Nights in Malta

Nights in Malta ©

By Michael Casey

Before I start I should tell you I had a great week in Malta in 2013 and I long to return, even though it was there that my Arthur my Arthritis started to hit home. I was overjoyed that I could buy Deep Heat in Malta. Now its 4 years on and my unplanned quadruple heart bypass has overtaken me. I was told it was a triple but it was a quadruple I discovered 6 months later.

My cKd needs to be watched too, I’m telling you all this so that you can understand just how important it is to me that I can WRITE, its food for my Spirit even if you lot like it or not. So now I’m going to share part of a story that’ll become part of a chapter in Tears for a Butcher my full length sequel to The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker.

Now read on and apologies to Navy Seals everywhere, please don’t leave a horse’s head in my bed, a Subway one foot long sandwich would be better……

So it was all true, Tiny wasn’t mad or just battled out at all, he really was a seer, he saw it all the time, but when he wrote that picture in pencil and crayon the Admiral had to make a decision, so Tiny was grounded, his flippers taken away. So that’s when he became a bodyguard for that zillionaire’s old mum, lucky for there he was there he had to take care of her. He was more like a son to her, and that’s why she always wears a scarf, somebody got to her, before Tiny got to them. It covers the scar.

So what happened in Malta? Well Ester made a friend with this Irish woman in Birmingham, the one in England. You know how she likes to have real friends not people sucking up to her son, or trying to get a foot in the door. So when she heard about the triple birth, that was impossible, you’ll have to ask a gyno doctor to explain it. Anyhow Ester prayed like crazy, as only a Jew can pray. And her friend prayed like only an Irish Catholic can. But most of all Rita in Malta who was Mrs Murphy’s friend she prayed like only the Maltese can pray, and after what they put up with from those Nazi SOBs in the war they know how to pray.

So these triplets were born in Birmingham, in their Dudley Road hospital. And it was impossible, I can’t explain everything as we haven’t got the time. But it turns out that Rita’s son was the lead gyno  doctor. He had renounced his Faith went his dad had died and he with all his medical knowledge could not save him. But when the triplets were born they each had a Maltese cross birthmark on their shoulder. Mrs Murphy and Rita had met and done a deal, if one helped her friend have a child, just one pregnancy, then Mrs Murphy would pray that her son came back to the Faith.

So Almighty God killed two birds with one stone. He sure did, then Ester jumped out of the shadows, she’d flown non stop from Vegas just to be there. Everybody was so excited, Mrs Murphy was crying because she had not kept her side of the bargain. Then the doc revealed himself and it came out that he was Rita’s son. He was an old bachelor, but his nurse had loved him for years. You’re having me on, no for sure, Almighty God was settling all the scores in one day.

So they decided to go back to Malta immediately and marry before his old mother died. Only the French air traffic control were on strike, those SOBs are always on strike. So Ester through a bitchy fit, she got Tiny to press the red button on his phone. 14 satellites bleeped and the War Room went to condition amber. He son makes all the military satellites, its a bit like chipping your dog, but with Norad answering.

So to keep it short, a Nato war game was interrupted and 4 assault and recovery helicopters descended on down town Birmingham. Took the doc and his crew to Birmingham airport. They put the helicopters on the K734ASD plane and headed for Malta with F15 tomcats as escort. That Zillionaire really loves his mum, and the Joint Chiefs of staff love her too. Mrs Murphy did insist on visiting the duty free at the airport, it frightened a few people, Special Forces ambling through the duty free. But Mrs Mrs Murphy did insist on getting Rita and the soon to be newly weds a few presents. One of the forces chatted up the girl at the checkout and , well that’s another story.

My that’s a busy story. It ain’t finished, Ester’s son rang to hire the entire Hilton, only he got suspicious of their tone of voice. So he brought up the Hilton on 3 of his satellites. The Mafia were holding a meeting at the Hilton. When Tiny and the Special forces were informed they just smiled and jump straight out of the plane and cleared the mafia from the Hilton, so it wasn’t a waste of a day as far as Special Forces were concerned.

So that’s the end? No. Everything went well and the doc married his nurse in Malta, Rita and Mrs Murphy were overjoyed. Ester’s poker club in Vegas were annoyed because Ester had left them so suddenly. So she set her phone up so that her Vegas friends could play poker against some old Maltese men.

