Sunday, 1 April 2018

Fat Dave and the DJ

Fat Dave and the DJ
By
Michael Casey

Dave was fat and old, and needed a wash, he had the needs a wash smell about him. But he lived alone since his wife had died when she was hit by a supermarket trolley in the large car park of the local supermarket. The trolley had not been parked right and had had a nudge and went crashing down hill over all the pot holes and killed her. Lemony Snicket could not have written it any better, but it was the reality, death by supermarket trolley. But at least they paid for the funeral and did offer a free shopping voucher for life, to compensate for her death.

Dave turned down the offer, shopping as a remembrance of his wife’s death would not have been the same. Though the store really did have such great offers. So Dave these past 20 years got fatter and fatter as he found solace in fast food and take aways, while he listened to all the music they used to enjoy together. Can I Touch You there by Michael Bolton used to be their foreplay song, now he just ate chips and dipped them in loads of tomato ketchup. He did get a payout but not the supermarket voucher one first offered.

Barry White’s You’re my First MY Last My Everything was another romantic piece they listened to as they tested the springs on their marriage bed. Now pizza boxes lay scattered about the house. His one and only one was not there any more, his hot water bottle was not there any more. You are the Sunshine of my Life, was not there any more. Oh Jean he proclaimed was not there for him, as the tears for all his fears and his love of all those years was gone, gone, gone.

He had too many Miss you Nights now, since he did not have her, he had been a man and he had really loved his woman, but now she was gone, not even leaving a watermark. Just a dent in an old supermarket trolley where it had hit her head. He had only had eyes for her, and she had left him crying in his sleep. All that she wanted was him, and now she had lfet him high and dry, with just the tears of a clown to comfort him. Has just about staying alive but he had night fevers.

So on and on and on, he played the music that was in him, he let the music take over. If he didn’t he be under attack, from demons. He was searching for a hero to help him to save him from being under attack from demons. He went through their shared record collection, backwards and forwards, looking for an inner vision. But the music was too much, he thought he’d have to throw it all away. He decided to gather up all the CDs and take them to the charity shop.

On the way to the charity shop, a new saviour entered his life. For as fat Dave struggled with wicker basket on wheels which contained all his cds he met a DJ. The DJ really did save his life. For Miles the DJ helped him move the wicker basket to the charity shop. In fact Miles took over and they chatted on the way. Miles knew all about music and therapy. Miles had broken up with his boyfriend at the exact same time fat Dave had lost his beloved fat bottomed wife. Miles boyfriend had betrayed him in the most vile of ways. He had ran off with a straight haired woman, not even nice locks but a straight haired women with bad makeup had stolen the love of Miles’ life away.

So they consoled each other. Then Miles had an idea, he’s give fat Dave his Samsung S9+ 128gig Phone in exchange for trolley load of CDs. Fat Dave would have 10 times more music and a phone he could use, not that he’d ever use all the fancy photo stuff. Fat Dave struggled for a few minutes, but a bargain was a bargain, and maybe with new music his heart might heal. Miles also gave him his BOSE headphones, he’s had them 6 months and besides Miles always changed his headphones every six months.

So with a wave and a smile fat Dave pottered off while Miles rung for a taxi on his backup Apple phone, he was a DJ after all. Now when Miles got to the club that night he decided to use an old CD player, and he announced that tonight he would only play the basket.  Then closing his eyes he picked out one of fat Dave’s Cds and played a few tracks. It was Boston’s Don’t Look Back, followed by It’s Easy and then A man I’ll Never Be. Quickly followed by Tina Turner’s Steamy Windows, then Simply the Best. I’ve tried everything came next, followed by I want it all, and then Lifted.

On and on the night went on. A disit a basket, I pull one from the basket shouted Miles the DJ over the frenzy. Whatever love Dave had had for his wife was in that basket and it was splattered all over the dance floor. Love is Stranger, Sisters are doing it for themselves, Miracle of Love with Sex Crime to follow. On and on went the music. Dancing Queen came next, pandemonium on the dance floor. The Music Basket was an utter utter success. The owner of the club immediately gave Miles a 3 year contact.

