Friday, 13 October 2017

3 Way Ping Pong

pain monster all day so here's an old piece from 5 years ago

3 Way Ping Pong©
By Michael Casey
I have a friend, two actually, on FaceBook who inspire me, we make each other laugh. They are in New York and have American accents I suppose, me, I’m in Birmingham, the English one. Though in Birmingham we pronounce it “Bermingum”, no long drawn out BirmmingggHAAM. Is the saying a common people divided by a language? Or maybe the other way around.
Now E & S, I’m protecting their identities, as their children may disapprove of them talking to strangers. Now E & S live together, they are related, me I’m in Birmingham with a Shanghai wife and two bilingual daughters. E & S speak and write American English, me I read/write English English. However there can be days and I mean whole days when all I hear is Chinese, as my wife screams to her mom in Shanghai. Chinese people are very loud, especially over the Internet.
So if you like E & S are my refuge. Good morning I’ll start with, as I put my bowler hat on and open my umbrella, it’s always raining in England after all. I may send a link from a newspaper over here, and they reply with a link from over there. Ping replied with Pong. Now first E may reply before S counters, it’s like having two pitchers at the Red Socks, so occasionally I have to duck.
Now E and S are poets and writers, E has a big vocabulary, luckily I have a very big dictionary, and best of all the Internet makes everybody a spelling bee, and I can find out the meaning too. Being over here she cannot see the expression on my face when I don’t know the meaning of her big words. While she is typing her next sentence I can run for the dictionary and/or Wikipedia, so I can smoothly and effortlessly seem intelligent, when it’s my turn to return service.
So this goes on, with photos of what S has baked or made for their breakfast. I’m putting the pounds on and that’s just by looking at S’s photos of cakes galore. So S is a poet, writer and baker. Then splat, is it E returning service over the cyber table tennis table? No it’s a photo of pancakes that they are having for breakfast. I’m sure my Internet connection is slowing down due to all the maple syrup in the status updates.
E will say something and I will repost as I move closer to the net, S will make another comment distracting me from my left hand side. Then Taiwan or Arab friends pop up with news, and I’ll comment on Esol English  lists, I’m jumping from here to there, hither to thither, now how do I explain those two words to Esol English students.
I have a new post to share so I post it, after putting it on my own site https://butcherbakerundertaker.blogspot.co.uk/  In nanoseconds and I’m not exaggerating E has read it, she’s an executive editor, she reads fast. S told me once E was at the dentist and somebody dropped a magazine and before it hit the floor E had read it.
So this is how I use the Internet and FB too. FaceBook is a form of Ping Pong, and Ping is an IT word after all. Ping Pong is how FaceBook works, and don’t forget I have a Shanghai wife so I know all about Ping Pong.
Now what about FaceBook itself? Well Facebook is a 3 ring circus, with high wire acts, with juggling, with lion taming, and not forgetting the clowns. And the staff? They are roadies, they set up the tent, allowing me, E and S not to mention the 1,000,000,000 rest of you to play the game.
Now I know a thing or two about roadies, when I was a concierge at CPNEC we had the Arena next door. Roadies stayed at the hotel. All of them wear shorts and they have tattoos on their calves, it’s too hot to wear long trousers. So I can reveal this final piece of information, Mark Zuckerberg has tattoos on his calves. If you don’t believe me just go ask him, does he ever roll up his trouser legs when he’s paddling at the beach?  Ping Pong.
one day you'll all buy a few books and I hope it's before I hit the bucket

I'm like Napoleon today

We have Germany Poland Ukraine Russia are all reading at the same time

As well as USA right now as well as a few others.

So its like I'm taking  over the world

have you got nothing better to do?

I had a bad night of pain, but you are all bored already so I'll shut up.

Read K pop saves the world because we really need it to at the moment.

I'll  try and write something new today, pain permitting, if you could hear my breathing and me talking then  you'd appreciate my pain levels.

That's it for now, perhaps I'll conquer the world , has anybody got a horse, a horse a horse my kingdom for a horse.

My dad really was a blacksmith you know.

