine remarked on my old Flasher Mac, that I’m wearing to keep warm. And that was a spark which will become a  story, so if you are sitting comfortably then I’m begin.

 

Gerry worked in the Charity shop, he sorted and hung all the clothes up on hangers, and tidied up after the rush. The rush mainly being Old Folks looking for a bargain, it was not like Primark with knickers discarded everywhere, or the back of the Old Hens Nest bar, where knickers also used to get discarded, but that’s another story. No Gerry was no Pacemaker, though he did have a pacemaker inside of him, so he avoided standing too close to the radio. All in all though he liked his job, 3 days a week in the warm of the shop, so he saved on heating where he lived in a Tower Block.

 

There were benefits working in the Charity shop, when old old stock was dirty he could buy it even cheaper. So all shades and fashions became his passion, he had a washing machine and knew how to use it, so he ended up, a very dedicated follower of Fashion. There was a 6th Form nearby, and a retirement village too, so a whole variety of clothes landed at the Charity shop, Gerry mixed and matched and became not an Englishman in New York, more like a dandy from  Birmingham. George Melly, but without the belly, though he did know how to have his hat at an angle. He watched Jools Holland on tv, and learnt all the tricks, to stand with attitude and  make clothes sing, it was a music show after all.

 

So all this meant turned up at the shop looking different every day, almost gay but happier. Gay means happy by the way if you are younger than 50 you may not even know that. Trevor was Gay, he was a gay Gay, always with a smile on his face, he also did a day at Charity shop, obviously he and Gerry hit it off. Trevor was studying Fashion at the Uni down the road, and  he could ponder the world while he worked in the Charity shop, it also gave him ideas for  his fashion. He could also buy up the old old stock and transform it into something new. So two and two makes four, and don’t shut that door, because they liked the air to flow through the Charity shop. Trevor needed a model, and Garry was roped in. I should also say people thought Gerry and Trevor were an odd couple, or father and son, and  that’s how it begun.

 

Gerry could pose, he was a very good old poser, too much Later with Jools Holland ensured that. He even started to wear black eyeliner so he’d look better in the snaps and videos for Trevor’s Book of Clothes. And yes Trevor was a great designer too, and with Gerry he was a pacemaker, but the Fashion crew at Uni were a great big family so Gerry felt so happy there. He appeared in more and students Books of Clothes.

 

Things went swimmingly and he even met Miss Himmingly, who wore juicy red lipstick and fishnet tights and a beret, the beret rotated in different colours of the rainbow. But  otherwise she was Oh La La French, with a pencil tight skirt and a red leather jacket. That was her look and she didn’t give a hoot what other people thought, she was Miss Oh La La, in fact that’s what everybody called her, through her dark sunglasses.

Gerry’s life had blossomed, he was as happy as Larry, maybe even as happy as Larry Grayson, now he never had a grey day, just a gay “son”, so it was Fashion week and he was asked to join the catwalk. This meant lots of quick changes, but Miss Himmingly said it would go swimmingly, she’d stand behind the curtains and tear off his clothes to help him get ready. Almost like a scene from White Chicks. So that’s what she did, he walked the walk, and she tore the clothes off his back.  But in  the excitement and confusion, he lost his own clothes. So Miss Himmingly said he could wear he French mac and she’d give him a drive home in her 2CV. So that’s what they did.

 

On the 13th floor, and it was a Friday, Gerry let Miss Oh La La  in, and he gave her back her mac. Now if you spend an evening ripping the clothes off a man it can be very arousing. So Miss Oh La La suggested as she had ripped his clothes off repeatedly in the name of Fashion, then he should do the same. Gerry thought it as a bit of a joke, but he complied with her wishes, until she was naked before him. Then she removed his long johns. The urge was out, she had known him as a model, now she’d know him as a man. Was it wrong, on Friday 13th to give away to gay abandon. Oh La La Miss Himmingly, she wore sunglasses to hide her heartbreak from a past love, now she’d throw them away and always be happy and gay. You see, Garry may have a pacemaker, but he knew all about rhythm, too much Jools Holland and Later no doubt.

 

Miss Himmingly asked, do you think I’m a tart? NO, said Gerry the Urge will out, and now it’s Time for both of us. Besides our  kids can all have little berets and I could grow a pencil moustache. Oh La La, and the 13th became the 14th and the 15th. For three days they were at it, until Gill from StatsMR who lived next door, banged on the door and threw a bucket of ice cold water on them, steam rose.

And that’s how Gerry and his pacemaker, became a pacemaker and got a wife, yes she was 30 years younger, but Love is Love. The Charity shop closed down, but Miss Himmingly took over the lease and sold her Fashion students’ clothes in the store. They did design a nursing  bra for her, in kinky red latex, they were Fashion students after all, and actually that design was a big hit. So that’s a true love story, and  you never know when Love will comes acalling, you can shut that door now, it’s a bit chilly.

