Thursday, 25 April 2019

welcoming Bolivia to my family

welcoming Bolivia to my family

this is from my wordpress

Well Malaysia was reading today and tonight Bolivia has joined my readers club.
Don’t forget there is a TRANSLATE BUTTON which can translate everything, don’t just read only the already translated stuff.
It does warm my heart when I get even more far flung readers. Today was a pain day after a bad night due to my Tinnitus, tonight as it approaches Midnight the pain has lessened,  it will return it always does but by writing my silly stuff at least I can amuse myself and hopefully all of you all over the world. Hopefully I’m a piece of chocolate to please amongst whatever kind of day YOU are having wherever you may be.
Hasta Luego chicos y chicas Michael Casey o
Miguelito el gordo con pelo silverado y shades
forgive my bad Spanish, speaking is easier than writing.
Google Translates my written pieces not me

El carnicero, el panadero y Undertaker © Por Michael Casey for my Spanish Readers it remains my copyright

El carnicero, el panadero y Undertaker ©
Por
Michael Casey
Spanish BBU  This is my full length comic novel in Spanish  Word download
China BBU-convertedChina BBU-convertedВ поисках индийской принцессыWydanie polskie Still Alive 2015The Polish Translationswin Wiersze dla wszystkich아직도 살아있는 2015페이지 1 Quick Stories KOREANMichael Casey The Polish TranslationsPolish Edition of Still Alive 2015polish Guardian AngelThe Polish Translationsshoplife spanishСтраница 1ЭТО МОЙ ЛИФТ ADインドのプリンセスを検索するには – Copyインドのプリンセスを検索するにはページ1 Quick Stories in JapaneseJapanese elevator AdvertBBU GermanBBU French50 Spanish Examples50 Spanish Examplesbbumar2008-en-zh-cn-1BBU Russian Translation microsoft word300 وBBUMar2008.en.zh-CN (1)BBU in HebrewBBU in ArabicThe Polish TranslationsKOREAN TRANSLATION Still Alive 201550 Spanish ExamplesBBU FrenchBBU GermanBBU in KOREANSpanish BBU아직도 살아있는 2015아직도 살아있는 2015아직도 살아있는 2015

Michael Casey the Writer this is  Me. aqui

Wednesday, 24 April 2019

The Kids are Growing Up

The Kids are Growing Up

The Kids are Growing Up ©
By
Michael Casey

How do you know that the kids are growing up? Well they are taller, they tell you that you have a bald patch, and they steal your sunglasses, which is a big deal in my case. They need more money for this and that, and you look shabbier and shabbier in your old, 16 year old fleece which was freebie from a 2003 security conference at the NEC. All my neighbours think I’m a security guard, or granddad because they can read the writing on the fleece.

You can read it for yourself on the latest photos on my site. However just to confuse everybody I tell them its the name of a BAND, and I’m the manager taking 25% for doing nothing, except looking COOL. So obviously nobody believes me, so I do the dance steps in front of the security camera in my local store. They just call security, however there is a bond between security personnel. So seeing my neat shades the 4 security guys who were going to throw me on the pavement just reach for their shades and line up besides me, then together we dance. So now I’m a celebrity in the store, the lads came back to mine for some Stella Artois, people don’t give us enough respect they intone as they drink my Stella Artois.

Obviously in today’s world everybody has a camera, so my dance routine with the security crew goes viral, just like my hair. So now I’m even more well known in my area, and my daughters are even more embarrassed, that was your dad everybody proclaims, three times they deny it, then the school fire alarm goes. As the entire school line up, Mr Tonks from 5A, he takes out his shades and pushes back his hair, I saw this on Utube, we may as well get some exercise. Then Mr Tonks starts to do his version of your dad’s dance. Everybody laughs, but nobody laughs at a teacher in your school, so Miss Straight Knickers the head forces everybody but everybody to dance. 480 pupils dad dancing. She winks to the caretaker who is filming from the school roof. That Chinese head thought he had the moves, but Birmingham can beat him any day of the week. Then a miracle, the head changes the steps, she has a new boyfriend, even at her age, she has an American Marching Band coach boyfriend. OH MY GOD, Miss Straight Knickers really can move, and the entire school follows. She knows how to march, ask the coach he’ll tell you stories.

And that is how you get embarrassed first by your dad and then by your school, Miss Straight Knickers amazed everybody, but hopefully that Chinese head teacher the most.

Tuesday, 23 April 2019

How does it Sound?



