Buenos Noches a Peru

Buenos Noches a Peru,

Lo sineto es 43 anos desde el exam de espagnol, es mucho mas facile hablar que escribir, peus Lo siento. yo ha utilizr Google por un traducion de The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker. es Bueno  que todo el mundo leyer mis palabas, en Korea, en India, en Brazil, end USA en Alamania, en Francia.

Pero, nadie persona me de ni un penny, no recibir nada.

Pues quando uste terminar leyando mis palabra va a la radio y habla a ellos, hay un escritor de quentos comicos desde Birmingham Inglaterra, gordo con la Cabeza blanco/ sileverado con ocos con Shades.

Peus, por fin yo ganyar un peso for mi famila.

Habla a toda la famila de Peru.

San Martin de Porres es mi nombre de confirmation, San Martin de Porres es un amigo de mi famila desde 50 anos. Es verdad.

Tengo un medallion de san martin de porres en la bibliotecha desdas, de mi computer acqui.

Por fin quando ustedes va a la iglesia por mesa hablar a San Martin de Porres por auydar mi corozon y  por mi santa general.

Gracias a Peru, no oblivar hablar a tu familia en el resto de America de Sud.

Thanks for your time, I could have google translated the above but I hope it’s better if I bother to try my bad Spanish instead, so forgive me for that,

Leyer Don Camillo es muy Bueno.

otras peliculas Tambien.

Michael Casey

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wLf6VQyJJkE

10th aug 2018 morning all

10th aug 2018 morning all

Well I'm in pain and yes I'm boring you all already, but like I said if you all just donate to Arthritis Research, and fund a Pain Clinic then I'll just put a giant P in the corner and not mention it any more.

P for example.

now back to the plot, as if there is any plot any time, it's just fun for both of us I hope.

Unknown region Hello to you, you may have been the same folks who left a comment on my Wordpress that later disappeared. I half spotted it disappear at 4am when I had to get up up for an hour due to the pain. Yes I really do keep these strange hours.

Hello to South Korea too, you are reading The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker in Korean, but I've also had readers all over the world read translations, in addition to the 21,000 readers in Poland in 3 weeks for the finale of the story. So all I need is a publisher to pick me up, I'll be standing on the street corner wearing Leder Hosen if I've spelt that right, maybe my German readers will correct me.

It's nice to see that I'm corrupting the world everywhere. My daughter spotted that cartoon on her computer stuff so I've shared it with you all. Satire is a great thing. My workmates drew a cartoon of me as Shakespeare, 30 years ago, a pity I still haven't got it. But hello to Mark Alder if he's reading this, or even Debbie his cousin.

I'm happy you are all reading the 500 to 600 pieces of stuff I've left littered on my 4 sites, this is the main one (BBU) the other 3 are copy sites. It also means my babies are safe in cyberspace.

Just remember to spread the word, like a disease ,and maybe North Korea and Iran will feature my stories on their version of Listen with Mother. I have to live in hope, or maybe the astronauts in space read my stories out, just like in The Spaceman and the ArchAngel story I wrote a while back. It's hard to keep track of all the stories, they are I suppose a kind of diahorrea of dysfunctional words left here and there like an unhouse trained puppy.

Did Wordsworth speak of his stuff in such a manner? A  cartoon would be so much better, that's why my backup site is called Cartoons made from Words.

Well that's all for now, hello to the mouth organist if he's strayed over here, but I think not, he has his crochet to do, after being grounded.

TTFN , google Around the Horne and listen to that instead of reading me, not unless you intend perhaps buying a book or 16.

Michael Casey the fat silver haired writer in shades from Birmingham, the one in England

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

And Tonight's Talk Is

And Tonight’s Talk Is ©

By

Michael Casey

Well I went to the shop and came home happy with some nice apples, our regular ones have a different skin taste, so we had to abandon them, we don’t peel apples here in England. So we have other juicy apples to keep us happy, as well as bananas which I love too. What’s this got to do with anything? I don’t know but who knows when we get to the bottom of the page, place your bets now. I got home happy as I managed to fix my computer with the Fresh start option. So life was a full fruit bowl, in passing you do know of course in some cultures they eat their fruit very very ripe, almost putrid in fact.

Then the iron curtain of pain fell, I had to hang up on my brother as I needed to lie down, so I’ve had a nap and a bite to eat. I did start watching Pierce Brosnan’s 007 but after Daniel Craig he doesn’t look tough enough any more, more pantomime that 007. In passing one of our Polish neighbours looks like a very young Daniel Craig, he had his shirt off in all the heat and my other neighbour a lady almost swooned.