He started in Rathmore County Kerry in 1930s, when we went back 20+ years ago the forge was a hairdressers.


mum's  birthplace Cromane Lower County Kerry

Thursday, 12 October 2017

ELEVATOR AD June 2017

    
  
 ELEVATOR AD June 2017
For my One Million Words of laughter over 30 years of writing.
I’m Irish so the p.s. comes first.
p.s. I have readers in:- Canada, USA, UK, Ireland, India,Pakistan,Australia,New Zealand,Russia,Poland,Czech,Germany, Austria, France,Portugal,Singapore,Nigeria and China, Taiwan, Philippines, Brazil, South Korea, Vietnam to name but a few places.
Hello, how about a Verbal Cartoon for Radio and all other media

I grew up listening to the radio, we all used to hide under the blankets and listen when we should have been fast asleep. Radio did change my life, a lodger gave us a radio when he had to go back to Ireland to look after his sick mum. In fact he left all his stuff and caught the first boat home. Months later he came back to see us and said me and my brother could have his old Bush radio. I spent 20 years listening to radio. That and being afraid of Mr Gallagher when I was 8 changed my life, and improved my intellect.
I met my Shanghai wife in the old people's home, she was cleaning my dad's room. I was positively vetted by a Chinese Ballerina  from the Birmingham Royal Ballet, in the Queens Tavern a straight bar in the Gay Quarter, now we are married with 2 bilingual daughters. Even Totoro our cat is female and bilingual. I am the token male and English speaker in the family.
Now here's a few samples, what I'd like to do would be to read my shorts/blogs on your radio. Each piece is about 90 seconds long, 90 seconds with Michael is the idea, simple idea. I have gained 19,208 views on Funny or Die for a sample
1st chapter of Tears for a Butcher which will be my 8th book.
Only the other day a publisher said my book of shorts 300 and Not OUT was very funny.
 In fact I must have 1200 shorts, enough for over a year.
21,000 Polish readers in March 2017 just by word of mouth.  
I have recorded 207 of them so far, 11+ hours plus of audio. I have nearly 300,000 views on Google+ as well

but

I did not believe it, so I left Google +, and I am NOT  on Facebook either.

Just on my sites and on Amazon Kindle, one day people may buy some of my books.
I have started recording all my Shorts and have put 50+ of them on 

I have a new mike now too, so listen in reverse order.
My  14 books are on Amazon Kindle


Here's the samples for radio or print.

LinkedIn Profile  and  CV ©
By
Michael Casey
We’ve all been on Facebook and LinkedIn, we get to know people and make “friends”. On LinkedIn it’s more about connections and maybe business connections. So we have to rely on the Profile, my LinkedIn profile tells my story, as I am a writer. But how accurate are these Profiles?
I am a born leader.
Means he was the firstborn boy in a family of 11 girls.
I created the supply chain structure.
Means he decided to use a clipboard and notepad instead of just his memory.
I optimised the sales among target audiences.
He chatted up all the girls, he was kind to seniors and went to church.
I was inventive and creative in gaining new sales.
Means he designed a flyer and went street to street delivering them.
I was never afraid of going the extra mile for the business.
Means there was a street gang chasing  him after he was at  the bank
I am great at communicating the business message.
He just would not shut up, so the boss got him to tidy the fruit outside the ma and pa store.
I always try and improve myself.
Means he has no friends so he reads a lot.
I created the new scheme to optimise the business cash flow.
Means he took the store’s cash and put the money on a horse.
I am now looking for new opportunities to excel
Means he got fired, cops not called as the owner married to his sister
I created a great new idea for centralising purchasing delivery.
Means he was a guard for the money delivery company, crash helmet and visor.
I created my own start-up company
Means he stole the money from the cash delivery company and started his own company.
I am now on a learning sabbatical before resuming my career
Means he is in jail, working in the library.
So when you read those LinkedIn profiles or reading a CV or resume think what do they really mean. Check the photos out too, the reality can be far different. Just like actors, photos can be 10 or 20 years old, and they are. Dig deeper.
Me, I google and check people out, as far as you can on Google. Google me(michaelgcasey) and my sites and think for yourself. I am on a sabbatical myself, no I’m not in a library, thought we have plenty of books in the house, no it’s called arthritis, which comes and goes and makes me scream sometimes. But at least I can sit here and make some of you laugh, as I Google everybody.
Sadly since I wrote my advert I need to add unplanned quadruple heart bypass to my advert, but I have written 4 more books these past  few years, taking my total to 14 on Amazon, and I have reached over 1,170,000 words written.