It was then that it happened. One of the Mafia had been hiding in a cupboard and sprung out. It was a room full of people and kids too. Tiny was going to do his stuff and save everybody but he was afraid that some kids would get hurt by stray bullets. So he’d have to smother the Mafia guy, Tint would probably die, but everybody would be safe.

Ester looked at the statue of the Virgin Mary in the corner of the ballroom, us 2 Jews alone in a room full of Gentiles. Let it be me that dies, I’m old, let it be me not Tiny, he’s like a son to me, he never got that girl he dreamed about. He drew her picture on paper, so pretty, then all red in the left hand side of her face. Please Mary, as one Jew to another, save all these Gentiles.

My granny used to ask me to sing for her, why don’t you sing for me.

Ester stood up as requested by the only other Jew in the room, so Ester sung something all the Gentiles would love. She sung the Ave Maria, Ester sung the Ave Maria. One by one they all got up and defiantly sung the Ave Maria. The Mafia guy was astounded, a wall of sound, Phil Spector producing Ave Maria.

Tiny could see this might give him an edge,and he edged forward ready to leap, ready to save everybody. At that moment Ester’s  prayer was answered, Tiny got to see his girl, for a waitress entered through the far door. She was beautiful beyond compare, and on the left side of her face was a port wine stain birthmark. Now the girl had been teased all her life because of her mark of shame. But she too had had a vision, or rather a voice in a dream. A man from the sea will marry you, the bravest man in the world is the only one good enough for you.

At that moment Tiny saw his girl and they both knew the prophecy had been revealed. Would it all end in death. Both begged the Virgin to save the other, let them live even if they died. At that same time  the girl, Rose was her name, she grabbed a saucer and threw it like a frisbee hitting the Mafia guy on his adam’s apple. As he choked Tiny flew with Saint Michael the Archangel himself flapping his wings behind him. The Mafia guy was disarmed and bundled away.

So that explains why every Navy Seal in the service is heading for Malta. Its true, we had to ask the Commander in Chief for special permission. He only agreed when we told him that Rose knew Tiny’s service number, she had dreamed it all those years ago.

**********
I woke up today and as I listened to John Denver I thought I just had to bring back this story, which is perfect for a stand alone film, but is in actual act part of
Tears for a Butcher if ever I finally sit down and write it all, as if I had a speed typist, and Trump has sacked then all, then I could dash it off in 3 months.

Thanks.

 

without them I am nothing

Streisand and Celine

Streisand and Celine are singing so its a wave of emotion and diva tsunami of sounds, and yes I do like them. They enunciate so well as well. I'm just having a muse and a lazy afternoon. My computer went down yesterday so Windows 10 is restored now, thankfully I do take security seriously.

I'm wondering what should I talk about today, I did spot a girl walking in the street and as she passed just by her demeanour I had an idea. Just by looking. I had a lady dressed in hospital blues just knock on the door.

She spoke like a Pole, but she said she was Dutch.

Turns out she was a fire an brimstone lady handing out leaflets in multi lingual format.

So obviously I told her to go google me.

I took her pen and wrote michaelgcasey all over her leaflet
She was not pleased, you're writing all over my message she replied.

I'm going to throw it away I told her.

Leafleting is 3% effective, but maybe she does not know that. I was told this 30 years ago when I worked for a market research company.

As she left disgusted I told her, God is for Everybody. You  don't have a Monopoly.

She went away looking disgusted.

And that's my message for today, maybe more later.

Music is Joy and for everybody just like Streisand and Celine.

Or if you can't find them you can always read my rubbish instead, it too is for EVERYBODY.

K POP saves the world one year on

It's nice to know you ar all out there reading. South Korea has been busy reading my stuff too on the Wordpress site. So hello hello to them. I did not know there was another North/South meeting till I put the news on. So good luck to them. Nobody needs nukes.

so here's a piece of mine from a year ago

it was published in Korea Times online too.