 

 

Finding a Wife for my Son ©

By Michael Casey

 

Now as you all know Esther is a friend of Mrs Murphy, a dear friend now, if you remember they met by accident. Mrs Murphy’s daughter in law’s dad was at Rotary thing and an astronaut came to give a speech and help raise money. He mentioned space blankets and Mr Kemp wondered where he could get one for his daughter’s Irish mother in law. The astronaut had laughed, but when he heard about Mrs Murphy praying so much and catching a chill his radar had come on. So on leaving he went back to Mr Kemp and shook his hand, he palmed him a name card and on the back he had written, tell Mrs Murphy to call this number. The number was Esther’s, she was a woman who lacked nothing, her son was a space zillionaire, making satellites and so forth. Esther collected friends, true real friends who she could share gossip with, who weren’t brown nosing to get close to son. So astronauts and  everybody were unofficially friend hunters. If you have all the money in the world, friends, true friends were pearls of great price. So Mrs Murphy had rung the number thinking it was a discount store or something, Esther had played along, as she brought up a satellite feed and told Mrs Murphy she has a few slates missing, on the back of her back chimney. This later led to Esther and Tiny arriving for the miracle birth of triplets, which in turn led to Malta, but you can find those stories, as well as well as When the Sergeant Major kissed the General, which only happened because Esther has found not one but two coding geniuses, while she was on the way to Malta after the miraculous triplet birth. Simple really, maybe this writer is destined for Korea, as it all sounds like Kdrama, but I digress.

 

Esther’s son was a maths wiz, and Esther herself loved poker, and still does, but to find the seed money for her son’s first idea Esther had played poker and beaten everybody including the local Mafia bosses. Being beaten by a little Jewish lady was a shame, so they kept inviting her back, and she kept beating them, but Mafia never know when to call it a day. Esther has looked at the statue of the Madonna in the back room where they played cards, and said to herself, listen Mary as one Jew to another, you help me and I’ll help you.

 

Esther never lost a game to the Mafia, so she soon had enough seed money for her teenage son’s first idea. Her son became a millionaire, and after that he didn’t need anybody else, as money begats money. Esther was true to her promise, so Saint Jude’s got an anonymous benefactor, appeal after appeal was answered. As for the Mafia, they begged her to continue playing poker, so she did, it was a bit of fun after all. Until they all got busted, and went to Sing Sing, they thought their families would suffer, but Esther sent them each a postcard. A friend in need is a friend in deed, love Esther and Saint Jude. You can guess the rest.

 

So the years past, and her son went from millionaire to billionaire, always so busy, he never had time for a wife. Italian girls were nice, Esther knew many, thanks to her poker playing, and connections with Saint Jude’s. She knew lots of Jews too, down the Temple  they all wanted to meet her son, but none seemed good enough. When there was a girl who could be daughter in law material Esther had them followed by satellite and on foot by ghosts. There would be no gold diggers trapping her son. There were several really nice girls, and she was about to introduce them to her son, but there always was a but. One was about to be mugged, but the ghost intervened and broke bones of all 4 of them. I should explain, special forces were the level of ghost Esther used. A bit like, James Bond, or Jason Bourne, or Rambo and Terminator, they were Esther’s boys. So on this occasion it was James Bond who intervened, and then the lady feel for him instantly, so he ended up marrying her. And yes History does repeat itself, so her ghosts got the girl, rather than her own son. But the Ghosts and their wives loved Esther the more.

 

Esther was at a Bar mitzvah for one of the Ghosts’ children and she had dragged her son along, the Temple had been double booked, but Fr. Michael had offered Saint Jude’s church hall, so there the Bar mitzvah was held. Her son was playing on his phone while Esther buzzed around like a bee, hearing all the news from her Ghosts’ families. As she buzzed around, Esther sighed, my family gets bigger, but not my own flesh and blood family. Esther sighed, she saw the statue of the Madonna in a corner. Maybe I’ve not done enough good works, Mary as one Jew to another, if only I could find a good wife for my son I could die happy, did you used to nag your son the same way?

 

Now God works in mysterious ways, at that very moment a serving girl, had fallen over Esther’s son’s stretched out legs. Crockery everywhere, her son’s phone smashed to the floor.  Everybody looked up, Fr. Michael was going to intervene, but a hand held him back, Esther knew, she just knew, as any Jewish mother knows. Her son helped the serving girl up, he apologized. Sorry, what’s your name? Mary, of course it was Mary. Esther looked the statue and winked, little did she know, they’d meet again in Malta.

 

It was thunder, Esther had searched high and low for a suitable wife  for her son, then one had fallen for him, or fallen over his feet. Mary was perfect in every way, no need for satellites or ghosts. Esther wrote a cheque for a million dollars and  put it in the poor box under the statue of Mary. She’s post one for 5 million to the Temple too,  her son was the 6 million dollar man after all, what with all his technology.

Now I could go on with the courting and so on, but what  people do in private it’s up to them, though the ghosts and their families did go on multiple holidays, as Esther wanted to make sure they used protection. As for Esther she went to Vegas, she’s fleece them, as her charity knew no bounds, she just had to keep on making money to give it all away.  