As for Dave he discovered Spotify and all the other music that was on the 128 gig on the phone. Miles rung him and said would it be ok if he came by the next day. Miles arrived with several women in tow. They all wanted to meet the inspiration. They were a little surprised to see fat Dave and his untidy house, but once they started to talk music they were totally smitten. The women were Lesbians who loved to dance when they were not running several house and office cleaning companies. So as they talked music with fat Dave they cleaned and polished. Two hours of dancing later the was immaculate. And Dave was gently glowing.

Obviously they all became firm friends. So fat Dave has a succession of very pretty girls coming to his house to talk and dance to music while they cleaned. Miles went from strength to strength with his what’s in the basket routine. Fat Dave’s neighbours were jealous and one old lady called the Police and said he was living off immoral earnings. Some people are evil that way.

A Police Inspector arrived, but he understood, in fact he was gay and knew all about Miles and his basket and how it had all happened as Miles had met fat Dave on the way to the Charity shop. So the Lesbian cleaning company owners added the Police Inspector’s house to their list of contracts. In actual fact they ended up cleaning Police headquarters too, its an ill wind that blows no good after all.

Miles was livid when he heard the story and that’s how he met the Police Inspector, as they say an Inspector Calls, so Miles and Trevor became a couple, I won’t make any comments about handcuffs either. Dave was happy with his new Lesbian cleaner friends but what with all the cleaning he lost a lot of weight. So fat Dave was introduced to a North Korean Cheerleader girl, who wasn’t a Lesbian. And they married and had 7 children each more beautiful than they next.

Obviously Miles did the music and Trevor sorted the parking out, there were 1000 guests after all. And instead of gifts there was an empty wicker basket, and cash was put in it. Dave with not want the money nor did his North Korean Cheerleader Bride. Instead all the money was donated to the local children’s charity.

God works in mysterious ways, Dave made new friends for life after he’s lost his wife. Then through his cleaners he met a new wife. Miles had a life long arresting experience too. So look to the stars everybody.

     


Saturday, 31 March 2018

TO READ El carnicero, el panadero y Undertaker © Por Michael Casey

https://michaelgcaseyfrombirminghamengland.wordpress.com/

https://michaelgcaseyfrombirminghamengland.wordpress.com/

El carnicero, el panadero y Undertaker © Por Michael Casey  







Standing Out

Standing Out ©
By
Michael Casey

I was checking my reader figures this morning as I do every day, and I noticed a comment, which can also be spam advertising, from South America perhaps. So they liked a post, a sample in Spanish. I checked out their name and email, and it was fake. However the name used referred to tattoos and Ra tattoos at that, I even learnt the Spanish for tattoo. The name associated referred to a Mafia family turned Peacemakers. So who says I need any imagination if I get comments like this. It’s probably all fake, not unless in some Jail in some country they have stumbled over my writing.

But if you are really bad boys reading my stuff you could try reading all 1,280,000 Words of mine on a Kindle. It’s as if I am Joan Wilder in Romancing the Stone and the local gangster loves my stories. Well thank you all whoever you are, in jail or in a palace or whatever. And if you want to spend some of your billions before ICE or whoever catches up with you why not donate 30million GDP to Birmingham University so they can start that Pain Relief Centre. I’m all for turning swords into ploughshares. Maybe its the Jesuit in me, or I’ve read too much Don Camillo.

This is all the Prologue, a line of white stories to sniff as you have your coffee and buns, far healthier than any other substances we see in films. So why do we all want to stand out?To look hard, or to look soft, or just to be naked if you are a nudist. I suppose its because we want to have a family, we can chose our friends but not our family. But we can chose a family of friends, a gang or cohort if you know a posh word. So do we chose friends or do they chose us.