K POP saves the World ©

By

Michael Casey

As I flagged yesterday I’ll write something about Pop Stars today, I’ve even changed my usual Font. I did think of one thing and then another, then I had a splat idea. Its the Jackson Pollock school of writing after all, as we lie in our beds the Angel of Death approaches, and the Dove of Peace is just a tiny tiny mustard seed in comparison. I am talking of the looming nuclear war in North Korea.

Read these two links before I resume, with a fresh coffee in my hand.

 http://www.msn.com/en-gb/news/world/north-korea-threatens-to-sink-japan-reduce-us-to-ashes-and-darkness/ar-AArUtCD?li=BBoPWjQ&ocid=mailsignout 

 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EzJvBgsFjvQ&list=RDEzJvBgsFjvQ&t=4 

The 1^st is a worrying news item,  the 2^nd is K Pop.

I’m listening to REM as they sing “Everybody Hurts” I’ve chosen their Automatic for the People album as the backdrop while I talk to you all. Sorry Justin and your Beavers I’m not going to mock you, you do a good enough job on your own. And Snoop you walk your own dog, Eminem go back to school, but Justin dear Justin, I taught you everything you know, now its time to use your 20/20 Vision.

Instead I want to talk about Music, if it be the food of love play on. I wish I could lip sinc the entire film Moulin Rouge as I love it so much. My favorite scene is where the black guy punches the count and save Nicole Kidman. But I digress as ever, but I have such great legs so I should be in a dress. So today’s idea is K Pop for Peace.

23 million people in North Korea are being led by somebody who could be a fat rapper, who has spent everybody’s 50cents on Nuclear Bling, who could poison his own country’s water supply when the mountain where the testing is done collapses around him. In the South everybody has everything, they even have FOOD. So what are we to do to avoid the 1^st Strike from USA, or a very close 2^nd strike if the Panzi, which is a Chinese word for Fat or Pig, tries to get in first. The Logic Of Madness, this is actually a simple concept if you put yourself in the shoes of the madman. This is where the madman kills everything he loves, such as his own family, and then everybody just cannot understand why. Sadly we see such cases in the newspaper from time to time.

The Dear Leader loves nobody, he is corrupt and just loves his own position. So why will he listen to say a fat guy with silver hair in shades from Birmingham? He has not looked in the mirror and changed, he has not had a road to Damascus experience, he has no Soul. He hacked our NHS, it was only saved by a young guy who is now in Jail in USA for something, its due in court soon. A comedy about North Korea, not very funny in the artistic sense resulted in Sony being hacked. People forget Koreans are very clever, even if just in the Military sense in the North.

So what are we to do?

Pack up all your troubles in your all kit bag and sing, yes sing. All you Rappers and hard men out there, why not sing for Peace. I dare you to have a Dream, like King and yes like Abba. Pop stars always say in answer to what is their one dream, world peace, that was until one DJ punched the pop star, be realistic the interviewer shouted.

So Snoop follow your dog’s lead, 50 Cents lend us a penny, no not for a pee, just show us your sparkle, and all the rest of you out there in Hard Man Wrapper Land. Your time has come. Ask not what your country can do for you, but what you can do for your country. And the answer is sing Take me Home Country Roads and all the John Denver hits. Yes, all you hard rappers out there, Sing Country. And may Buddy Rich rock and roll in his grave. As for all you gyrating girl singers there is room for you too, as I sit here talking to you Love Hurts plays again, so you Ladies can sing that and shake as only you can shake, while I finish my Lemonade.

Then here’s the clever bit track back from Sony to North Korea and let them hear the music. Let them have a Soul, let them dance. All of North Korea’s public address system is taken over by music. First the rappers singing country, they will be the storm troopers of love. Then Let the music sing let the music take over. Surround North Korea with K POP the only language they understand. From South Korea, from Japan and from China too, not forgetting a few Russians.

Constant K pop, the music of fun and laughter and very pretty girls, not forgetting Gangham Style. Broadcast at them on every radio frequency, on every IP address, take over the North Korean nuclear program with K Pop Music, and not forgetting Abba. The Dear Leader presses a button and all he gets is every tv and computer coming to life with K Pop, and then the population have something to really cry about.