 

Music Power ©

By Michael Casey

I was going to talk about Ariana Grande but I thought she might not understand the British sense of humour. As you know Taylor Swift does a bit of high dusting for me, she is so very tall after all. Then last night Ariana’s concert was on tv so I thought, as Ariana is the bee’s knees, and likes jumping about, maybe she could help Taylor out. So swing low, dust high, the perfect combination. I mean Ariana has such very long hair, so as she practices her routines she could  sweep my floor with her hair, and her nice hairdresser could get  any chewing gum out later. My own daughter once got bangles or something stuck in her hair, so my lawyer sister-in-law had to use chop sticks to untangle her hair, this was after we landed at my brother’s house for Christmas dinner, if I look I may even have a photo of it somewhere. We are a Shanghai/Birmingham family after all, so we had plenty of chopsticks, and I don’t mean on our old piano either. Anyway that was the idea, but Arians might not approve, so I won’t bother.

 

Taylor was just down the chip shop getting salt shaken at her, and not for a tap dancing routine in front of the frier. The Friars do live next door in a church, they like chips too, that’s why they are so fat. No Taylor had her head turned, the boy, still spotty despite his years, the boy said I’d just do a bit of battering and dip your fish on both sides, before letting it bubble away, to get crispy and so very very tasty. Then when it’s ready I’ll whip it out and sprinkle salt ever so lightly all over it, then I’ll add a scoop or two of freshly minted chips, shaken not stirred. And just for you, a dollop of mayo too. You can see why Taylor swooned, he gave her a free bottle of Irn Bru too, oh so very Scottish, so Taylor skipped away happily up the hill to my door. All I could hear was the heavy breathing, I thought old Mrs  Aktar from next door was having an asthma attack, or Juicy Lucy my neighbour on the other side was practicing mouth to mouth on Annie, no she’s not a Lesbian, Annie is the dummy they use to teach first aid. But no, it was Taylor not so Swifty bringing my dinner home, and I was very very hungry. She did have a sneaky saveloy on the side, and you think butter would not melt in her mouth. So that is the real reason she does my high dusting, just so she can be near the boy from the Chippy. Her head has been turned, and those marks  on her back, from where she leant on the counter where the cooked roe are keep in the warmer. The things you do for LOVE, leaning on the chip frier, the boy and the deep fat frier. But it does mean I get cheaper lunches, as Taylor has a smile on face, vinegar down shirt, and a dash of mayo in her hair. Maybe she should ask Ariana can she borrow her hair dresser.

 

Now what has this got to do with anything? Well I’m going to talk more about Music, and Celine has had the Courage to sing for me, and I’ve thrown a fish, non-battered, at Seal so I’ll Carry On, and God is in for a treat, Dame Babs in Heaven, God help him, but God Helps those who Help themselves, and Self Help is right up God’s street, just past the Coronation pub. Taylor can explain that on her notice board, the boy from the chip show allows her to use his chalk, and put the price of his fish there on  display.

 

Music has power, this Christmas we’ll think of mum stuffing the turkey for 13, the eight of us plus our 5 lodgers, and Celine’s song reminds us of our mum, it was playing the night she died, Because you Loved Me. And so she did, so emotions flow as we hear that song, especially at Christmas. My own favourite song is The Windmills of Your  Mind, the Thomas Crown Affair theme song, and if you’d followed my writing that’s self-explanatory. Though Fr. Brain who decades later became Bishop Brain, used to call me Sancho Panza as I followed my very tall brother. And Don Quixote  did tilt at windmills, so there is the circle.

Music revolves around our lives, Seal is singing If I Could, and if I could I’d be a Musician too, not the guy in the corner of the bar drinking and grooving from afar. Certain words and  phrases have such power, Aux Armes Citoyens  as the French sing, words are uplifting, and we’ve all seen Musicals galore where a theme is repeated and it beats your breast, and makes you tingle. This is the power of music, Politicians have music at rallies too, until they get a cease and desist notice from lawyers. Even Hitler had an association with music, but let’s leave him to burn in Hell.

 

Seal is still singing, Music takes you round and around, and it does I’m old enough to remember when records were just that, with groves in, you didn’t have CDs, I can actually remember when CDs appeared, it was on Tomorrow’s World, a science programme on the BBC. James Burke is still alive, he went on to do Space programs, but back then that’s how we heard about the Future via Tomorrow’s World. Now we stream everything, and down load to phones. We had a plastic white trannie and my eldest brother got a dedication on the radio, our dad heard it, this is 50 plus years ago. So Music moves us, it is a laxative that stops us from being sad, and makes us move and groove about the house. We have music everywhere, no need to carry the one tranny with us, we have smart speakers in nearly every room. So music follows us and lead us, it is are permanent plus one. We are so lucky, in the past it was a Long  Way to Tipperary, soldiers sung as the went off to war. No Good Morning Vietnam for decades, no music on every channel.