How does it Sound? ©
By
Michael Casey

Well I was in the kitchen having a late sandwich of beef, it is supposed to be good for my ears after all, yes you heard right, beef has zinc in it so that makes it good for my ears, or rather my Tinnitus. The cat, our Totoro understood straight away, she was perched on the garden fence outside but as soon as she heard the sound of the plastic film being opened she was away like a Marine along the fence and up onto the kitchen window. That sound always means something nice, if, she can persuade us to share with her. Totoro understands English, Chinese and Plastic, food in any language.

And that is how you got tonight’s piece of writing, or rather listening, as I want you all to use your ears not your eyes for my words. All this sounds very much Picasso, everything distorted all over the place, like a drunk putting a jigsaw together. Or typical Michael Casey writing if you are being cruel. Though we always get to the bottom of the page together, just shake the page it’ll look all right then.

So sounds, or vibes. When we are at home there are familiar sounds, the ticking of the clock, the hum of of the PC on the floor by your feet, even Totoro miaowing to be let in. The terrible humming of a tone deaf daughter or son, the sounds on the radio in the kitchen. Though nowadays it’s Spotify on the computer or on a cheap wifi wireless speaker. Sounds cannot be avoided. They are part of our life and we would not know what to do if there was just Silence.

A sound is a anchor to a time and to a place. There used to be to din in the factory, the total deafening noise. So in some places men and women learnt to lip read, or went about screaming at each other. Teachers have such battles too, 4 of us did some form of teaching after all. You have to get past the noise of kids in class. So you may stop, one teacher told me she used to start to dance and when the noise subsided, then she picked up the teaching again. Perhaps she was teaching Ballroom Dancing and Maths simultaneously, find the connection. Maybe grid references and Maths equates to good positioning on the dance floor.

In other situations, a sound means safety, a gentle lapping means the cat is drinking its milk on the floor. If that is interrupted by a baby not gurgling happily, then you have to look up from your tv, or your boyfriend who is babysitting with you. Sounds have a routine, an order, if that order is broken, then something is wrong. The washing machine has it’s range just as a singer does, if the highs and lows don’t follow a sound order then something is wrong. A mechanic knows who a car should sound, how a lawnmower should sound. Everything mechanical has its own rhythm, its own tic and tock, if the sound is not in its range then something is wrong.

So it is with People, with you or me. If there is Silence then why is there silence, we are not all monks waiting for the Abbot to read out our football results while we all eat silently. Or even to tell us what is happening on Coronation St. Or the Archers. Of course you get the Bible readings too, but the Abbot is Italian, so football scores must be heard too.

Sounds are normality, and the sound of distant drums may just be Jim Reeves singing on a neighbours record player though his open window, or the lack of that sound may mean your neighbour has had a funny turn. Glen always plays his Jim Reeves on a Sunday. So you take a look and save his life, but at least you have quiet for a month while Glen is in hospital with his broken hip.

Sounds are normality and sounds are a warning of trouble. Sounds are sounds of happiness, sitting around and farting after a great meal. The sounds of love and laughter. The sounds of anger when the boyfriend hears what’s on the answer machine, left by another boy. Two gay men arguing is never a great sound to listen to. Or two people of any combination. Then there is the sound of silence when they refuse to talk to each other.

There is also the sound of silence, the sound of love, when you don’t need to say anything you are almost in prayer together. You are just happy to be with each other, together forever, asleep with a smile on your face. Rest in Peace forever.







  

Easter Hols

 we are finishing off the Easter eggs here in silence, as my girls are both hitting the books

Its nice to see that old material is being read,it would be even nicer is somebody bought a book

The Arabic translations are also doing well, in USA  not just the Arab world itself.

Syria and Iraq are reading my stuff so WELCOME to them, feel free to buy my books in English on Amazon  https://www.amazon.com/MichaelCasey/e/B00571G0YC

I think my old neighbour may be right, I'll be famous when I'm dead. Though I'd rather enjoy any money here and now in this life. Book 18,18 New Views should be ready in a month or so, once I reach 100,000 words or 200plus pages. It will be the first book written entirely at the new house.

The vibe is much more different here, as it is so much more quieter, as we are away from the main road. Though constant Tinnitus is my ears does make up for it in other ways.. And yes I get junk emails galore on the subject of Tinnitus, which I delete unread, but not unheard so to speak.

Garlic and Beef have zinc in them, which my research says may help Tinnitus so that's one path I shall follow, but emails from strangers will be deleted unread, along with all the alleged pious emails encouraging bank fraud,email back at BSfraudcomopany@jailhouse.999years
And no doubt some bright spark will use the above email to me in a day or so.

I may write something new later on, this Tinnitus means I don't sleep till after dawn when I am totally exhausted. I was awake at 3.30 am to let Totoro our cat out the house, as all my pigs slept like ladies, lady pigs that is. Then a stray cat was on the roof outside my bedroom so I shone a torch on it. But the Tom just sat there like a film star on the red carpet, or rather a cat on a hot tin roof.