I suppose a writer if I’m being really stuck up my own, you can insert the word of your choice, a writer observes more and joins in less. But your life can make you an observer, you are the lookout, or the ICE surveillance guy. Or the priest at the church door counting the sinners in. But we all need love, sex and love are different, once your hormones quieten down you will discover this. We find love by romance, by joining a choir, or a football team, or the army or a street gang. Love in the broadest sense of the word, not sex, love, the kind where you’d die for buddy in the army, or in the street gang, or even for the other members in your Punk Rock band.

We all want to stand out, just a little bit, so we are not just grains of sand on a beach, all so the same. We want to be different, we want to stand out. We have to wear school uniforms, or I’m at college uniforms, ripped jeans and a top with a large coat stolen from granddad. We want to be different from our day to day existence, to show we have personality especially if we have none. So be being in a band, musical or not, so by making noise together, we find ourself a home where we want to be, because our real home may be a prison.

Then if you are a naughty boy your home in the gang can lead to prison, a real prison where you spend your time getting inked up, and all because you wanted to stand out from the boring crowd in your village. Life is not fair is it? I have my own tattoo as big as a A3 piece of paper, it’s a brown birthmark on my shoulder, all overgrown in hair now. Maybe that’s why my bothers and sisters used to say I was born under a cow, because of my cowpat birthmark on my shoulder, which makes me stand out.

Now as today is Holy Saturday 31stMarch 2018 I though I’d finish by saying this, just in case you really are those Egyptian Eye tattooed people from South America, thank you for today’s spark which led to this piece. Remember Easter is all about Peace and rebirth, so try not to kill anybody anymore. And yes do donate money to Pain Relief Centres anywhere in the world. Because in the end ICE or rather the cold of death comes to everybody.

How do you want to be remembered? With fear in the eyes of those who see you or with love? Jesus had his own gang, his own posse, today Holy Saturday Jesus is dead, but tomorrow and every day he is alive with Love for all of us. Even me, even you. All tattoos will be washed away and naked we’ll all be judged, Heaven would be so much more fun with YOU, yes YOU inside teaching the angels dance moves. And if you are very very lucky you’ve never get to meet me, ever, and how great would that be?    










HOPE a piece from 5 years ago

Hope(c)
 By
 Michael Casey

I've just watched Star Trek again, the film version by JJ Abrams. I really enjoyed it, especially the fact that Spock gets the girl. It was an exciting film, and most of all it was about Hope.

Yes HOPE, without hope we are nothing. Without Hope we are no better than animals or insects even. Small and Nothing. Hope is love, it is future, hope is our smile. A man, a great man once said Pray, Hope and Don't worry. His name was Padre Pio, I believe it was him who saved my dad's life back in 1996 you can read Padre Pio and Me on my  timeline.

I hope I pass that exam, I hope that girl notices me, I'm too shy to talk to her. I hope he notices me. Our whole life direction can start or stop, all because of hope.  Or lack of hope, and perhaps courage. It takes courage to take that 1st step, putting yor feeling out there. To be accepted or rejected in an instance.

If accepted you go forward slowly. If rejected you go away and cry maybe. But that's where Hope comes in, without Hope you just want to stay in bed and give up. You have to shake yourself and start again, and again, and again and again. No matter how many times it takes for you to have your confidence back.

Hope should always be in your heart, even if you feel destroyed you have to gather your spirits up and try again. Or if you are very lucky you stand by the fridge after you have got home and look at your dead mother's photo. Then you make a prayer. Always  remember to pray, even when you cannot pray because all Hope seems to have been swept away. You just pray, hope and don't worry. Even if your only prayer is "teach me to pray."

There is always hope, I was talking to somebody recently, and I hope they read this and take it to heart. You may be flat on your back in the gutter, and I've been there too, but you can look up at the stars, misusing Oscar Wilde's quote. All of us can get up off our back and start again. I'm smiling now, why? Because I have a bad back which is a life changing thing for me. My path has to be different from now on.

My path I hope is writing, writing for Radio and Film too, if I'm lucky and if I pray hard enough. Even if it's not, I'll still write at   https://michaelgcaseyfrombirminghamengland.wordpress.com  and even if nobody ever reads my words I'll still write. Because I have Hope. I've had Hope these past 26years.         I have a family now, all because of Hope.