Let There Be Light ©
 By Michael Casey
Let my tears be my words
Let the candle light be my eyes
Let the flowers in bloom be my lips
Let their scent be my blood
Let the wind be my breath
Let clouds be my mood
Let children’s laughter be my hope
Let widows’ sighs be my conscience
Let a stranger’s prayers be my delight
Let the bees be my wisdom
Let the trees be my strength
Let my patience reach to the stars
Let me be always remembered in your prayers
            
                The Dead and The Living (c)

                           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 existence 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
      

  


Sleepover©
By
Michael Casey
Sleepover is exactly that, your sleep is over, you have laughing kids invading your house, and driving you out of your minds. Well not always, but it is very distracting. You can’t remember what you were doing and where has that file gone on the computer. This is the 2nd time I’m telling this story, why, because my Word, or upon my word, the story died or rather Word did not close properly, so now you’re getting something different.
Total strangers, or strangers to you arrive at the house and kind of invade it for a night. You do shout up the stairs, keep them out of my room. Not because you have anything worth stealing, but they are stealing your privacy, and that’s all you have left if you have daughters in your house.
Then the smell of nail varnish drifts down the stairs and permeates everywhere, its worse than mustard gas from the Great War. You scream up the stairs, open all the windows fully, what about your room, dad? Especially mine.
Its then that your inner sanctum is breached as they bring their friends to help them open the window. They see the Teddy Bear that you’ve had since you were 6 years old, the invader laughs. She also sees the deep heat by your bed, And he complains about nail varnish.
Dinner time arrives and you have to feed the cuckoo, only she doesn’t eat this or she doesn’t eat that, on principle. So you say, you’ll have to stave then. Your daughter, the host, is horrified, so you relent and flick a pound coin at them, cholesterol free oil used to make the chips. So a compromise is achieved.
You put Sky Sports on to watch the match, they say Qatar is going to build underground stadia, novel idea. You are settling down to see Rooney when they arrive back chip laden. Her friend just loves the ballet and Sky Arts has Bolshoi on, so could they please please watch that. You say you’ll record it for them. But you are as bad as a puppy murderer even for suggesting it.
So being a nice dad you let them watch the ballet on your 46inch tv, while you retreat to watch the match on the laptop upstairs. They never tell you about this at parenting classes, just how to change nappies. Let’s hope William and Kate are told.
After the ballet they retreat upstairs for girlie music, and what were you doing in their room on the laptop. Didn’t you know you are just a dad not allowed in the inner sanctum. The Hits is switched on  their dab radio at volume 13, you retreat to watch the after match talk on the big screen.
Later its bath time, so you have to wait 2 hours for all the girls in your house, including the cuckoo, to pollute the bathroom before you a mere dad, and bill payer, can have a shave. Only your last razor has been used to save somebody’s legs.
So everybody goes to bed, all is well, holding your teddy bear, you sleep soundly. Until 3am, when a banshee screaming wakes you, your wife and all the neighbours. It’s the cuckoo, she’s having a nightmare, it must be the chips, and the cholesterol free oil from them. Or half waking up and forgetting where she was.
So remembering to put on your dressing gown you have to calm everybody down, and answer the door, to the police, as the neighbour from neighbourhood watch has rung them. So the police come in and have a look. Flatulence is written down in the Police note book. As you let the police out the house again your smallest daughter hands you your teddy bear, its ok dad, it’s only a sleepover.