 

Music does channel us, it channels our love our passions, especially the English Channel, or la Manche as the French call it. Which brings us back to fish and chips, the British haut cuisine as the French may mock, but weren’t French sauces invented to cover the taste of eating rats, in the 1870 siege of Paris in the Franco Prussian war? But I won’t duck these hard questions, which reminds  me we are having Peking Duck tonight, Ratatouille one of Taylor’s friends provided the duck, from the  bargain basement. As for Taylor she is scribbling away all over the tablecloth, before she has to go and visit the boy in the chip shop. He’ll just shake salt all over her, little wonder she’s glowing when she returns with a free kebab for me. It’s the only reason I keep her on, as my high duster. I’ve got the Music in Me, I let it take over, as I wipe kebab sauce from my chin. Do you think if I ask nicely, Ariana might assist with the cleaning, Taylor leaves a trail of salt everywhere. And Totoro our cat licks it up, leaving cat spit all over my floor. And Totoro will be on a hot tin roof again tonight, it’s all the salt in her system, it makes her want to dance the night away….

 

The Last Cheer for 2020 ©

By Michael Casey

Is he mad I can hear you all call

2020 was the worst year of all

Well for me too, as opposed to Me Too

It was a bad year, even without Covid 19

One sister died, though if ever you read

Shoplife, she is the Born Again shopworker, so she’ll live on

And my body has got weaker

In a few days time it’s 6  years since my unplanned

Quadruple Heart Bypass

The nurse, and just the nurse at my former GP Practice

She saved my life, as she insisted on sending me for tests

So when I went into hospital, I said have you checked my tests

70% 70% and 50% blocked, I’d gone in with major hip pains

My arthritis gone mad, and the family were in London

Meeting Shanghai relatives, so I was all home alone

The rest you all already know

So that’s why you’ve had six more years of my rubbish

Though Totoro our cat arrived too, as I had said they could

Have a dog if I died or a cat if ever I had a heart attack

Yes really, so be careful what you promise

But back to 2020 we’ve all had a rubbish year the world over

But what have we learnt or discovered?

Well folks still voted for Trump

Maybe because they wanted to stick with the Devil they knew

And avoid any ISMs

History will decide, and History is written by the winners

If we all just stayed home for 3 weeks, then Covid 19 would die

Instead we must all Mask, Wash Hands, and Stay Apart

I’ve been hiding up on our hill, and with my arthritis very distanced from all

So what is the Meaning of Life, and no not Monty Python

What is the thing you treasure

Is it free deliveries of all your stuff on the Internet

Is it Bubble Tea? Which is now Trendy.

Though being in a Shanghai/Birmingham household we were years ahead

Is it food galore?

My Muslim delivery drivers must think I’m Mulla

Wishing them As-Salaam-Alaikum as they deliver our stuff

In Birmingham delivery drivers and taxis are very Muslim

So they risk Covid as they drive and deliver

What else can  I say about  2020

Yes the tv, was great, everybody binge watched and there were

Some really really great shows

I could list mine, but I also watch a ton of Korean shows, Kdrama

So I would say, have a look at Korean shows, you will not be disappointed

Also if you listen to Music constantly then invest in a Smart speaker or two

I could name the best, and you’d be surprized, but to each their ears alone

You can get Bluetooth headphones too, which can work off your phone

So technology is really good to keep us all sane in these maddening time

A cheap and cheerful android phone, can keep families alive

And yes Jeff Bezo has got busier, but one day he’ll deliver pizza to my house

That’ll put the fear of God into him, but Taylor Swift who dusts for me will

Be here, to take the pizza from him, so she may sing a ditty for him

What else, yes going to church became an Internet thing, so I’d review Mass

And send an email or two  to priests, obvious Saint Judes is my favourite

Though I do travel all over the place for Mass

I don’t know do other Faiths do the same thing

But I’ll accept prayers from Anybody, as we all should

We all prayed for tv stars who were sick, I prayed for

Kate Garraway’s husband, because I saw a photo on the news

And they looked so much in love, I had never heard of them because

I do not watch daytime TV, it was a news item that invoked my prayers

So what else can I talk about, maybe Tinnitus does all the talking

My own has been terrible in the night, but I rediscovered the Rosary

So has the roar of the sea in my ears at night made my more prayerful

God, alone knows the answer to that

I think I always knew what real values were

I made provisions just in case Covid got me

The real things that matter really are so simple

The goodnight kiss from my small daughter  before she goes to bed

That is priceless, so when Politicians roar and swear and lie to us

Just remember that soft gentle kiss

Even if she says dad you  need a wash and shave

The simple love of a child, as she evolves into a woman

That is what I’ll remember most from 2020

And it is the only thing worth remembering

 

 

 

Soul 2021 ©

By Michael Casey

Well it’s 17.31 on 6th January, feast of the Epiphany, or when the Kings turned up late with nappy rash soother for baby Jesus. You can Google for yourselves the meanings of the Three gifts. I’ll see if I can put some ideas down in an hour, that’s how long it normally takes to write a new piece from a standing start, with just a blank space in my head. Though I hope all this reads like me sat on the sofa besides you just talking to you, that is my intention after all, talking to you. No Letter from America, more like a Postcard from Birmingham, the one in England. Harry and Megs, I’ve available to be the Roland Rat on your podcast, I am very cheap too, just ask Duncan and Sandy, or ask your dad Harry if you’re never heard of them, but I digress.