Cry with happiness because K-Pop has saved them from the starvation of the spirit. This should be a cue for a Rapper to sing something good, but are any of you good enough? I’ll have a sip of lemonade while you reach for your dictionary. But I’m sure King would know what to say. Or do we just ask the King, Elvis to say a word now. Yes maybe Mr Gangham Style himself should start singing in the Ghetto. North Korea needs to leave  the Ghetto and enter the sunshine. Sing Rappers sing, Take me Home Country Roads, in Korean.

Carry On Shakespeare

Carry On Shakespeare ©

By

Michael Casey

As you know if you have been following me I did do a bit of Shakespeare, they can’t touch you for it, so long as your coupling rhymes, as Kenneth Williams might say. I also enjoy the Carry On films, though the Politically Correct Revisionists now view everything from today. History was then not now, if I might throw a bit of Philosophy into the cake mix, let’s see in 9 months how my buns in the oven turn out.

Because Shakespeare was so long, Kenneth don’t you say a word, so long ago, there are difficulties with language. You need to bone up on the lingo, as Bona Linguists from Round the Horne might interject. That’s the thing with language it has so many leanings, and your leanings can get you into trouble, not just with the trouble and strife. I hope this is all clear, and if it is not then just try Head and Shoulders.

Carry On started 60 years ago so the newspapers are saying, but Shakespeare was carrying on a very long time before that. So you need to know what all the carrying on means. What’s a codpiece for example? Go to your fishmongers and ask can you see his cod piece, he won’t be showing you his fish dinner. Sir Toby Belch, Falstaff and Co were heavy drinkers, in today’s parlance 17 pints of Stella Artois and one packet of cheese and onion crisps. Prince Hal did find his bar bill after all, while Falstaff lay snoring.

It is worth the effort trying to understand the language, read the play first, or watch the video then go visit the Globe, don’t just be the tourist. My small daughter has been twice to the Globe in London and she really enjoyed it. I just wish I could go, maybe if I just bring my commode to their abode. Just a thought, I certainly would give them measure for measure.

Now in today’s world what merit is Shakespeare? If you look or rather listen to the English Language you’ll realise all the phrases that Shakespeare gave birth too. He was a midwife to language, so we should thank him and laugh with him. He did serious stuff too, but I’ll let Me Dears explain it all to you, those thespians as Les Dawson would say as he rearranges his bosoms while  he is sat open legged in drag on a park bench. Shakespeare did a lot of cross dressing too, maybe that was why he put it in his plays, or he could have just been kinky, you’ll have to ask a Don, no not a Mafia Don, an Oxford Don, you are so silly as Ken might laugh.

Where was I, yes I was just taking off the wife’s knickers, I better put them back in her knicker drawer before she comes home. She gets mad if she catches me wearing her clothes, she claims I stretch them, the cheek of it, Lycra is supposed to stretch, I’m only 248 pound after all. Lighter than Barry White was, though I don’t think he ever wore his wife’s clothes, all that singing he was always getting it on, whatever that’s supposed to mean. 

I can understand Shakespeare but not 70s disco, I put my back out once on the dance floor, too much Barry White, I was escorting him to the bar and he  slipped and fell on the dance floor and landed on me. So I’m not as fond as him as I used to be.

Which brings me to Donald Trump, what would he be like in Shakespeare? Love is a many splendored thing, but forsooth the tan the tan, his hide has been tanned too much, take him back to the tannery. The bird is nesting in his hair, what manner of thing is that. Midas wants his bling back, bling back, bling back my Country to me. Let us bend on one knee for sanity.

A proclamation, a proclamation, bring me a scribe, bring me a codpiece full of proclamations, off with their head they cannot keep up with all my  proclamations. The pen and ink lies go kill all the scribes, empty the monasteries of the learned men. They know nothing, burn the books, burn the books, ask the cooks to cook the books, and let them drink their own soup of lies. Only my truth is truth for I am a king and dear, so please do not leer. Stop whispering to me, stop prompting me, for only I am a GOD.

The Modern Child

The Modern Child ©

By

Michael Casey

We hear a lot about kids in today’s world, the stresses and strains, I think I wrote a small piece about it a few weeks ago. I was talking to a neighbour and afterwards I thought I might talk a bit more to you all.