How do Men Shop? ©
By Michael Casey
There is a difference between Men and Women, and thank God for it. But how do men shop? Shopping for men is about getting what you need, my shoes have a hole in them so I’ll go to the shop and buy another pair. A man will buy a new pair of shoes that are exactly the same as his old pair of shoes, or if he’s being adventurous he’ll have a pair of shoes which are exactly the same but with grey laces and not black. Now to a man this is being fashion conscious. If a man wants a new pair of trousers he just goes to the shop and sees if they have his leg/waist size and then tries them on, making sure they don’t split when he bends over and that his package is not squeezed. If a man needs a suit he checks the trousers before putting on the jacket, the jacket must be able to be done up without his belly exploding the buttons off. A man will never button up his suit jacket, but he needs to know that the buttons won’t fly off and hit anybody in the eye, if ever he does.
If a man needs a shirt he checks the neck size, 18.5 in my case, and then he sees if its full fit or not. Then he buys 5 shirts exactly the same all  in plastic . For a lazy shopper he’ll go straight to Slaters and get what he wants. In and out in 30 mins for everything. Then he’ll go to the pub and meet his mates and have one pint too many and leave all his shopping in the Queens Tavern. Luckily they are honest there and his shopping is saved, otherwise he’s have to waste 30mins in Slaters, before going back to the pub.
This is basically the difference between men and women. Woman shop, men pick up clothes or whatever like an order picker does, without any passion.  A man gets home and puts his shopping away and forgets about it. Just like in the film The Fly where the man’s wardrobe contains suits all the same colour, clothes are just a thing so they are all uniform.
As for women shopping s something different, the clothes have to be tried on and they must make the woman look perfect, her bum or boobs mustn’t be to big or too small, everything should be right. To help the woman chose her clothes she brings two or three mates or her children with her. Her man is forced to come too, but he plugs Radio5 Live into his ear and listens to the football  while she is choosing. Men know 5 colours, red, blue, red, green, yellow or maybe one or two more; as for a woman there are at least 50 colours, and just as the eskimos have 30 words for snow a woman has 10 words for each colour and its hews.
This brave man, or am I stupid, I just give my wife the debit card and say leave me in peace, so she goes off with a smile with the girls with her, they are young Fashionistas after all. I decided years ago what a wife needed was space to shop and not constant looks at my watch. So that’s what she does and her bulging wardrobe will testify to the wisdom of my decision. When a woman comes home its 2 hours of mix and match to make sure that the new clothes match the old clothes, the husband tries to watch the big match on tv but his wife is prancing around the living room asking “does my bum show” and various other questions. It’s a penalty, and you sit on the edge of your seat, the wife appears and blocks your view, so you miss seeing why  your side was relegated. Normal life in homes up and down the country.
The next day you watch the match again in peace, you remembered to record it on Sky+ and as for the wife she’s gone back to the shop to return ½ of what she bought because it doesn’t match her shoes. And it’s your fault because you wouldn’t give her your debit card again so she could buy cheap £100 shoes.

All Things Bright and Beautiful ©
 By Michael Casey
 I haven’t written a non-pain piece in a while, so I’ll try and forget the pain and write something new. We’ve just had the half time holidays and my girls have been playing “shop-girls” as they call it. They even have a sign on their bedroom door saying “open” or “closed”. They steal my wife’s clothes and prance about upstairs. Our eldest daughter has bigger feet than my wife now so that’s a relief as she cannot steal my wife’s shoes any more, but it does not prevent her younger sister from wearing mum’s shoes. There is also the matter of the beret with silver sequins, that’s an absolute Fashion Must.
Me, I’m not fashionable at all, three girls in the house is enough, if I gave in to them they’d be beading my eye brows, I do wear pink on occasions, so that’s as far as I go. If I were maybe 3 stones lighter I’d try other things, I did see a nice cord jacket in Cotton Traders 48R, it was bright blue, Kingfisher Blue, my girls called it a “Clown Jacket”. With encouragement like that what am I supposed to do? I did say if I win Euro millions I WILL buy the jacket. My wife has a nice light brown one, although as she is a woman there will be a more accurate colour name, men don’t do colours. If you think of it its black and white, blue, green, orange as far as men go, but women at least another 40 names for colours. As far as my hair goes, its silver, though a friend used to say I was an old man with white hair. As the colour of our hair change it’s the 7 ages of man.
I remember Ali saying why wasn’t it “Whitemail” instead of blackmail. We are in the Pink if we have good health, I long to be back in the pink myself. We say we hope be back in the black not in the red when we do company accounts, we look for the silver linings. We look look look for the rainbow as the song goes, we may find the crock of gold, all our troubles may be over and we can pack them up in the old kit bag. Hope springs up within us, it is now Spring after all, and as Chance the Gardener said “in the Spring there will be growth.”