Now today is a great day, the Feast of the Epiphany, especially in Georgia, named after a mad king I believe. It made me so happy once I finally got out of bed. My church bells ring tone awoke me, and then the Tinnitus got me, some Belarusian competition, The Golden Phone, had woken me up to say I’d won 20,000 Euros. Obvious, a hoax and a scam, so I forwarded the call to Trump. Anyway Soul or Seoul if you are Korean, is the name of a fantastic Pixar film, 10/10 and I will watch it again. And Soul is the thing inside us, our heart, our love, our mind our ego, or our Id, though not ID. All you clever people can work it all out. And Biden did say he was fighting for the Soul of USA.

So a Soul is a big big thing, as big as Seoul, but within our head, or wherever it might be. Somebody once weighed a body to try and work out how many grams a Soul weighed. In The Good Detective the lead proves he has a soul, just watch it for yourselves. I’ve just stopped in mid-stream for to talk to my big daughter, so take 30 mins plus away, from my boast of writing a piece in a hour. We were talking about courses and the value v effort, and is it worth stressing for 95% + when you were getting 85% +. I said just do what makes you happy and quoted my own dad in his deep deep voice, “Michael, I have no Education, do what you like but do your best” and that’s all the advice I can give to anybody, not just my daughter. Do your best, and let the grades take care of themselves. My brothers went to Queens Oxford, and Downing Cambridge by the way. As you all know I’m just the dunce with 20 books to my name, which I share via my websites, so everybody can suffer everywhere.

As I got distracted by my big daughter the flow of the piece will change, but I will say this, it’s good for your Soul to talk to your kids, and good for theirs too. Giving them things is not as important as giving Time and Talking, love is a hug, not a Play Station. Perhaps Love is being sung as I talk to you, and that reminds all of us, that Love is the best thing for a soul. A smile can save a life, just as a hug, when hugs are allowed again, post Covid, makes all the difference. A shared joke, no matter how obscene does make all the difference, how do you think Security people and shift workers survive. It’s the humour or the brotherhood or sisterhood that keeps people going in the dark of the  night, I did do 14 years of nights after all. I did loads of Noon till 8pm shifts too, it made me more employable. Perhaps it’s my sense of humour that keeps me going now that a gang of conditions have hobbled my body, my sense of the ridiculous that keeps me smiling. Though pain attacks can be really really bad, and it would be very very easy to give, but no, I just bore you all about them instead. Make you all suffer, Ha.

Our soul is shaped by our Prayer, whatever Faith or none you may have. It is a great safety net when things are bad we remember what our mothers taught us, and we do learn our faith on our mothers’ lap. Some say God is Abba, not the band, but Daddy, so we have a childlike connection to our God. This means it is very close, for as we grow older we are more self-important, and forget daddy carrying us on his shoulders or in his arms. We should try and stay childlike in our closeness to our God.

18.47 now

The Birmingham K-Drama Story ©

By Michael Casey

 

Now Park worked in her dad’s store, she was Korean of course, every Korean is called Park. As every Indian is Singh, and Pakistani is Khan, and every English person is Smith, and yes Greeks earn a lot because they work so long and hard. Ok, I’m being simplistic, but I am a Simple Man, or is it simpleton? Park worked hard, she did have a Christian name and she was a Catholic, so her name was Mary, what else, just as every Irishman is Patrick.

 

Park, had friends, they were all daughters of all the take-aways, they met at Birmingham wholesale market buying onions in bulk. The “sisters” were always bulked up against the cold. So a nod from Park  to Singh and Khan and a look at Smith. Their dads wanted to marry them off and expand the business by marrying into bigger families. But the “sisters” said they could not marry till their “sisters” were married first, so this ploy kept them all safe and single.

 

Now Slim Simon was one of their best customers,  he’d turn up as regular as clockwork, after he’d been to a bar to see some music. Jazz, Folk, or Blues. No he didn’t travel everywhere, The Waterworks was Jazz, renamed to Bell and Pump for Folk, and Blue Notes for the Blues. It was stuck by the reservoir in a dodgy part of town, but Slim Simon was safe, because he was built like a safe, though he kept his cash in his socks just in case of muggers. Not that anybody dared try, he has a Judo badge on his lapel, and it’s not just a decoration. Slim Simon was always on a mat, he ran a Judo school, Black belt 4th Dan, and he wore braces too, to keep his trousers from sliding down his belly, he was a cuddly Winnie the Pooh, but deadlier.

 

So Mary would hear all about the music as she served the last customer, why you no married, she asked. Slim Simon explained, his wife had ran away with the double glazing salesman, so he took up Judo to manage his anger, and try not to think of Derek the salesman who was all front. Mary sighed, she’s a bitch, so that brought them closer. Singh her friend was getting pressurised to get married, so Khan and Mary suggested she pretended that Slim Simon was her boyfriend. Mary persuaded Slim Simon with the offer of more spring rolls, so the deed was done.

Slim Simon went to Singh’s place and played the part, and Singh would stroke his big strong hands over the cash register. Her parents were disgusted at first, but he seemed like a nice boy, so if she was happy they were happy. Now Slim Simon said to his best student, Pal, that he was saving a Indian  girl, so Pal said could he come and take a look. So after a Jazz night Pal was taken in toe to Singh’s place. Now Indian girls have the best eyes ever, just look and you will see. So when Pal saw Singh he sighed. And then when she smiled at he could not be denied. You see Pal was an Optician with 14 shops in the family. Later Singh confided, Pal is the one for me.

