The Midnight Hour

Posted on 22/01/2018 by michaelgcasey

I just spotted that somebody was looking at “300 and Not OUT”  which is a major collection of funny stories about the family and other bits and bobs. It was called very funny by a publisher at the time. As I talk to you I can remember back in 2012 talking to the physio and saying I could not make up my mind what to call the book. I was having a a bit of acupuncture at the time in my left arm. I’d finished a year as an Esol English teacher and I’d ended up with an arm problem, carrying a heavy briefcase full of work for the students. 2011 had been my teacher year, I even got “excellent, excellent and exemplary” on my external assessment. Yes I’m not telling lies. I am the entertainer kind of teacher.
So now its Midnight, 0r 00:09 according to the clock and its now Monday 22 Jan 2018, I spotted the 300 and Not OUT on my google search, so I wonder who’s been checking me out. I just wish it was my lucky break, at 59, after 30 years of writing, so I can be an “overnight” discovery. Not forgeting 20 years of Radio 4 Listening, by which I mean over 20 hours a week of Speech Radio, and not rubbish Shock Jocks. That’s 50 years to get me to where I am now, talking to you just after Midnight with Tinnitus in my right ear. I hope it goes away it’s been shadowing me for a week now. Perhaps I should form a band with Eric Clapton.
My Profile is best here.  https://www.blogger.com/profile/08360300604946924721
and here. https://www.amazon.com/MichaelCasey/e/B00571G0YC
Today’s total is 1300 short pieces,  over  15 books, the first is a Full Length Novel,
The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker  600 or so pages.
The rest are colletions of short stories, plus a few plays, Shoplife was accepted by a
professional theatre but not finally produced.
A low budget film producer did take a look at The Butcher The Baker and The Undettaker
And Radio people did like my writing style. That Paddington actor could read my stuff on
the radio when he’s finished being Brutus and stabbing people in the back not unless he
wants to go into Politics. Or I could read  my stuff myself, subject to voice test.
I don’t leave tons of stuff on my sites, I backoff and put my stories in a book when I have
enough new material.
Which all amounts to close but no cigar.
I’m still alive 3 years after my unplanned heart bypass which ended up as a Quadruple.
They say you can live 20 years but Statistcally 50% reach 10 years.
I also have arthritis. SO pain is part of my life, post heart op my chest gives me loads of
pain.  More pain than a Page 3 girl. The pain changes daily,  just as Page 3 girls do.
Yes many people have much more pain, but IF I win the lottery big time I’d start a pain
relief centre. And no I don’t mean some kind of house of ill repute. I cannot play the
piano like Les Dawson.
So go to my writer’s page on Amazon and buy my 15 books and not any books by
anybody else of the same name.
For just like in Highlander, there can only be one, and that’s Michael Casey the fat silver
haired writer in shades from Birminghmam, the one in England.

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Michael-Casey/e/B00571G0YC

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

아직도 살아있는 2015 © 마이클 케이시 To Celebrate Korean Olympics

아직도 살아있는 2015 ©  마이클 케이시  To Celebrate Korean Olympics

 아직도 살아있는 2015   

  laugh with the fat silver haired writer in shades from Birmingham England,

when he's not playing in the snow.


me 10 years ago.

go to https://michaelgcaseyfrombirminghamengland.wordpress.com/ to read a book in Korean.

Thank you for visiting just some of my readers this week.

United Kingdom
United States
Ukraine
Portugal
Poland
France
Belgium
Egypt
Italy
Singapore Well I hope eventually you all start to buy a few books they are only 2USD each  but I'm glad you all stopped by. I hope you notice and like the writing style, much better than MSN writing style and others. I'd write for FB too, but I don't think I'd ever join it. Message in a Bottle is more my style, and no I'm not a drunk either. 12 pints a year is my ration. Writer  available, can somebody mention my name to Rupert Murdoch, though he probably knows me already. Trump rings Murdoch every morning to ask has he read my lastest piece. And if you believe in that  then you believe in Fairies. to which you should all reply, I  do, I do. Just  like in the film. There are now 15 books on Amazon and what you are reading now will become Sweet 16, when I have 200 pages worth of material.  https://www.amazon.com/Michael-Casey/e/B00571G0YC  https://www.amazon.co.uk/Michael-Casey/e/B00571G0YC And yes I never know what I'm about to write as it makes it more interesting for me. I have lots of memories so I dip my pen in my memories and away I go. Then an hour later I have a story to share. It remains my copyright, just so all those thieves out there know. Support your fat  silver haired writer in shades and buy a book or all of them. Then I may finally move house, before the cemetery gets me. That's alll for tonight its almost Midnight, we saw 2 good films on tv tonight, you should watch Channel4 and Film4.