Cheese and Chorizo ©
By Michael Casey
 The thing about girls is that they steal your stuff, you think they are nice and sweet smelling, but they are not. If they get up before you they’ll raid your side of the fridge and eat your cheese and chorizo. Cheese and chorizo on toast, with hot chocolate to follow, this is how your daughters treat you. This is how my girls treat me.
Yesterday mum bought biscuits, and did she share them? NO. The girls got some but I got none. They were  the ones I really like, its always the ones you really like. I looked high and low, just like an Ah Ha song, but nothing. JJ the wife just laughed at me as I went from pillar to post looking for a biscuit, the Tunnock ones. See this is how the 3 girls in my life treat me, I am biscuitless. Finally after much derision my small daughter showed me  where the biscuits were, a new hiding place, that’s why I could not find them. So I was victorious, I sneaked a biscuit into my pocket and slipped away to eat it in peace.
Shoes are a big thing, so our small daughter walks around the house in mum’s shoes, mine are too big so thankfully they are left alone. However having two daughters who like Textiles, which is the fancy word from school for sewing and making things. If they like textiles then your clothes are not safe, they drag a shirt or two out of the wardrobe and say they want to turn it into something. Jumpers are not safe either, they can cut them down to make a dress  or even a handbag. And as for needles, it’s like having a porcupine in the family, DANGER. You only realise that after you have sat on a needle or two, the wife just says its free acupuncture, no need to asked Dr Hu to pay us a visit, and yes he really is Dr Hu, not Dr Who, but Dr Hu.
Now that our 11year old is 5feet tall, as big as mum, she wants to wear her clothes, but you can imagine what kind of clothes a Shanghai girl wears. So there is debate in Chinese, I cannot understand a word, but SANINGONGA is heard quite often which means no. Which also means my girls, our girls will return to steal from my wardrobe again. In a way it’s like having moths, but instead of holes in your clothes, entire items just disappear. BUT it’s not just the girls, its mum too, she’ll decide that the Fashion Police would not like this item or that item, so it  disappears.  When do I find out? Never, or nearly never, until I walk past a charity shop and see a tent sized item in the window, it’s my clothes.
So if you want to keep the clothes on your back, don’t have daughters. If  you want your favourite food safe in your side of the fridge, the none Chinese side of the fridge, then don’t have daughters. If you want to save your pennies, don’t have a Shanghai wife. But then life would be boring, just make sure you look before you sit.

From A to B from Sat Nav to Blocked Sink  ©
 By Michael Casey
 Well I hope you are all fine this morning. For us the Sat Nav debate continues. In the old days a Black Taxi would not be seen using an AtoZ, it was beneath his dignity. He'd done the Knowledge and it was all up there in his head. Jack Rozenthal wrote a great play about it, was it 30years ago? Maureen Lipman was his real wife.
 Delivery drivers have and egg and bacon butty in one hand dripping egg on to the AtoZ in their other hand while they try and deliver a chest of drawers, with 5 days growth of beard for good measure.
 Bus drivers know their route, so once they've done it a while its automatic, they know what they are doing. All they have to do is put up with kids trying to use a 3 day old ticket, and not get too high from all the cannabis on the bus. Or remember when they have switched routes because that can lead to strange directions.
 Door to door salesmen all those years ago, with the rap at tat tat on the back door had their route carrying the suitcase with samples in. I can vaguely remember one at our back door did my mum buy a clothes brush? But that must be 45 years ago.
So basically we all know what we want and where we are going. Going further back they say people only knew a six block radius around their home. Going to War changed all that as did radio and then more importantly tv. Tv being our eyes on the world, previous to that only Merchant Seaman knew of the world. My own granddad was a merchant sea man, I sometimes wonder did he ever get to Shanghai
Or was it me, his grandson who got there first. Had he visited at the turn of the 19th/20th Century 100years and more ago.
 Which brings us back to Sat Nav. Me I use a bus which is fine apart from the pot heads who sit next to you on the bus and all I want to do is puke. My wife is a car driver, so she and our girls love the car. But my wife has borrowed a Sat Nav and likes the ease of it so now she wants one of her own. The result is that I’m being nagged to provide one. You pay, me pay, yes you pay, why me pay, because you are the husband so you pay, no way me pay, you pay you pay yourself, I say. And on the ding dong, sing song goes. Which is the fun part. Me I no pay, use computer I say. You can get perfect directions off the computer all you then have to do is print them off, if our printer was still working we’d be doing that. So really all the wife has to do is copy them down, in English.
 She’s  busy with the wok as I talk to you, she’s compromised now, she only wants me to pay half. So I say I’ll be doubly generous and double the share I won’t pay, I’ll pay zero and she can pay 100%. That’s the true spirit of negotiation, now I have another thing to resolve, she’s blocked the sink, so pardon me now as I take the plunge, or rather take the plunger to the sink, no need to use a Sat Nav to get there, its over my shoulder in the next room, just turn left at the tv and go straight on to the sound of bubbles. Love is everywhere don’t you know it, just find it, no Sat Nav required.


My other idea is a book of shorts, 40 stories with 40 translations
on facing page plus 40 audio of me reading my stories on usb stick.
Perfect to teach English as a 2nd language, via humour.
I was an Esol English teacher and gained
2 Excellents and an Exemplary on my external Assessment
As I have written 1200+ stories this would be a series of 30 plus books
So we could have Mandarin/Japanese/Urdu/Spanish/Hindi/Russian etc
This would be a world wide hit, angel investors needed

some can be heard at www.michaelgcasey.typepad.com 

Cheerio, Michael Casey  




www.michaelgcasey.typepad.com  to hear me read 50+ stories


14 ebooks and 3 Printed on Paper Books





If you want posh looking stuff you'll have to pay me more, otherwise its the words that count.



