What are your kids to you?

What are your kids to you?

By Michael Casey

My small daughter always gives me a hug and a kiss before she goes to bed. She’s 11 now, her bigger sister just blows a kiss to me, she’s 13, so too gig to give hugs, but I treasure this kisses. My small daughter has also taken up the anthem we had when I was a child 45 years ago, when I was her age.  “Nighty, nighty” she recites and waits for me to reply “Pyjamas, pyjamas.” It’s very simple and  silly, but now it will be passed down the generations.

It would have been my dad’s Birthday today, 11^th November, so I smile and thing back and think forward. At the end of this century my daughter’s grandchildren will be saying “Nighty, nighty” and waiting for “Pyjamas, pyjamas.” We have Chinese and Irish blood in the family now, what  more will be added to the mix only time will tell.

We were watching the show on tv about compulsive cleaners and how they are matched with the really really dirty hoarders. Tonight they cleared a children’s bedroom, it made us smile. If they had a Chinese mum they would never ever get away with having a tip for a bedroom. Bad habits have to be broken and in fact they should never be allowed to begin.

I was talking to my small daughter about her reading and did the other kids at school read as much as her. She is part bookworm. They don’t have the time was her reply, too much Xbox and computer stuff, no time for reading. Parents have to switch these toys off and even switch the family tv off, and make their kids read. My small daughter reads 100pages a day in the main. Which is a lot, even if you consider the fact that children’s books have less words per page than a regular book. So if she can do it, why can’t every parent do the same?

Making hot chocolate for my girls, which has to be made in the correct mugs, the cat with the mouse on its head is my small daughter’s mug, the princess mug for my other princess. Simple little things while they are doing homework or just reading, dad keeps them watered while they are studying.

Kids need things, like school shoes or school blouses or just “things” so as a dad you have to go online to seek out what they need, and what their hearts’ desire. Then you say it’s a race to see if this will arrive before that. Online shopping is easy, you end up knowing all the couriers. We have a mum courier who fits in her work between the school-runs, she works for all the couriers.

When this or that arrives your daughters will give you a hug, she has got what she needs, or a bit of extra treasure. Kids also make noise, but the alternative would be a quiet house, kids are a heartbeat to a home, just as a grandfather clock is.

 At the moment one daughter is learning all about the heart, coinciding with me suddenly and unexpectedly getting a bit of angina. The bigger daughter is thinking about GCSE choices, she has a Science brain like her cousin, my generation had Arts brains, so I cannot really help her on these subjects. And where did the science come from? Well grannie was the bus company accountant in Shanghai, and my wife has a bio-chemistry degree.

As for my small daughter, she just loves David Attenborough, and wants to be an animal biologist whatever that it. She just adores his voice, and Barry White’s voice too. So this is a snapshot of what my kids are like, I just hope I am ½ as good a dad as my dad was to me, Happy Birthday dad.

Follow Me, I'm Your Leader

Follow Me, I’m Your Leader ©

By Michael Casey

I always knew I’d be a leader, it was my destiny, I had to be what was ordained, so I seized the opportunity with both hands. People are fickle, so why no exploit it. I got in on the ground floor when mobiles first appeared, they were like a brick with a wire attached.

I had shares in Apple, the Beatles one, but I quickly dumped them and got the core value ones, the Tech ones. If people wanted to follow me they had to buy a phone, it was their uniform, so they could all appear so uniform and follow me. I made a killing with the shares and the concession stores. They were giving me money to have the uniform, or rather the phone, then they were part of the hip and groovy set, followers of me.

Who am I , no not Denny Crane, but Kevin H.P. Twerp. I added the H.P. it read better, as far as Americans were concerned, I also liked the sauce which started in Birmingham, as did I. Though nobody knew that, I was posh Scottish from Edinburgh, that’s what my Wiki page said. And everybody believes Wiki, and Julian Assange.

So once I had followers what did I do with them? I fleeced them of course, they had to attend my induction courses, which cost 1000 Dollars a pop, or 1000 Euros or 1000 pounds, it made the accounts easier to fiddle if I kept the 1000 unit.

They had to spent 10hours at each induction, there were 3 of course, and they cost 1000 for each. It is hard being a leader so the money paid for my 5 star stays all over the world, and the property portfolio in Malta. Malta is nice so that’s where I hide my money.

What happens at the induction? Nobody knows, the bottled water, and it does have to be bottled water for my followers. The bottled water was 10pounds/dollars/euros a bottle. The water having been laced with something, I cannot say what but it does make the 10 hours go faster, and their brains are blank afterwards. But they do worship the ground I walk on.

Then they have to dress like me, I did a deal with a haut-couture  fashion house, I got shares too, so my followers do look good. Just like me, why have an unwashed rabble in Tshirts when they can wear designer clothes, and look so nice.

I had a deal with a perfume house too, in fact I created the perfume. So my followers look good and smell even better.  A long way away from eau de Jeyes Fluid in my caretaker days when I had to clean the bogs. Though it did motivate me to dream up my pompous vacuous Cult, as my detractors call it, or did I mishear them?

I tour, big stadia, just like Alice Cooper and U2, though I don’t pay as much tax as them, in fact none at all. It’s worth investing in a corrupt accountant, he’s worth his weight in gold. He doubles as my chauffeur, I don’t want to ruin my manicure on any steering wheel. Besides I can watch him from the back seat of our Rolls Royce, specially made of course, only 5 in the world. I have one on every continent; I have to stay unique after all.

It can be boring looking at spread sheets, 4.79billion dollars or is it pounds now? That’s my ill-gotten gains, my accountant  cum chauffeur is demanding 20million as his share, the cheek of it. 20 million is more than what I paid for a new marina in Malta, near the Hilton. I said I’d give him 15, he accepted, I threatened to blackmail him, it’s always good to have a safety deposit box.