 

But her parents were convinced Slim Simon would be the one for the family. So a plan was hatched. Mary and Khan  would hide their identities and arrive at Singh’s and slap Slim Simon’s face hard. He’d be a cad, and a lowlife, not good enough for an Indian wife. Then Pal would arrive and save the day. Pal was a mere Black belt, no Dans yet.  So he’s stage fight Slim Simon, and save the day. Then he’d reveal he was an Optician, and it would be love at first sight.

 

So Slim Simon was swooning over the cash register at Singh, then first Mary Park arrived and slapped his right cheek, and just like in the Bible, he turned the other cheek only for Khan to arrive and slap that one even harder. Then on Q Pal would arrive to dispense with the bounder, never trust a white guy,  yes stereotypical. So Pal and Slim Simon threw each other about, before Slim Simon was left in a rubbish bin, appropriate enough.

 

Singh’s family applauded, Pal was in, and Slim was out. And when they heard he had 14 Optician shops, they soon persuaded their daughter to see sense. As for Slim Simon, he crawled out of the way, and made a mental note to get Pal to take a grading, first Dan coming soon. And if I race to the conclusion, Singh and Pal’s first child just had to be called Dan. But for the moment Mary sneaked Slim Simon away in her car, Khan waved them good night as she jogged home chuckling.

 

Now Mary could see that Slim Simon was a great man, well he was literally, and yes he was divorced, but he didn’t marry in a church, so maybe an annulment and she’d have him as her man. Mary Parked her car and stroked his face, then kissed it better in slow motion for half an  hour, it is a Kdrama in Birmingham after all. Slim Simon couldn’t  visit Singh’s any more, he’d been thrown out the door, so he went to Park’s twice as much. He taught her a few throws and more, but he always caught her, before she hit the floor, again in slow motion, it is Kdrama in Birmingham like I said before.

 

Singh soon got engaged and the wedding would be quite a spectacle, so Mary took Slim Simon around to the shop to explain. So it was all a trick, yes they confessed. But now not one bride, but two, two for the price of one, like any take-away special, or the Abba song. But what of Khan? Well she fell for the Uber delivery driver, take me away take away. I did mention Smith at the market, what about him, he was Gay, but he loved dressing up for Weddings, so he was delighted to be invited, not once, or twice but thrice. Like three coins in a fountain, and if ever you’ve been to the Trevi Fountain, if you throw a coin you can make a wish. Smith did, and now at the 3rd time of asking, at the third wedding, he met the man for him, a contractor, a drainage contractor. So the pair of them were forever gushing and laughing like drains, you see True Love Conquers All.

 

But what of Mary Park? Yes, she married Slim Simon and had 4 kids and formed a Kpop band, Faith, Hope and Charity were their names, the 4th was an extra surprize, a boy they called Julian. Just as this writer’s mother always said name a boy after her, Julia becomes Julian  if ever Mary had a boy child. Just like the song, by Boney M, Mary’s Boy Child, Julian.

 

Cup of tea Diner ©

By Michael Casey

Now as you may remember Grannie Smith  saved a Seal, no she wasn’t a conservationist like Sir David Attenborough, the military kind of seal. So when she announced she was taking a trip to see Oklahoma in Oklahoma, Howard Keel was such a great singer in the film, a couple of  real Seals said they’d tag along to make sure she’d be safe. She was very old by now. Grannie Smith was proud so they went along with her, but not by her side, just a knife throw away, she was still an independent lady.

 

Grannie Smith still enjoyed English tea, so she was pleased when she saw it advertised as a novelty in the Diner. So she climbed the steps gingerly and sat ready for her tea. Now obviously MayLi in the dinner got a kick out of serving English tea to an English lady, and yes as Grannie Smith grew even older she looked more and more like the Queen of England. MayLi looked on as Grannie Smith tasted her brew, but it wasn’t quiet right. Don’t worry we can fix it said Grannie Smith, so she went behind the counter and warmed the pot, and do what she did herself instinctively.

 

MayLi recorded everything on her iPhone, she didn’t want to miss a trick. And then the two of them sat down and had tea. Two Seal shadows stepped forward and shared the pot, pot of tea that is, nothing naughty. And it was perfect. Now MayLi put this on her social media, TicToc, Weibo and even Facebook. The next day there was a crowd 100 strong. You see in Oklahoma, it always is a beautiful morning, and to have the Queen of England too, it really was their cup of tea.

 

Grannie Smith went to the theatre to see Oklahoma in Oklahoma, and when she arrived the crowd hushed, the Queen of England was there to see the show. Afterwards she went to the diner, MayLi was speaking excitedly, one of the Seals had so much  sex appeal, and she was still single and so was he. She had read it all in the tea leaves, something big was gonna happen. And the Seal was big, very big. Only she had read the leaves wrong. A developer had sent her a notice, he was going to build a  sky scraper and the diner was in the way, that was the big thing, not  the Seal.