Wednesday, 11 October 2017

A Cat's Tale I'll try and do a new piece in am

A Cat’s Tale ©
By Michael Casey

As you all know we have a cat, or as on DT reader said, the cat has you. You do not own a cat, you are just part of its world. The cat allows you to feed it and look after it, the cat, or Totoro as our kitten is called is just playing with us. Totoro knows he has nine lives, and 4 people queuing up to stroke him, though we discovered he was in fact a she. That was Totoro’s first deception, if he was a male maybe we wouldn’t have as much work to do.
Totoro just loves running and I mean running around the house and bouncing from one new settee to another, in between diving at the scratch post we bought. Then he’ll or rather she’ll wait next to a door so she can bounce around the next room. She likes diving from the old sofa to the piano, and then to the bookcase and a with a flip over the old covered orange chair to the front room window windowsill. I’m sure she’s on drugs. Whenever I take out my bag of medicine she always wants to dive inside. Perhaps in another life she was a drugs dealer, she just loves trying to get into my bacg of heart medicine.
So as she has had her two inoculations I decided to let her have more supervised play time in the garden, I don’t believe in cats being house cats, cats like walking on fences and howling at the moon. So Totoro was good and came back when I shook the bag of cat treats, £1 from Poundland, in fact Totoro would sell her soul for a cat treat. This worked fine for a day or so. Then maybe it was the hot weather the cat disappeared, I’d been having an afternoon rest, much needed  after cardiac surgery, so I had to investigate the case of the missing kitty.
We looked high and low, you have to as kittens can climb, eventually my small daughter found her asleep in the store where we keep the grass cutters. It was a warm and secure place, so obviously that was where Totoro chose to sleep. Later on Totoro  decided to have another adventure, she disappeared up the alley and over fences, to have tea with the other cats. Tea could be a metaphor for many things. Four fools went ashearching, the kitten just laughed, we must have spent a couple of hours in the pursuit. The neighbourhood cats just laughed looking on from roof tops and from back bed room windows, where they were watching budding computer geniuses when they weren’t looking out the window.
As twilight fell Totoro allowed herself to be caught, kittens control owners, it is never the other way around. So relieved Totoro was borne home and lauded and fed. So Totoro went to bed happy with a smile on her face, maybe plotting her next big adventure. Today the sun had its hat on, the hottest day of the year, so Totoro had her next plan ready. I’d been up at the secondary school to do some admin for my small daughter’s transfer, the sun had its hat on, but Totoro had her coat on.
I let her out for supervised play then she disappeared, first up a tree like a tree surgeon or even a mountain climber, how can kittens climb so fearlessly, I pretended to be a dog in an effort to get her to come back, but this did not work. I shake the cat treats, but she was not interested, so this kitten had no soul to sell. My brother would have sold his soul for a Rolo as a child but Totoro was soulless.
I went on the school run and came home with a concerned child, so she prayed to Saint Martin de Porres  again, asking him to bring back Totoro home. It had worked yesterday twice, so would this be third time lucky. I told her cats like traveling, they have several owners, and even several aliased, and get fed by all. Not to worry, and if Totoro loved us then she would return.
I then went for my post cardiac rest, you cannot worry too much about a cat when you have to listen to your body. Nearly six months post op and still a lot of pain and new pain from my old arthritis, besides we had cats for 30 years at home, I know cats can look after themselves.
When I arose, like Dracula, they gave me Iron tablets last week, anyway the cat had come running after her name had been called. All’s well that ends well, as some fellow writer from down the road from my house once said. You just have to trust a cat’s nature, she isn’t worried about you, she’s just plotting to do just exactly what she wants to do. A cat owns you and you just have to accept it, she’ll please herself, she has her own life to lead, nine in fact, and you are just lucky if she shares one of them with you.

*********
my writing started very family orientated but as the kids grow so the writing grows and changes and gets more grown up or for more grown up readers. I hope everything I write is no more than a 12 certificate. Its all in the mind you don't need to be graphic. Go listen to the old BBC Radio 4 comedies from the 60s such as Around the Horne or ITMA or the Goons then you'll see or hear some of my influences.But I have many influences, even though I had the flu jab last week. That is why my backside is so wide.