Which brings me to tonight, 9^th August 2018, I spoke earlier in the day about a lodger who was like an uncle to me, it’s 38 years ago today since he died on the bus coming home from his riding holiday. Then tonight I was going to sit here and speak about Casting Bread on the Water, however when I checked my titles list I discovered an old piece which I just scanned and thought was nice, so I had already covered that ground. So I come to the table empty handed but at least the pain has subsided for the day.

So what do you do when plan A is no good, nor plan B, so you improvise with plan C. Rather like me talking to you tonight, I’m listening to Vangelis playing some Oriental music, yes I’m padding as I muse what will amuse you. However it has made me think of another idea, and that is, are we ever ready for anything? Were you ready for work this morning or did you spill milk over your trouser or skirt, so you had to grab a 2^nd garment? Or you’d have gone to work in your long-johns or frilly knickers which look like a shoe lace with a tiny handkerchief attached.

So how do you react to being shamed, as in when you spill milk over yourself at that important meeting? Do you say you have just bought a new washing machine so you want a full 10Kilo load to test it out. When you get home you’ll strip naked in front of the washing machine and watch it spin round and around, just as Totoro your cat does. And then you get back to giving your presentation to the Japanese, they love Tototo so you have covered up your mishap wonderfully.

Life is all about improvising, being quick or dead. Having worked lots of night shifts in Birmingham city centre in the days when every night I had to pass through one of the most dangerous underpasses there was, 40 years ago, I knew how to stay alert. In the actual computer room when kit fails you had to improvise too,40 years ago computers used to fail. I’m talking about the days when a disc drive was as big as a washing machine, not one digit on your finger. When DEC PDP 1170s were as big as wardrobes and had toggle switches and light at the front, just like in very very old Dr. Who.

So improvising in a computer room, or in my days at the hotel, CPNEC Birmingham, you just had to be able to cope. You would finish your shift covered in sweat, good job you had two sets of uniform. People can be stupid or too busy talking so a toddler gets its head stuck in a revolving door. My own kids were toddlers back then so I was child aware and watched out for such things. Sadly in real life parents can be too busy on the phone so the kids suffer, or so stupid taking selfies they fall off buildings.

Coping is a strange thing, some people can switch to emergency mode and do all that is needed, and only afterwards breakdown and cry. Like me when another of our lodgers died via heart attack right in font of me, just after I’d got out of bed after a night shift. Our emergency services and armed forces train and train and train again so they can protect and serve as it says on the badge in USA. And thank God for them all.

So you must understand that people doing stressful jobs have to let off steam, I of course dress as a woman and go to bars to see how many compliments I get. Others just sit and watch tv, as they eat all the fruit from the fruit bowl. So you can understand the screams and shouts if there is no fruit in that fruit bowl. Not everybody is bananas, despite what you say behind my back, you bunch of grapes you. Apples are rosy and so should your complexion be. Oranges are not the only fruit, and being squirted in the eye is no fun, but if the tangerines are perfect it really is a dream, a tangerine dream. Figs are good and can become your reason d’etre if they help keep you cool. When all is said an done a bowl of fruit is our very life, colourful and sometimes hard to unpeel, but crunchy or soft, or juicy trickling everywhere, without this fruit inside us we would break the bowl we call this earth, and all would shatter, no glass ceilings, just broken glass in space.  

9th August 1980

9th August 1980
say a prayer for a friend, an uncle, a lodger

one of our lodgers died 38 years ago, he was a single man from Killybegs Donegal.

he was a friend and an almost uncle to me. So I still remember him, he had no family and we sent his body Home for burial. He died  on the bus  on the way home from his riding holiday. I knew him for the first 20 years of my life or so.

So say a prayer for him, and all those in need of a prayer. My mother used to be the sole mourner when an unclaimed corpse was buried  and the priest would ask her to go to the grave with him. Then the undertaker would give her a lift home. And that is where some of the ideas for the Undertaker in my novel The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker come from.

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

Dealing with a Salesman

michaelgcasey Uncategorized 08/08/2018 3 Minutes

Dealing with Salesmen ©
By
Michael Casey
We had a salesman touting for business in the street, now this is such an open goal as far as I am concerned. It’s like sweets left unattended, do you think they’ll last in our house, in any house? Yes today’s guy was Irish in his black shirt, like a Country and Western star, or Johnny Cash. So I told him he looked like a priest, with the collar off, if he’s reading this now he can verify it. He said he was from Clare, so I said it did not matter, and did he not know that Kerry was the best county. Ask any Kerryman they will agree, oh and yes my parents were Kerry people.