 

So MayLi cried into her leaves, Grannie Smith said don’t worry, it’s an ill wind that blows no good, and then one of the Seals farted. So they all laughed. They opened the door to let the breeze in, and who show breeze in through the door. Only 2 Englishmen not in New York, but in Oklahoma, they had seen the sign and wanted a cuppa. They sat  and had tea, why the glum faces. MayLi  showed the notice, it had a picture on it of the new building planned. The two Englishmen laughed and threw back their heads, at this point the Seals moved forward fast, they knew who they were. Were they English assassins after Grannie Smith. No they knew them, you see the Englishmen were Bona Architects from Pinner, Julian and Sandy. And in fact they had saved those two Seal’s lives.

 

They hadn’t recognised them for a moment but blow me timbers, Julian and Sandy were also mountain climbers,  they had met up the Eiger, they had all saved each other as they were climbing up the mountain. Anything Clint Eastwood can do, we can do better.  So in a moment old friends were so happy, only MayLi was not. Grannie Smith looked on, Julian and Sandy looked at the picture. You know we could knock up a building quick, and it would look so much better, and you know Jules, if we did it our way the diner could stay.

 

So borrowing MayLi’s lipstick, Julian and Sandy drew a picture of what they could build and better, and  the diner would stay. Again MayLi filmed it, Grannie Smith spoke directly to the iPhone, it was like the real Queen’s Christmas broadcast. And here is Julian and Sandy’s counter proposal, literally drawn in lipstick, in war paint on the counter. And when Julian and Sandy spoke in such posh posh English how could the developer refuse. And yes it was a question not of Three coins in a Fountain, but  Three Queens in a diner, with Seals applauding. Bona Architects from Pinner were Gay, and they could climb any mountain, you go ask the Seals if you don’t believe.

 

This design was again put online, it was a hit, a very big hit, Julian said to Sandy, it’s huge, very huge, you just look at the ratings. And what exactly was the design. It was a feather, like a Red Indian’s feather, with the diner at the base, in fact there would be 4 diners, so MayLi would have to expand, but she had her eyes on a Seal, so expand away she would. As for the construction workers,  well they are Red Indians anyway, so  they’d all flock, flock a lot, to come and build a feather.

 

Now it takes a while for drafts, ask any soldier, to be ready so Julian and Sandy drafted away. And protective glass was placed around the diner,  as for Jules and Sandy they had new jumpers knitted. The jumpers they wore when they went  climbing,  but also the design  of the building was woven on the front, on the back 1 for Julian and 2 for Sandy. This is my building, was on display, and 1 and 2 because it takes two to tango.

 

Once the steelwork was to begin, Julian and Sandy joined the Indians, they were mountain climbers after all, the Red Indians had misgivings. But when Julian and Sandy were way up high they danced and pranced like ballet dancers, with1 and 2 on their backs. The Red Indians were impressed, they may be English but the way they worked the iron, was so impressive. They did iron all their own clothes too, but that’s another matter. All this Joy, all this Sorrow, John Denver sung at 300 feet, the Red Indians did like a bit of music while they worked. But as the words All this Sorrow rung out, a Red Indian fell, and he would not have seen tomorrow. But Julian dived and grabbed him by the ankle, and Sandy dived too getting the other ankle.  Their reactions were like lightning, just as they were on the Eiger, nobody dies, nobody dies. Besides as Julian said to Sandy afterwards when the excitement was over. I have special surprize for our Red Indians. You see he had Indian curry from a curry house owned by a stray Birmingham England man bused in from 40 miles away. Vindaloo will do, and pork scratchings, and a barrel of Banks bitter.

 

The Red Indians loved the Vindaloo, and MayLi gave them tea too. As for the curry house 40 miles away, he was swamped with Red Indians, Red Indians eating Indian too. When the building was finished Granny Smith opened it, along with the 3 new replica diners, all the way from China. Julia  looked at Sandy and Sandy looked at Julian, they were wearing matching jumpers with the design on. Let’s lose our virginity, the Oklahoma crowd was confused. Then the pair of Bona Architects from Pinner sprinted towards the building, they were going to free climb it, why because it was there as any mountain climber will tell you.

 

Normally when they get to the top, well they, well they, but this was Oklahoma not Pinner, so waiting Seals strapped parachutes to them.  Then they jumped and Julian and Sandy landed on the diner, they needed a cuppa after all their efforts, they are English after all.

 

Teaching You All That I Know ©

        By

Michael Casey

 

Well first of all, I don’t know how to use Word, my copy seems to have gone funny, but I don’t exactly know how to fix it. So while you mock me I’ll teach you all that I know. It’ll take an hour maybe to write this, and 5 mins for you to read it. Though as I always say, I talk I don’t write, that’s why there is spit on the paper or rather the screen. So gather your friends around and then you can skip all those classes and get to my level, of stupidity. Yes I know what my level is, and Education does not stop when you leave school, even if it is Medical school, and yes I can hear the card at the back of the class say I’m a specimen.