List of my books, written by me, Michael Casey  they are on Amazon
The fat silver haired writer in shades. from Birmingham England

  • The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker
  • Shoplife
  • Essays and Plays
  • Blogs 2011
  • 300 and Not OUT
  • Shorts 2013
  • More Shorts 2014
  • Quick Stories
  • Still Alive 2015
  • Undiscovered Words 2016
  • Still Smiling 2017
  • Altogether Now
  • New Horizons
  • 14 Up








Tuesday, 10 October 2017

The Official 1000th piece of writing well here on Blogger anyway from march 2017


The Official 1000th piece of writing well here on Blogger anyway
The Official 1000th piece of writing well here on Blogger anyway (c)
By
Michael Casey

Should there be fireworks, should there be a 1000 gun salute like in some tinpot state far far away should there be this  or should there be that? See this could be a poem, should it be could be the title.

No, lets just have a chat, what would you do to celebrate 1000 somethings. The 1000th time you farted, but who keeps count, only little brothers. The 1000th time you had a pint of Stella Artois, the barman keeps a count, and throws you out when you have had too many.

Why do we celebrate things anyway, is everything made up by brewers and cake makers. See I've thrown in a bit of philosophy for you. We celebrate things to break up the monotony of everything. To stop us getting bored we have a break from the routine and have a celebration. Michael has cut himself shaving so we'll celebrate that, Barry has farted  so we can celebrate that, as he always farts we are always celebrating. So instead we switch to celebrating when he hasn't farted.

See its all an artificial thing, just as artificial as Mandy's boobs,  she went away on holiday for a week and came back with an enormous chest and pretended nothing had changed. Well it had, her chest was enormous, and she soon had lots and lots of new boyfriends. Then we placed bets on how soon it would be before she was pregnant. Cruel but every so much fun, us girls are like that aren't we?

So should I explain how I started writing and why I carry on, why won't I stop and so on. Well its the only thing I can do now, now that my health is where it is. I was a:- computer operator, a MARCH Assessor, a call centre operator, a temp, a print room person at a law firm and at city hall, an ESOL English Teacher, a hotel worker where I did 10 different jobs, Jack of All trades at the CPNEC Birmingham. So those are some of my day jobs throughout my life as well as being unemployed and spending 40 hour a week on the computer tracking down work on Job Sites. And I have been an avid BBC Radio 4 listener, 20 years work, followed by 30 years of writing. Then several years of pain, all kinds of everything has been my life.

But the best thing is being a dad to daughters and our female cat Totoro. How many 1000 days I get left with them is not up to me its up to God, you think you are indestructible until you have a major op and then another disease or two comes along. So you have to enjoy every day and hope all these stories you write will be read by your girls when you are gone. I've left 1,000,000 WORDS for them I hope they enjoy them if they get time to read them now that Studying will dominate their lives for the next 10 years.  The writing, my writing has been my babies until the real babies arrived. 1000 pieces of writing to prove to myself that I have a brain and to create and share laughter.

Celebrate each day as if its your last is what they say, I hope you all enjoy my words until one day they stop suddenly. I do hope though that I can leave you laughing. So my final word is FART.
 
 p.s.I've released more stuff on my cartoon made from words site as somebody seems to be looking at it.


 

A Woman's Beauty a piece from 2012

A Woman’s Beauty ©
By Michael Casey

A woman's beauty has many seasons too, the first smile that floors any man, the kind word that heals any hurt, the tears that break any heart.  The touch that offers sympathy,  the consoling hug. The softness that brings hope to all of us. Softness is strength. All kinds of graces that are like pearls throw before swine, swine being men in the main.

A woman loves from her  heart, a man tends to love from his loins until he is educated  by the love of a good woman. Women don’t battle and try to win all the time, tender words are given to children, and men are just children who pretend they are all grown up. Words and curses are used and it’s the women who are the peacemakers, when all the wars are over its women who are left to bring the family together.

Family is woman, the home the hearth is woman, men are out working and the mother glues the family together while the men are at work. Times changed but still its mum and the kids, they are the family, dad is out working up to 16 hours a day, at least my dad was. When dad is off work for the weekend then the family is full and complete, laughter rings out and when the ice cream van is heard in the street dad sends us out to get some ice creams. TV shows are watched together, kids snuggle up to dad to rest their head on his fat belly, dad’s Winnie  The Pooh like belly.