So never give up or give in, sometimes you have to give yourself a kick up the backside, just as sportsmen do. Wind yourself up like clockwork and get back on that horse. Get back to that sewing machine, get back to the classroom, or back to driving that taxi. Whatever it is do it, just do it.

Go look at my photos, see how silly I look. If I can talk to you the way I'm talking to you   right now then how much better are your true friends. I'm not here to inspire you, go inspire yourself. Have a rest tonight, and in the morning start over, each day is fresh, straight out the fridge if you like.

So make yourself a fresh new creation, every single day.

Michael

******

its's 30/3/2018 now tonight I wanted to write a new piece but I'm too tired and 5 years on my back is playing up again/still. I wanted to be clever and write about Despair/Hope as tomorrow is Holy Saturday, if you like Jesus is dead, so how must everybody have felt. Utter despair, they were not sure that Easter would come. So I thought I could squeeze in a bit of writing to add to the 1,280,000 words or so. So the obvious theme would be Hope/Despair but as I checked for Titles, so I don't use same name for a new piece of writing. I've written 1300 to 1600 individual stories now, hence I check. Anyways I spotted this so I thought I'd load an old piece up and the maybe in the morning I'd write a new piece. I was at Mass via the Internet today so thanks to them, its amazing what you an find if you just look.
The clock has just struck Midnight so I'll finish, the wife is watching Silence of The Lambs in the other room, I may just try and make her scream on my way to bed.






mum's birthplace in Cromane Lower Kerry Ireland

Friday, 30 March 2018

Unshaved Profile 30th March 2018



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

michaelgcasey

My blogs

About me

Gender MALE
Industry Arts
Occupation Humour Writer of 1,275,000+ Words spread over 30 years like butter, ok I'm just a housewife really, who writes while the breadwinner and kids are at work and school
Location Birmingham in England, https://www.amazon.com/MichaelCasey/e/B00571G0YC, United Kingdom
Links Audio Clip, Wishlist
Introduction I'm from Birmingham England, Don't confuse me with the Monk, or the Dublin guy or even the USA guy, all of the SAME name. They are NOT me, I did get 21,000 Polish readers in 3 weeks just by word of mouth when I put a Translation on my site. So join them and read my stuff. Prose is so pretentious, I write stuff. Good stuff, judging by the reader numbers. I STILL HAVE TO BE Discovered or Disinfected one or the other, As I am not on Anti-Social Media. List of my 15Books, written by me, Michael Casey The fat silver haired writer in shades. from Birmingham. 1.The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker 2.Shoplife 3.Essays and Plays 4.Blogs 2011 5.300 and Not OUT 6.Shorts 2013 7.More Shorts 2014 8.Quick Stories 9.Still Alive 2015 10.Undiscovered Words 2016 11.Still Smiling 2017 12.Altogether Now 13.New Horizons 14.14 Up 15.15 Down *********** I've gone past 1,251,000 words now 10 Feb 2018 please buy a book as I have 2 teenage daughters and the bill for the shower is massive. my sites are these:- The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker, Michael Casey from Birmingham England, michaelgcasey cartoons made with words
Interests Writing, watching films on tv with my girls. I'm from Birmingham England, Don't confuse me with the Monk, or the Dublin guy or even the USA guy, all of the same name. I am clean shaven. They are NOT me, I write Humour. I have written 1, 275, 000+ that's OVER ONE MILLION WORDS now https://michaelgcaseyfrombirminghamengland.wordpress.com/ it can translate just click on square in top right corner ******** List of my 15Books, written by me, Michael Casey The fat silver haired writer in shades. 1.The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker 2.Shoplife 3.Essays and Plays 4.Blogs 2011 5.300 and Not OUT 6.Shorts 2013 7.More Shorts 2014 8.Quick Stories 9.Still Alive 2015 10.Undiscovered Words 2016 11.Still Smiling 2017 12.Altogether Now 13.New Horizons 14.14 Up 15.15 Down my sites are these:- The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker, Michael Casey from Birmingham England, michaelgcasey cartoons made with words
Favourite Films Its a Wonderful Life, RED & Red2, Hot Fuzz, Star Trek films, The Quiet Man, and good Thrillers, Link is to 1950s Don Camillo film in English. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wLf6VQyJJkE
Favourite Music Everything, I almost carried Eric Clapton's bag when I worked at a hotel 15+ years ago. CPNEC Bham. I did make him smile when I said my wife drove a Skoda. I like JMJarre. Annie Lennox, Clapton. Amazon has my books if you hack through the jungle
Favourite Books Don Camillo, The Book Thief, The Daily Telegraph and most online newspapers, Even the Guardian. Amazon has my books if you hack through the jungle