What’s happening, why am I in this prison cell, and why am I dressed in cheap women’s clothing, not even designer. I should have never have drunk that bottled water.

this is me in Hotel Achat Offenbach outside Frankfurt great hotel, we were upgraded to a suite 2008 it was

Alistair Cooke

NOVEMBER 4TH, 2014 21:01

Alistaire Cook

By michaelgcasey

I’m a happy bunny. go to the works, a uk cheap book shop.
www.theworks.co.uk  I found Alistaire Cook’s Letter from America and Alistaire Cook’s America for 9quid. A bargain. 800 pages of high quality journalism . And its 6 quid cheaper than Amazon. I listened to some of his stuff as a child and growing up. He was writing and recording for 60years. When he died aged 90 odd, somebody stole his body to sell off some body parts. Yes really I’m not making it up. SO go buy his books. And if you enter REINDEER you get free delivery. After you have read all his stuff, you can read mine. A postcard from Birmingham if you like.

p.s.Telegraph Readers know about him already, I put this on my google+ page, yes I’m annoying folks there now. 10708 views in a matter of weeks, I have no idea why either. I was thinking of putting my 200 audio letters on Spotify, if Taylor Swift has left perhaps I can fill the vacuum

Halloween Horrors

Halloween Horrors ©

By Michael Casey

There was a knock at the door at 9.30pm, while we were watching the Blacklist. Its Halloween tonight and it’s so dark outside now that the clocks have gone backwards for the winter. So just for fun I sneaked to our front door and screamed “DEVIL” and went away laughing, back to the Blacklist on TV.

Only the knocking returned but I ignored it. Our next door neighbour had but up a welcoming Halloween balloon, so that could have attracted trick or treaters.  My girls had a look out the window and think they saw a man with a parcel getting into a van. I was only told this after the van drove off.

I am waiting for a parcel, so was the trick on me. When roused from the Blacklist I saw the van stop at the end of our street and a man get out and have a fag. Smoking to steady his nerves perhaps. Parcel delivery drivers don’t deliver at 9.30pm in the dark on Halloween do they? A parcel man would stick a note through my door. Not unless he was a witch or warlock moonlighting.

I finished watching the Blacklist then I decided to have my own Halloween prank. I drew an evil face on my next door neighbour’s balloon. She did say she was going to be a witch in the woods tonight, so I wonder will the face on the balloon scare her.

If you hear a blood curdling scream in the middle of the night, it must be my next door neighbour.

this is my writer's poser's pose 

More Black Humour

following on the black humour theme. today I bought my girls some clothes and a lot of books. I told them its their Christmas present. And their Chinese New Year present too. They are 1/2 Chinese after all. Then it gave me an idea for a story, not yet written. It would be about a hypochondriac who keeps on thinking he has this disease or that disease so spoils his children, each time he thinks he's contracted this or that new disease. So you can imagine in the school playground the kids saying, I got this new top because my dad has piles, or I got these new shoes because my dad's arthritis got worse. Or dad had bad tooth ache so he bought me new boots, etc etc I may very well write this story down. Though I should say I really do have a few maladies, but laughter is the best medicine.

200 UP

Today I've recorded a few more stories. So now I have recorded 200 of my shorts, which is less that 20% of my output. I've written more stories than the Brothers Grimm, twice as many, though some card might say my stories are grimm, ha ha ha, they will laugh to themselves.

Anyways as I recorded more today I did remember that a few days ago a blind guy was looking for a reader, so perhaps I should send him my 1st 200 stories to listen to. As for the rest of you www.michaelgcasey,typepad.com has 50 or so samples. So far 10 hours plus of recorded material.

Todays recordings included the piece below.

Government Dating Agency May 31, '11 10:34 AM
Fill in E784/52 and your new spouse will be ready(c)
by
Michael Casey
I saw somewhere that the Government would be involved with marriage. So that set me thinking.
Fill in form E784/52 and your new spouse will be ready.
Just as stupid as a census form would be the Government provided spouse, all you do is fill in the
form.
You fill in sections stating what kind of sex life is required, variety and kind and frequency.
You fill in sections stating what kind of faith is required, though nowadays "None" would be the
most common.
Sections for what kind of intellect required.
What kind of hair colour, and type, soft or shiny.
Height requirements would be catered for too.
Tall dark and handsome, or very curvy with a twinkle in their eyes. Eye colour would also be on the
list.
The form would go on for three pages and has to be filled out in triplicate. Native language
requirements or preferences would also be listed.
It could take hours to fill in the form, but once completed, the Government guarantees perfection
and a till death do you part guarantee.
With the government in charge of our mating, nothing can go wrong. Only on the way down in the
lift its love at first sight as you see somebody for the first time. Can it be true can it be really true.
You were made for me and I was made for you.

Hotel Achat Offenbach Frankfurt Germany 2008

Its an ill wind that blows no good

They say its an ill wind that blows no good. Today 24 hours before my pain killing injection the hospital rung to cancel it. Its nearly 6 months since my 2nd hip started to hurt, now I could be waiting another month. So that's the ill wind. Mind you there's a storm due to hit Birmingham and UK big time in the morning, so I suppose I won't be drenched as I won't have to go out in the rain. Though as I'm not going to hospital I'll be doing my usual school run instead, so I will be drenched but slightly less so. Which reminds me how did I meet my wife, one reason was because she got food poisoning and missed her flight to Germany, so she came to Birmingham instead. Such is Love and Fate and etc



some photos to amuse you all

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