The Greatest Story Ever Told

The Greatest Story Ever Told ©

By Michael Casey

I did not intend writing this now, right now 3am on 4^th Feb2017, but time and tide waits for no man, and if you cannot sleep you may as well get up and write a story.  This one will be 960 or so, Google Blogger keeps a tally, I do not. I had been thinking how to celebrate my 1,000,000^th word, the official kind of one, or rather 1,000,000^th one. I could get all pretentious, but as you know I abhor pretention.

You think shall I do a bit of comedy, or pathos, or my usual mix of all kinds of everything. I did have an idea to take this piece this way or that way, but now as I’ve got up at 3am I’m deciding to go another way entirely. Yesterday was a strange day as I had a lot of pain and could not sleep, then when I got up I got an unexpected email from the witch, which is the pet name I have for the wife, though she calls me Panzi which I thought was fat fat  boy, but in fact means PIG, my bilingual daughters finally told me. 

Anyway the witch summoned me to attend a viewing on a house that popped up last night on www.rightmove.co.uk , it was my turn to take first look and if I liked it then all the family would attend. Simple, if you’ve had a good night’s sleep, but if you have not and altogether it’s a 3mile round trip up hill in the cold. Then that is different. I could tell before I entered the house that it would not suit us, and I was proved right, I did console the owner by telling him that it would sell in a week. Our area is hot at the moment and they do sell that quickly.

I had a rest when I got home and wrote Twitter Me I want to be Famous and I was pleased with the result.  How it normally works is that I write something and then I read it back aloud to the girls asking them their opinion. They always say they are being tortured and will ring the Hague and ask them to try me for war crimes to their ears. Or they just lie and say another fantastic piece of Literature dad, one day we will inherit your money, the sooner the better too.

The normal family banter, I hope. I then post my piece to Wordpress and Blogger before doing my security. I was in a computer room nearly 40 years ago so I know about backups, believe me I do. DSC it was called then. Later on I can see who in the world is reading my stuff, I had India today, I think it may have been Kumar who sent me an email today, which I bounced back with my Elevator Ad. I sometimes add my photo in the orange polo where I look like a drunk. 

Unfortunately my inline photo thing does not work anymore, but at least they get an Elevator Ad as a punishment for sending me a SEO advert of theirs.

My words go far and wide maybe 20 countries scattered everywhere, which proves to me that my English via Comedy idea would work. So Angel investors do get in touch. I could teach Chinese billionairesses English too, I was an Esol teacher in the past, and I did teach my wife English.

But back to the writing every story is a fresh page, a fresh start, I can try this or I can try that. Satire or my version of in as in the Twitter me story is very easy. I prefer more thoughtful stuff, that is thoughtful for me. Ok I’m a pig but I wear lipstick, my wife does call me Panzi after all.

You can come up with words that are so really really touching, such as in The Dead and The Living, or in Let My Tears be my Words. Or the true story Padre Pio and Me, then some may say I’m a conduit, I can barely spell the word, but it’s too easy to say I’m not the writer, it’s a Gift. 20 years of listening to BBC Radio4 speech radio and then writing for 30 years, so 50 years in total, this what a Gift is.

I suppose the greatest Gift we all get is our parents, the Love they pour into us, my mother has not stopped pouring, she’s in charge of the tea in Heaven, and dad has found a hot spot where he can warm himself, as he was in a steel works for 40 years. He could never end up in Hell, as it would have felt cold for him, besides Charity was running through him, and  as your know Faith, Hope is always followed by Charity.

Twitter Me I want to Famous

Friday, 3 February 2017

Twitter Me I want to Be Famous

Twitter Me I Want to Be Famous ©

By Michael Casey

I just had a scan of the newspapers and what you notice most of all are people selling their Soul in an attempt to be famous. Why do people want to be 3^rd rate Z List celebrities, Andy Warhol must be cursing his luck in Heaven as everybody crowds the place out, how can he do Cloud Art with the Angels if the place is overcrowded with the newly dead 3^rd rate Z listers. If you remember  your Bettlejuice  Heaven’s waiting room is overcrowded with people like that.

So why do people want this drug so much? Am I one of them? In my case I only want my words to be famous, I have no desire to sell my soul. Look at my chest I don’t wear a vest, look at my legs they go right up to my bum. Look at my bum I’ve been injected with a barrel full of oil to make my bum so large it almost explodes, just make sure you are not standing directly behind me.