 

Yes,  I’m a self-taught writer, I’ll even go as far as to say it cannot be taught, not unless you are an American and you want to waste 4 years, and then are exactly the same as the other 200 Liberal Arts students, who just cannot write. See I’ve butchered you all before I even start. If you’ve Googled me, I did spend 20 years Listening to BBC Radio 4, the best speech radio station in the world. And this was before I picked up a pen, I did read by the yard too, and watch films galore. Being in a large family with lodgers making it larger too, helped the process. Environment does motive and makes you remember, not unless you are a  dullard, if I quote Kim who runs the Korean takeaway,  it’s his cousin Ku,  who guards President Biden now by the way. Then it still took me a year to learn  how to do it. I knew I was good enough when my 1988 play Shoplife was accepted for the stage, and yes it wasn’t finally produced. Would you invest £2,000,000 in today’s money in a new piece, or a Standard? So I’ve been writing for over 33 years now.

 

Which brings me to the first thing to “teach” you. The Five Ps as presenters call them. Practice Prevents Piss Poor Performance. As simple and as easy as that. I was sent on a Presenting course just before Easter 1998. It took 2 days and my company paid, to help prepare me for the future, being made redundant. Here’s all I learnt. Just empty your pockets on a table. Then speak for 1 minute on whatever you pick up first. Simple easy. Now if you have a few friends around  to mock you, and try it for themselves that is called a learning situation. Take turns, pick a different object and gieve it a try. You then expand to 2 minutes talk on whatever object has been removed from your pocket or anybody else’s pocket. Repeat with a lunch break and beer.Then 5 mins talk, you’ll give 15 minutes sniggering time to prepare.

 

The next day I had to talk for 15mins, which was optimum time if you remember what JFK was supposed to have said. Anything should be explainable in 15 mins. Ok, so you all get it? Me, when it was my 15 minutes of fame, I had everybody laughing, I did want to learn for comic reasons after all.  I told everybody about my Paris misadventure, which involved food poisoning, and avec vous des asparin de bas prix, and I ended up with asparin tampone, which means in a tube, but my French was not up to it, so I was expection string.

 

So I had mastered Speaking, Presenting, Teaching. To prove it I then went on holiday to Pilsner Czech the home of lager. There I presented for 90 mins off the cuff, to 20 English students. So the training worked. When I got back to StatsMR I wrote it all up as my Czech Story, and the whole company realised Michael can Write. So there you go, as Jon the Hippy would say. By the way StatsMR did Market Research into alcohol sales, and I was born in the shadow of a brewery.

 

Later in my life I spent 3 years at Crown Plaza Nec a 4 star deluxe business hotel, I nuts have had 100,000 min conversations. So I polished my speaking skills and making people laugh, or stand up skills. Later still in my life I was an Esol English Teacher in an Islamic School. Did I mention Excellent, Excellent and Exemplary on my external assessment. So there you go. But the thing is if I can do it then so can you.

 

Now I’m going to teach you Logic next. Ok, if you are in a big family what is it like? Overwhelming? We let my small sister push Jean the cat out the way and eat kittycat. We opened the corner cupboard where  the jumpers lived and put every single on her. She could put her arms down as she had too many jumpers on, she was 6 of 6 after all. She was bright red with10 jumpers on when mum came home from shopping and told us off. You’ll kill the child she screamed in her Kerry accent, though we could only hear it on the phone, that’s 20 years later when we actually had a phone. Though  this misadventure did not stop us from folding the sister up and putting on a shelf in a wardrobe and clicking close the door, and struggling to open the door up again. I did something similar to Neil at work maybe 30 years later, the temptation was just too much, if I hide here then jump out. So I locked him in.

 

I’ve digressed but I’ve just taught you that if you REMEMBER then you have material for stories later on, maybe nearly 60 years later on. It just depends do you have a memory, or have you tried to blot out everything. I seem to have total recall for stories, anything that does not interest me justy won’t go in. Otherwise with my 42 years exposure to computers I should have been more than I was. So shall I finally give you that  nougat  or is it nugget, whichever is more palatable, this is all you need to know, save that £40,000 in University fees, and start a business instead.

 

Here it is, the 5 Ws Who What Where When Why. If you apply that to every situation, then you’ll be a Detective, or you’ve grown up in a big family, with your eyes wide open. If you take me, Michael Casey as an example, ok a very  battered ,cheap and tacky, left  over from the pound store example. Then you can ask Who is Michael Casey, What is Michael Casey, Where is Michael Casey, When is Michael Casey, and Why is Michael Casey. You have just Spocked me, and everything is revealed, a bit like opening a  box of chocolates, or undressing me, either to whip me, or to cover me in ice cream and lick it off, prior to breeding with me.

 

Ok, did you just puke, just put your head between your legs and breath deeply, was that a shock? Have you screamed and  locked yourself in the bathroom. Or are you laughing, and do you want to know me, but not biblically? I hope you are laughing, Michael Casey the fat silver haired writer in shades from Birmingham, is how you Google me,  or Blacklist me. If you use the tools the 5Ps and the 5Ws, that will make your life a box of chocolates. Or maybe you want to undress me, please don’t whip me, not unless it’s whipped cream ice cream.

 

 


 

 

 

 

 

 

 


No comments:

Phoney War

Humour Writing by the fat silver haired writer in shades from Birmingham England read in 167 countries so far https://www.amazon.co.uk/Micha...