As kids it’s the mother who teaches the children their first prayers, it’s the mother who spread the Faith, but why is it that only men are the priests? A mother encourages and sooths, a dad gives the pocket money out  at the weekend so you can go to the Grove Cinema. On a Sunday there is cake and tea, dad goes to the pub and comes home with cheese and onion crisps in his pockets. Warm memories, memories that make up Family, then one Saturday night in May , mum is gone. Mum is dead, the priest comes to the house in the early hours returning with brother and sister, dad cries it finally hits him, his wife of nearly 50 years is gone. Dad said mom had all the Graces, “She was as strong as a horse” which is high praise coming from a blacksmith.



If you are wondering

If you are wondering (c)
By Michael Casey

If you are wondering how I go about amusing you, or is it bemusing you?  Then I am all for patterns. A pattern or method helps things along. If its all random then its harder. I nag my girls about routine and getting out of my way so I can get into the bathroom. Otherwise its Midnight before I can get into the bathroom.

So if you have a routine you actually have more time not less. I worked shifts all my life so you have to be on time for the bus and go to bed on time so you can get up in time for the bus. Nowadays kids are on their phone all the time and Time just disappears, and then there is a log jam for our bathroom. Self discipline is needed too, yes relax and chill but if you don't Timetable things then the day or evening is gone and you have not done a thing.

No I'm NOT saying every second has to be ordered, what I am saying is that if you sweep like the second hand then you achieve more. So you come in from school and take the horrid uniform off and put you PJs or tracksuit on. Bags go up a corner and then you put the dinner on before you  sit down. After a chill period homework is done. Then you can go back to your toys. But very important in today's world is encouraging your kids to read a book, an hour a day, either on paper or on one of those Kindles.

I already know readers out there are criticising me for being too harsh. If I told you our girls were not allowing video games when they were young. Crayons and pencils in the hundreds were what they got, which means they can draw, which is a great skill in itself. Self discipline is the key, or if you are parent you bestow it on your kids. Nobody is allowed to do what they want, we all have to do the stuff we don't like so that we can afford to do the stuff we DO like.

No I'm not a Fascist, people seem to want everything but don't want to put the work in. Years of crayons instead of video games means my girls are good artists. Being forced to hit the books at an early age means that later on they enjoy reading and have an imagination. They are not the Vultures from the Jungle Book who are bored and forever saying. What are we gonna do now.

Ok, enough of the methodology. When I write I look out the window and if I see something or somebody it can ignite an idea. This is because I did spend 20 years listening to BBC Radio4 BEFORE I started to write 30 years ago. So I have 1000s of plays and films I've watched, not forgetting 100s of books I read over the years and a deep interest in TV news, and Radio4 news reports. I also am like a vacuum cleaner and I suck things up, and later, ever decades later a word can make me vomit up a memory. No I don't have total recall, some things I wish I could forget, but generally  I am a vacuum cleaner. A vacuum cleaner full of 50 years of memories, my memory goes back to 1963.

Yes that's how I write, I look in the Soup, and I ladle out a story. Nowadays because my health is a pain in my butt and maybe yours, I have good days and bad days. So I may dig out an old story and feed it to you all, while I have a day off from the page. But my work ethic is so strong I should be a Protestant, this is an old joke. As is the one about Rhythm Method and writing or is it drumming? You can work that one out for yourselves. I remember Dave Allen and now I look like him, or my hair at any rate.

I can write pure fiction, or just parody, with or without Vanessa our noisy neighbour. I may even come up with a poem. I don't like to restrict myself, you know what happened to the body builder who did that? I can have an idea, so that's like the dots in a colouring book, and then when I sit down I'm just joining up the dots for myself. So it can appear slow to me while I'm actually putting it down on paper. Or I have an idea and a style for a piece then as I start to write it changes. I am the ball in the pin ball machine, I can be knocked off course, or I can be expert and hit all the bells and buzzers.

It is only when  I finish after an hour, they usually take an hour, when I read the whole piece that I can see if I have nailed it. Its a bit like a tapestry, I am looking at one side while I write. then I turn it over and all is revealed. If I accidentally delete the piece then it is lost forever, as I could never rewrite it, its not a recipe, everything is original. OK some of you dispute that, but the idea is that each story is unique. yes I may mention things again in another piece but generally everything is unique. If I were to write another full length book it would take a year of my life, or 3 months if I borrowed a legal secretary, so I stick to my one hour pieces. On this tally 1400, including repeats.


Ok that's your lot I have to collect more heart meds and pain killers, at least you know the background to the story telling. I may never have a Monet on my wall like Jeffery Archer, but its something that brings me pleasure. And yes I know you are all thinking of your own pleasures now...








Triple or Quadruple?

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