Look at the notches on my bedpost I’ve slept with 1000 men or was it women I cannot tell the difference, because I am straight/gay/bio whatever, or was it a robot in the bed, enough said. Westworld. And on it goes, does anybody care or is it just so very very boring. The sexual revolution was back in the 1960s, so now 50 years on to hear it all over again as if this generation were the 1^st to discover what was underneath the undergarments, is so very very BORING.

Celebrities are famous for being famous, everybody is a HERO now, I put 5000 paperclips up my nose and I am in the Guinness book of records. My brother put 7000 up his, up his, I can say but I won’t say, anyway he is in the adult version of the Guinness book of records. It’s called the Guinness with Whisky chaser book of records, with cross eyes.

People do stupid things to chase fame, then they put it on Twitter or Facebook. Thousands of likes and repeats or whatever it is called follow this, until you have 1,000,000 likes for a man who can fart fire and light a candle on a birthday cake 10 feet away. And of course in real life he is a fireman, so that makes it more interesting and his mates hose him down every time, so they can share his fame.
Hashtag #fartingfiremanlightsbirthdaycake is an explosive hashtag, and spreads like wildfire.

Then the next week obviously he dies while at work saving a life of a child. So his Twitter goes wild and his Facebook has a flaming bum with smoke spelling the work RIP rising from his behind. Yes this really is the level we have reached. People just want to be famous, now more than ever. Jade Goody would no doubt agree with me, may she rest in peace.

So why the need to be famous or all over Twitter and Facebook. Is it a weakness in the human spirit, Trivia being more important that Real Life. If people live in that Bubble where Kylie being cheated on by her toyboy is more important than the Manchester United results you have to wonder what is going on in the world.

Now I just threw in the line about Man U to see what reaction I’d get from you the reader, in India or Russia or USA or even here in UK, you lot are a scattered group, my readers. Maybe you should have a Tee shirt with michaelgcasey is the FAT Birmingham writer. Then you know what would happen, some little Indian guy in Calcutta would make a fortune in Tee shirts.

He could have  a 2^nd Tee with  MichaelGCasey Calcutta is the Last Word, and when people asked him what it meant he’d say it’s the last word in   The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker, whatever that is.

Me I wouldn’t get a dime from it. He would storm Twitter and Facebook, he would be the face of Michael Casey the Fat Birmingham Writer, even though he’d be a little Indian and I’m the large fat silver haired guy who looks like Santa after a visit to rehab to remove all the HO HO HOs from my wherever they are.

Such is fame, the irony is my best friend is a little Indian guy from Calcutta, who has a PhD in Biochemistry, with his help I no longer fart fire. And on that note I’ll have a toilet break.

Thank you Russia and France for being big readers

Glad Russia and France stopped by to read my stuff. All the other countries are most welcome too.

feel  free to buy a book on Amazon worldwide


https://www.amazon.com/Michael-Casey/e/B00571G0YC

I'm waiting for a pain killer to kick in before I go to bed, tonight its chest pain, but it could be anywhere else on my body. And yes I know your grannie in Anytown has far more pain, but like I said its not a competition. 4 years ago I had none of this.

https://michaelcaseyfrombirminghamengland.blogspot.co.uk/   is my backdoor which has  a ton of stuff on.

I have written 140 pages or 58,488 words of my next book so far.

It will be called 2018 New Horizons, but it'll be Christmas 2018 before I launch it as my 13th book, like I said before I never expected to write so many, there were only 4  Evangelists after all.

My back door will close suddenly, once Donald Trump finishes reading it, or Putin. I'll accept readers from anyplace anywhere. The actual 1,000,000 th  actual word is in  2018 New Horizons, there will be no prize for working out what it will be.

In The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker the final word was chosen and it was Calcutta, if you read that book then you will know why.

That's all for tonight. Hope you all like my selection of silly photos that I post with my stories
I DETEST horrid posed photos. I still need a lottery win or you all to buy a ton of books then I can have a nice family home, and a Labrador called Camembert, but God is Good as my mum used to say, So I never give up Hope.