The trick with salesmen is not to let them talk, just talk over them, and keep on talking. Don’t listen to them, just keep on talking over them. And go on a sidetrack, if he’s selling double glazing tell him to buy your house instead, then he won’t have to travel so much as he blitzes the area with his double glazing. And go on and on and on, Obama couldn’t keep up with my soaring rhetoric, maybe I should just be a politician and keep on talking nonsense BS, but then maybe my hands are just too small, even though my hair is so nice and silvery.

This really is a blood sport, me activating the nuclear BS option, but then again, salesmen deserve it. If you come to my door, this is what you’ll get. Or if I’m busy picking my nose I might open the door and bless the cold caller and slam the door in their face. A warning though if you hunt in packs, if you are these mad “religious” zealots who think no blood transfusions is God’s will and hand out their rubbish, saying it’s an “invitation”. Firstly me and millions would be dead without blood transfusions, their idea belongs to no God I would recogise.

So if you bang on my door, a vampire will appear, with tomato ketchup dripping down from my mouth. Yes, I will answer, you came to give me a donation? I’ll lick my lips like Hannibal Lector, taking their hand firmly, as firm as a Donald Trump handshake. I’ll scrunch up their rubbish as I sniff their hand, which I’ll then begin to lick. As fear and un-comprehension rises on their face, I’ll scream I’m Bad, I’m Bad, and you are SAD, and laugh like Vincent Price.

Usually that does the trick, I never get the likes of mad “religious” people ever again. If you believe in Death, don’t ever come near me, just leave me alone, as Michael Jackson used to sing. I have zero tolerance for their ilk. And just in case you think I’m joking I am not, however if you are a little old lady that wants a chat at the bus stop then you can have all the time in the world, as Armstrong sung.

Life is short, and I’m very lucky I had my quadruple heart bypass, so I’m not going to waste a second, and despite knowing I’ll still have lots of pain to some degree, maybe 50% of the time, I want to have some fun. And door to door salesman are an easy target. Sometimes it’s fun to hear them talk, but I’ll boast now, I can out talk anybody, and as you all know, I have a PhD in BS. What are you reading after all, it’s top quality Trumpian level of story telling, it all depends who you believe? And who would you prefer to open the door to?

Pilgrimage written in 2013

 michaelgcasey  Uncategorized  08/08/2018 5 Minutes

Pilgrimage©

By Michael Casey

Our first avowed intent, to be a Pilgrim, so the song or should I say hymn goes. Pilgrimage is what you make of it, I can only speak for what I know as a catholic with a small c. Other Faiths with a capital F go on Pilgrimage too,  it’s part of their Faith. A Pilgrimage IS a thing of joy, I’ve been to Lourdes 3 times myself, each time was fun.

In 1966 we all went as a family on the train to Lourdes, it’s a very long journey, and along the way we had a misadventure. We stopped somewhere and dad said he’s buy us all a small bottle of pop, this was before plastic bottles were invented, so he asked for 8 bottles. The train consisted of the Birmingham Pilgrimage, 400 people or more. Once the vendor had passed the bottles through the window he asked for the payment in Francs, that’s when Francs still existed. The price was sky high as the vendors had a captive audience so to speak, so dad said “bollocks” and handed them all back. Dad handed back 7, the vendor asked where was the 8th, an argument ensued,  the vendor came on the train to search the compartment. He searched and searched and condemned us all, the whole Birmingham Pilgrimage took umbrage. The 8th bottle must have been handed back already. The train pulled off, the Birmingham Pilgrimage loads of people gave the finger to the vendor as the train pulled away. Very Holy of them all, people came and shared their drinks with us, united we stand. Us kids ranged in age from 16,14,12,11,7 and 3 oh I remember it all, just as Maurice Chevalier would. Half an hour later mum shifted from her corner position.   A miracle the 8th small glass bottle of pop  was revealed, she had been sitting on it. So it was drunk and the evidence was thrown out the window.  So father forgive us and the entire Birmingham Pilgrimage 1966.

We stayed in hotel Biarritz which was  very good, I remember it was said, I also remember dad reminding us years later that the priest said enjoy the first meal. The other meals that week, we did not like, it was French food, why couldn’t it be English food, it was 1966 remember. Nobody had an experienced palate 47 years ago, was it really that long ago, yes it was. My younger sister would not take off her anorak, just like in East is East . She was bought a wind up toy, a rabbit that clashed cymbals, she loved it, until we got home and the head fell off, but still crashed cymbals.