Thursday, 29 March 2018

Good Friday 2018

Good Friday 2018 (c)
By Michael Casey

If I were clever I would write about Jesus on the Cross and his sacrifice. I'd compare my own aches and pains to his, and say I was an utter fool for doing so.  How could I compare myself to the Lord. No doubt some would burn me at the stake just for even mentioning such an idea even though it was just a passing thought, a half whispered muse, not even a thought.

That's the trouble with Religion, or rather People who abuse religion, all religion. Why, just so they can lie and cheat and steal their way to the top in the name of religion. Or rather their abuse of Power.

Jesus was all about that, all about showing up the lies and hypocrisies, and as in Winter Song, he got busted for befriending the wrong sort. So why is Good Friday good, because it wipes the slate clean and we can all try again.

You can find all sorts of people suffering on their own crosses, and the ugly sweaty dirty people may be the best Christians you will ever find. They may not wear the flash clothes and have the ultra bright teeth like American Evangelists have. They may not have the gift of fancy words and their only language may be foul bad language. But you may just find that these people the kind Jesus would hang out with are better people than the well educated smart people.

Give me a cursing drinking bad man, because he'll give you a lift in the desert. He'll help you when you are down and almost out.  He'll help you out of pity. Whereas the Rich man  the clever man, would only help you if he thinks there is something in it for him.

See Jesus in the common man, see Jesus hanging from a tree, in the ordinary people you meet like you and me. You don't need to look to high heaven to learn about Peace and Goodwill to all men. Peace comes from a stranger you meet on a bus, who listens when you need a friend to talk to but have none. Peace comes after all your pain when you realise though horrible, some people's valour puts you to shame.

So over Easter as you over indulge on the Cadbury's chocolate, and for some Easter justs means chocolate and not Jesus on a cross, so over Easter remember after death comes rebirth.

So every day is Easter, it's a chance for you and me to get closer together and put our sins and pain to one side and walk with Jesus into the Light of happiness and sharing and caring,

For when we have Faith, and it can be any faith, or just working men cursing each other, because deep down we are all sisters and brothers. So we should love one another.
 





Love and Chocolate from 2003 before our 2nd daughter arrived

Michaelgcasey@hotmail.com   13/june/2003


The child in me , was always there , but the child in me is the child of mine fast asleep in the rocking chair . Her mum fast asleep beside her , another child swims around inside my wife’s belly waiting for his call to centre stage when he is ready to appear . So though I want to stay a child its time for me to grow up , but I decided I won’t . I’ll stay a child too , I’ll be a big kid , a 40 something big kid . Why waste my life being all grown up , I want to enjoy childhood forever and that is what I’ll teach my kids . Be a child forever , refuse to grow up , be a kid forever . Its more fun that way , why give up chocolate and pop ,just for grown up beer or wine and just an occasional treat . I know what tastes better , its pop and Cadbury’s , so I refuse to grow up . If I encourage my children to do the same then they’ll always have that quality that’ll make them different , more interesting than the bland “grown up “ qualities of adults , the pretend attitudes , the hidden lusts . Just be open and natural , that’s what I believe in and I hope my children will follow this example . Sure I want them to be clever and go to  great universities and even win a Nobel Prize , but the greatest prize is a family love , a simple , perhaps even naïve love , which is based on the love of pop and chocolate .





Portuguese Translations

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...