Michael

p.s. I never use a dictionary, what hits the page stays on the page, Jackson Pollock inspired me

Perfect Press Coverage

Perfect Press Coverage ©

By Michael Casey

I was going to call this Perfect Press Person, but that would have been too much alliteration, perfect for school teachers perhaps and their exam taking students, or bloody bastards as they are illiterately called in the Staff Room. It was just a thought, you see I’ve been watching a few press conferences on tv lately, as we all have, and one guy stands out, the problem is though that he sounds like a Cartoon.

He knows who he is and if I were to tell you his name I would immediately insert my opinion into all your brains, and you would never get it out again. You know like the Emperor’s New Clothes, once mentioned there is no turning back. If you say Michael Casey looks like George Clooney immediately you will always see me instead of him, though my wife says I look more like Huw Edwards the BBC news reader. I am a better looking than the real George Clooney, you can only tell us apart by the coffee,  I drink Kenco Rappor instant with semi skimmed milk, no sugar.

As for this press person, he really does sound like a cartoon, not like Officer Dibble more like a Wacky Races character, I cannot remember which one exactly as Peppa Pig has overtaken our telly. Listen to his voice next time he’s on tv, and he is on most days, and close your eyes as he speaks, then the realisation will overcome you like a wave on a beach.

What he says is like a WWW Wrestler hammering you into the canvas, but the voice his voice is pure cartoon voice. Which means he cannot be taken seriously, well not by me at any rate. Einstein looked stupid but was 50 years ahead of his time, but this cartoon will always be a cartoon for me.

Now look at the wordcount I haven’t even started and 327 words are on the clock, if only I were paid by the word, you get quality too, but I am a word count, or have a counter in the corner so as I pause for a drink I notice how many words there are and I think its write to share it with you. By the way write was right in the last sentence, I thought it might amuse the writers out there as I talk to you. 

Sometimes I make mistakes with sound alike words because I’m going too fast for my fingers to keep up with my brain, as you know we think 4 times faster than we speak, and maybe 8 times faster than we type.

Which brings me to my topic in hand, and by the way Ronnie Corbett and Joyce Grenfell seem to have permeated my writing style or rather talking to you style, they are worth a Google. Where was I, yes, bathroom break.

Now a press release is just that, you are releasing information to the press in the hope that they will give favourable coverage to your product or company. Nobody releases a press release hoping to sabotage their own product. Though we all remember Ratner who really did shoot himself in the head by saying his Jewellery was so cheap because it was crap, so all his customers decided if he thought that why should they buy it.  

A successful press launch involves alcohol, an average person drinks so much, for a press launch multiply that by 5, per person. Journalists like to wet their whistle, they need spit to help them get their pencils ready to write in their notebooks. There was once a journalist who did not drink, he was dispatched to America and ended up in Salt Lake City, married 3 times they say, simultaneously, and had 19 children. He would have ran for President only he was not born in the country.

At press launches there are freebies, goodie bags of alcohol and glossy literature. The glossy literature goes straight in the bin, it’s so heavy to carry after all, you have to make space for the 2 bottles of cheap, 50 quid a bottle champagne. They say many a baby is conceived in a bottle, I am in fact Charles Dickens’ son, or is it Will Shakespeare’s, some pub anyway.

So I think you all have gotten the picture about press releases and press launches, obvious the gentlemen and ladies of the press will say I’m pushing a stereotype. All I will say is that in Tears for A Butcher, which needs a journalist’s copy typist to help me finish it, the climax does involve a pub, the editors scream down the phone, buy the pub, so that the press pack can stay close to the hospital where a life and death situation is happening.

That pub is the Windmill, and this has been a glimpse into the Windmills of my Mind, for the priest from the church next to that pub used to call me Sancho Panza, a fat guy on a donkey. Or am I  really George Clooney?

 p.s. I always have silly photos to make me outstanding in my field, 500 years of farmers after all

There is only one michaelgcasey its me in BIRMINGHAM beware of others with same name

There is only one michaelgcasey its me in BIRMINGHAM beware of others with same name

 https://www.amazon.com/MichaelCasey/e/B00571G0YC

found my old leather jacket from 1999 when I was in Barcelona

Small Things Big Ideas

Small Things Big Ideas ©

By Michael Casey

I thought I’d better write something new today even though I’m a bit tired, then I looked at an old bucket and I was inspired. Yes, my muse is an old bucket, Picasso and famous writers had dusty maiden, me I have an old bucket. So today before the girls get back from choir practice I’m going to talk about how things inspire us.