The Flies Around our Lives

The Flies Around Our Lives ©

By

Michael Casey

Well its 3pm and the wife is out relaxing or rather having a business lunch then she’ll meet some Shanghai friends in downtown Birmingham. A busy day for her. But life is all about balance, this morning as the snow fell she was busy washing the fleas out of our cat. Obviously it was my fault because I did not get a new flea collar for the cat last time around. Even though now she has a red rubber flea collar with a bell on. The collar with the “best bitch”medal has long since gone.

So there I found the wife washing the cat in the bath, just when I wanted a pee, and I always want a pee. So I told the cat to close her eyes while I had my pee, the cat just laughed, she had seen it all before, she is a cat that goes out at night after all. Hence the fleas. So the cat was washed with my citrus shampoo, as the citrus is supposed to keep the fleas away. Perhaps a new medallion with a rude message for the fleas might work.

So I went back to bed for another hour as I’d been up much earlier, thanks to Arthur my arthritis, I think its all the cold weather bringing it on. Later on I said hello to the cat who just gave me a lion look, she’d claw my, well she’d just claw my, if I didn’t shut up. Cats don’t like being washed. As for the wife she put on her posh clothes and went away for fancy food. The snow still tumbling down, she grabbed some money from my purse, so she could buy cat flea spray from the Vet on the way to her fancy food. Yes I have a purse for coins and a wallet for notes, my dad had a purse too, which was in his pocket as he worked in the steel works. So I follow his manly tradition.

Now its later and its like steam bath in the house as we have put all the washing on the radiators to dry, yes people still do that in 2018. One daughter has come downstairs in her bright pink pyjamas that grannie sent from Shanghai, she is now feeding herself on chicken dippers by Birds Eye, a staple for the girls in our house. Its a change from all the Chinese food. The other has decided to walk in the snow to the church to do the Music Tidy, I told her not to go, but I was ignored, so I told her not to moan when she got a cold. Common Sense has to be learnt the hard way. I was lucky I watched all our  lodgers 50 years ago, and learnt many things.

The cat had been hiding behind the settee next to the radiator but she has since slipped up the stairs to hide in one of the bedrooms. Everything in its place, and a place for everything. If only I could put my Arthritis in the bin, that would be the perfect place for it. My mug is the computer desk to my left, to the left as the right side has the computer tower and to avoid potential mishaps the left is the safe side. The printer by my feet is covered in protective paper just in case of those coffee spills, and thank God for that. So everything is in its place.

When I’ve finished talking to you this piece will find its place on my sites https://butcherbakerundertaker.blogspot.co.uk/   and

https://michaelgcaseyfrombirminghamengland.wordpress.com/  and it’ll be backed up and secured too. So my words have their place in cyberspace and on my PC and security. I’m tidy and methodical, and you need to be, especially in a busy household or things disappear, such as girls’ leggings. My wife and my smallest daughter are the same size and my eldest daughter is a bigger size, but with leggings one size fits all. So yesterday we had the Pantomime of where are my leggings. After much name calling we found them. They had been left on the outside washing line when we’d been in a hurry to bring the washing in. And no I had not been wearing them, women’s silk stockings yes and high heels I will wear, in my private moments, you have all seen De Niro in Stardust. There is a time and a place for everything.

I may pop out to the shops if the snow melts, depending on how my Arthur feels. It is like having an unwanted invisible friend having arthritis. Either way its quiet with the wife out of the house, she’ll no doubt reappear telling us all what great food she had twice. I’ll say any doggy bag? And she’ll reply I’m too fat already, being 3 times her weight literally means that’s her permanent put-down. I say think of my life insurance, so she smiles before changing back into her farmer clothes. Pyjamas with a National Geographic fleece on top, makeup is removed too so she then looks 17.

So that’s a look at life with the Shanghai/Birmingham Caseys, Tororo our cat will reappear later looking for love and snacks. We have to put her collar back on, without the bell she could be an assassin or a Ninja cat. But most of all there are no fleas on her. And even if there were my wife would never let me eat them, as I’m too fat already.

I feel like a street cleaner next to a poet something from 1/11/11

 I feel like a street cleaner next to a poet   (c)

By Michael  Casey 

I feel like a street cleaner next to a poet, empty gutters and sweet wrappers, cigarette stubs and messages of love, puke on the street not very nice to meet, drinkers passing by their booze in a bag, all so very sad, drivers trying to mow me down me and my cart, picking litter is sure no art. But without me, the stains of life would fill the street, gum would stick to their feet. Occasionally a smile and a thank you and even a God Bless, while I clean up others mess.

This is from 1/11/11 I was looking for a piece on Stress, to highlight today, and I stumbled over this. I think it could really be Henry the Street Cleaner in The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker  lamenting his day. I'll try and get back on my horse and cart and write something new in the morning.Its study day in our house as both girls have exams on Monday. The life of a parent, I'll just have to be quiet all weekend and supply chocolate. I've been looking at Rightmove as relaxation and dreaming IF  I could live somewhere really nice.