All this is part of the Pilgrimage experience, and yes we had to eat outside the hotel, so it was a week of baguettes, we took a knife from the hotel with us, we had baguettes and butter or should I say beurre  every day, I forgot to say we put bananas in them to make them filling. Eight of us wandering around like the Von Trappe family, eating baguettes and beurre, I can still see dad in his habitual sports coat.

Lourdes really is a special place, you get up and after breakfast, we did like the rolls, after breakfast you go to Mass, then you wander around till dinner time, after that the afternoon procession where you sing hymns in many languages. Then you wander around till dinner, then after dinner the absolute best bit as far as kids are concerned, The Torchlight Procession in the Dark. You cannot imagine just how exciting this is for a kid, in the dark with a candle in a foreign language in a foreign land. This was before ½ the family became bilingual, was Lourdes the spark for Linguistics in our family. The Ave Maria IS the most touching of hymns, candles and prayers, we loved it.

Lourdes is  holy water, so you drink the water by the gallon and you can even bathe in it. They have giant candles too as big as a man, it’s like a  furnace as you walk past and pray, for dad who worked in a furnace it was a home from home.  Does the Pilgrimage magnify Faith, yes it does, it is a great big adventure, I was 7 not quite 8 at the time. I remember racing against the lift by running and bouncing down the stairs next to it, I think I won. We bought a giant plastic container and filled it with Holy Water to bring back and share, it must have held 15 pints if you compare the size to a modern milk bottle. We had it in the front bedroom at home for years. So those are my 1966 memories.

In 1981 that’s 15 years later I returned to Lourdes, this time just me and my sister, I had promised to take her to France if she passed her A levels, she did so I took her to Lourdes, it was our mum’s idea because we couldn’t decide which past of France. She didn’t have an anorak this time, we had a great time. We were adopted by a Manchester group as we had not joined any parish Pilgrimage, so we tagged along with them for Masses and processions. We are even on their group photo, they even had a flag bearer, “I wondered what belly button was for, it’s for flag pole” said one man. I still have that photo which is 32 years ago now. Now Lourdes is a special place, the priest with the group was called Fr. MacKarty, we got talking, as you do, it turned out our uncle Danny in Kerry used to steal his bicycle and ride it, Fr. MacKarty had a bike and nobody else did at the time, this must have been in the 1930s. So what are the chances of that happening?

We also found a great café where we had croche monsieur and croche madame, which are egg sandwiches or something, which we loved. We found the Irish hotel too, which meant we’d go there for a sing song and a beer after the torchlight procession, before going home to our own hotel. There’s also a trip to a lake where you are almost in Spain, and we went on a paddle boat there. I nearly forgot another trip takes you to a bridge, where legend says if you walk over that bridge you will get pregnant.

All in all lots to do when you are not just praying. I did go to Lourdes again in 1990. You may think I’m not being serious about Pilgrimage, if I wrote about just Prayer nobody would read this. We each make a daily Pilgrimage every day in every way we pray and hope in our daily life. Life is a journey, and as we make that journey we bring our prayers with us, we pray for this and we pray for that. WE may even want something and think it wrong to pray for it, should I pray for a nice house and finally to make a living as a full time writer? Please God don’t, some of you may be screaming at the computer as you read it. Isn’t it enough  he bores us with these blog or his shorts as he calls them.

A Pilgrimage is a hope, it’s a sign of piety and love, it’s us giving in and asking God to take over and help us, but   let his will be done. One final thing for those of you who don’t pray much or can’t find the right words, who don’t know how to pray, you are praying already, for what did Saint Francis of Assisi say  Labore est Orare, to Work is to Pray.

8 8 18 an almost lucky day

8 8 18  an almost lucky day.

I can remember 10 years ago the madness for 8 8 8 in the Chinese community, it was all over world news.

so as today is 8 8 18 I may try a lottery ticket.

I discovered my dream house is still for sale, even though it said sold.

so if I win the lottery I'd buy this, its the right price now for the area it is in, it was overpriced before for the past 6 months.

It's more likely I fall over in the heat than win this house, but it all started in an old people's home so if I ended up buying a former old people's home, that would be poetic. So cross those fingers and hope 8 8 18 is my lucky day.

A quick hello to India who have been looking at my site, BBU is  about in part an Indian corner shop guy and his friends on a street of shops, lots of comedy, with an explosive ending....

https://www.rightmove.co.uk/property-for-sale/property-65833678.html