As a child I had a big imagination, no change there, me and DmC used to use a paperclip and it was a car for the Leprechauns, we drove their car through the grooves of the brickworks, you know the mortar between the bricks. We were very happy to have Leprechauns even though we didn’t even have a plastic car for them to sit in, all we had was a paperclip.

This illustrates how we and children generally can use anything they find to create an imaginary land with all kinds of everything used to create structures. A discarded cola can is used to represent The Rotunda in Birmingham, which happens to look like a cola can in reality. A fag packet can become a block of flats, a shoe box a shopping centre. An apple can become a recording studio and so on.

When you grow up you become an architect and your ideas are seen as revolutionary, because you have a giant apple as a fresh produce market, a giant book is a book shop and a giant phone, the old style phone is the new  Apple headquarters, with a slice cut out to allow light and a  central stairway to be slotted in. Now to some this may sound very avante garde if my French is correct, but really all the great architect is doing is remembering all the fun he had in the playground with his best friend DmC.

The butcher shop was of course shaped like a cleaver and the doorway was like entering via a pig’s buttocks, and the light fittings looked like a cow’s udder with lights coming out of the teats. This made the shopping experience feel more like a visit to an art exhibition.

The Public in West Brom did of course fail and was turned into a school, which proves Art should be left to real experts, not councillors who call themselves cabinet members, but know nothing about, woodwork.

Modern computer games do allow you to create spaces and so forth and these can be expensive, but do you know what are the best tools for creativity? Imagination is the best tool of all and a bit of paper and some crayons. If when you walk home from Aldi with your kids and you encourage them you look around and notice all the people all the beautiful people, what is the result?  They are observant.

They may even become writers like dad, but their minds are filled with shapes and noises and best of all with ideas. If all your kids do is trudge home resenting having to go to the shops with you, then you have missed an opportunity. Open your kids’ minds, don’t just fill them full of sugar, fill them with ideas and love and hope.

A hand-made card is made with love and skill, it keeps you kids busy for ages while you have a cuppa, or a sly pint of Stella Artois. Expand their minds with words and shapes and sounds and craft stuff, then you will have the next Laura Ashley in your home, and best of all batteries are excluded.

Reverse Engineering in Russia

As you can imagine my stuff, my writing is an acquired taste, but you'll agree you like it.

Recently Russia has climbed on board, it may just be bored Chess experts looking to practice their English.

So if I could get a column in a Russian paper, online or print that would be beyond belief.

That would be a Dream come true, as a result of all my Russian Readers Prayers, which may remind you of today's piece about Dreams and Prayer.

If this were to happen then and only then would Western Media begin to get interested in some of my one million words.

So the impossible has to happen in the East before the West gives me a break, reverse engineering if you like.

Though really it would be more like King Herod, just tell me where Michael is and then I'll give him a column. Though in reality Herod would arrange for the whole world to block all my shorts. Which sounds like some form of Constipation.

So to avoid me being Constipated please help me get a column, everywhere would be best, but in the Journal of Gravediggers and Morticians Minsk Area  5, would be a good place to start.

Here's my very first post for them.

The Dead and The Living ©

by

Michael Casey

I first saw a deceased when I was nine years old ,my father said not

to worry as the dead are the same as the living , only the laughter

has left them , the sparkle has gone from their eyes , the worry has

been lifted from their shoulders , and their voice has vanished to

eternity .

In paradise the sparkle will return for it is the twinkle of the

stars , the laughter will return too for it is the morning breeze and

the turning tides are their sides shaking with laughter .

I treat the deceased with the same courtesy as I give to the living ,

though I find the deceased are always more polite . My father also

had a few words to say about the living .

He said that the living are only the caretakers of the soul , yet

they think their existance is everything , that they know everything

because they experience many things with their senses .

What the living don't acknowledge is that their time is short and

when I lay their bodies to rest then their souls continue without

them , without their strong , without their weak , without their

beautiful or even ugly temporary form , to where I cannot say , only

that it is a better place .

Percy the undertaker placed the lid on the coffin ,the soul was free

THE BEGINNING

***********

I thought of this on a bus to work in Nov 1987 in fact its part of 

The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker  my comic novel. and yes its on Amazon