They say Saturday’s Child works hard for a living and so I do. But what of all our other kids whenever or however they were born. In the past we were hunted out by our parents, go out this fine day is what my own dad used to say. Or we’d go to the park and play on the witch’s hat and the swings and roundabouts in Summerfield Park. We might even explore the neigbouring roads where a real witch was supposed to live. We might even be tempted or double dared to knock on a witch’s door.

All these are the simple pleasures of yesterday year, my sister would read and read, and because she sat on top of the fire she ended up with the criss-cross marks of the fireguard on her legs. Or she’d sit over the pallin by Mrs Patrick’s hedge with the cat for company as she read. I too grew up reading by the yard. Then when we got a radio, the radio was king, and then when we got that Bush Radio, Radio4 came, and that after 20 years led me to writing.

But what of today’s kids? Its wifi everything, and in UK it is a Billion Pound industry, and over in Japan you can study games at University level as does the son of a friend in Osaka. But and you knew the but was coming, what happens then? People overdose on technology. I spent hours a day, and years to decades just talking to my dad. And it was because I tried to be a good son that all the time spent with my dad led to me finding a wife, when I could have ended up on the shelf with all the other spinsters.

So today we all have toys galore. I have one on the desk in front of me, an old phone that I’ve filled with music. So it’s useful to me as a music machine, not that I ever use the phone much. However our children and grandchilden ARE addicted. You can see a family together in a room who are not together at all. Physically they are in the same space but emotionally they are not connected at all. You know it’s true, so pause to think about it. Or families are islands floating in separate seas scattered like cushions in different places in different rooms.

Families don’t connect, not for real, the Oxo advert is just that an advert. So if the family is just a group of islands how can you expect unity, how can you have dignity or harmony. The child will just play on its wifi connected toys without any connection to mum or dad, or grannie, assuming grannie hasn’t been shoved into care to be ignored, and unloved.

A bleak picture? How true is it? How often do you talk to your kids, really talk, how often do you sit down as a family to watch tv together, not even once a week, or once a month. Ok, just at Christmas to impress the rich uncle so he drops a fat envelope of cash on the table. My kids were never allowed all these electronic toys till a few years ago, which means instead they learnt to draw, thanks to all their uncles and aunts donating crayons. Being able to draw is a great skill, I wish I could draw, rather than just draw cartoons with words.

Toys are great, my friend Derek who is 60 today, we used to use a paperclip as a car and go up and down the brickwork as roads with Leprechauns as passengers, see we had imagination, as we were in the playground of Saint Patrick’s. I was also the horse while he was the rider as we had jousting fights in the playground, I carried him 8 times around the playground to see how strong I was.

Old century I can hear kids say, put it build imagination, what is built nowadays, big thumbs and short tempers. Yes enjoy your toys, but there must be self control. And if there is no self control, then there is only addiction. Middle class newspapers say, I have a contract with my child, no internet at the dinner table. Can people please grow up, my mother would have thrown a phone down the toilet, many mothers would. Apple would be happy too, as it would prove their new phone was crap proof.

Eat when you eat, sleep when you sleep. Put a lock on the wi-fi, so downtime is downtime. And yes PASSword is not a very good password, be sensible. A child should not be able to use their toy after bedtime, and if they do take action immediately. My mother would have thrown a bucket of water on me, though in today’s world that would be called cruelty. So just hide the rechargers instead, but best of all switch the wifi off.

Social media at a young age is dangerous too, so don’t allow it, all the hype is just that hype. Common sense should replace laziness, it is parental laziness, or just plain old lack of love. I won’t bore you all more, because it is a 2 second no brainer. You control the wifi, not the child, if they want electronic time, then they must work for it. And loving your child means you bother to spend time with them, otherwise they think the wifi is the only thing that does loves them.

I may tidy up my Blogger sites

i may tidy up the blogger sites, i spotted 690 pieces of writing. 17 Again which I just dumped is 45,000 words or 120 odd pages, emphasis on the odd, you are all so cruel.

and yes the pain monster has been so bad, some may say I must have been really evil in another life. Or maybe that is just my writing, I'll cry if you persist.

This style of writing is radio orientated, as is the wife.

i may take a break soon, a mixture of changes and pain.

writing is radio, because you are just amusing yourself, but you hope it entertains a bigger audience who are invisible, but you hope  they are out there.