Stay Pure, or if you cannot, just be happy.

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










Monday, 22 April 2019

Mrs Tins



Mrs Tins ©
By
Michael Casey

Mrs Tins was called Mrs Tins for a reason, she was forever carrying two heavy shopping bags up the High St. She loved her tinned food, well it was far cheaper than fresh, and her Pension did not stretch very far. Her cat Thomas ate fresh food, as they lived near the Cemetery Thomas took himself off to see what he could find amongst the tomb stones. Otherwise Mrs Tins and Thomas lived a quiet life.

Mrs Tins used to work in the canning factory near Canning-Hanson Park just off the far end of the High St. It was so noisy there but they all did manage very well, because everbody but everybody could lip read. Thomas could not lip read, he was but a kitten she rescued him from a plastic bag thrown into the canal behind. That was cat contraception, a plastic bag throw into the canal. Luckily for Thomas Mrs Tins scooped him out with the end of her umbrella.

Thomas was called Thomas because his whiskers made him look like Mr Thomas the foreman of the canning factory well to Mrs Tins, and all the girls laughed so much that the kitten had to be called Thomas. Of course for years there were jokes about how is Thomas today, I don’t mean you I’m talking about the cat. Then the canning factory closed, and all the laughter ended, but at least Thomas had a good home, Thomas the cat, I don’t know about Thomas the foreman. Though I heard that Thomas the foreman joined a Tribute Band as the one in Village People with the biggest moustache. They called the band The Kats Whiskers, from cans to Can Cans.

So life moves on. Mrs Tins had an old fridge, a very old Russian one she had bought in Brights Furniture store, it was Russian and lasted forever like all Russian stuff, it must be 30 years old now. But as she lived on tinned food she never bother to replace it, she just kept her Lucozade and milk in it, and a few other things, like half eaten tinned food.

So as usual she was carrying her two heavy shopping bags home, she had 2 red leather bags brimming over. Nobody ever offered to help her carry them, not because the shopkeepers or the locals were nasty. They had offered in the past, it was just that all her tinned stuff weighted a ton, Mrs Tins was very very strong, one young lad offered to help once and nearly did himself a mischief down below with all the huffing and puffing and straining. So everybody just smiled and waved and let her get on with it. Somebody did suggest a trolley on wheels, but Mrs Tins laughed, do you think I’m an old lady do you?

It was a sunny April day, just like today, everybody was happy, Trump had resigned, so everybody was happy. Mrs Tins was gracefully walking up the High St. with tins clanking together in her bags. In the distance by the Cemetery she could see something strange, she was too far away to hear but she stopped and put on her glasses, now she could lip read. Give me your watch or I’ll hit you, and I’ll hit your girlfriend first. Mrs Tins was outraged. This was a nice area, her cat loved it and so did she. Attacking somebody, robbing somebody by Cemetery was not a very nice thing to do.

Mrs Tins approached silently, like a stealth whatever, well apart from the clanking of the tins. Then she stopped and took aim, fire one, fire two, fire three, fire four. Spam, condensed milk, fruit cocktail, beans, more beans, beans again, she did love her beans. The robber was battered, the condensed milk opened and spilt all over his coat. The would be robber was about to run away empty handed then he realised it was a little old lady firing tins at him. He was a Man, how dare a little old lady attack him.

He charged, he would have really hurt her if he had got close enough. Only the street had heard the screams and had come to her aid. Th Mohan brothers cricket team had just returned from practice. So potatoes and bananas, yams and onions, and everything on the display outside was hurled at the wood be attacker. They were the best team in the Black Country Cricket League, so do you think any vegetable missed it’s target? The Singh Sisters netball team had finished it’s practice too, so balls were hurled at the would be attacker, a Singh Sister will design and make you the best wedding dress ever. They also take no prisoners where netball is concerned.

Are you ok, Mrs Tins they all asked, as Sam Singh the local weighlifting champion sat on the would be attacked. I’m fine this person, she was going to swear but she stopped herself, he was going to rob that nice couple outside the Cemetery. Winston and Gloria had walked down the road by now to thank everybody. They had being laying some flowers on the grave of Winston’s grandmother when the would be attacker had struck.

Sgt Mulholland arrived, hello Winston, he kissed Gloria on the cheek, everybody wondered how he knew them. I introduced them, they are to be wed in a few months time. Winston does forensics and Gloria does probation. This little B B B, Sgt Mulholland stopped himself, I’ll take away. Winston and Gloria thanked everybody. Can I at least carry your bags home? Everybody laughed, but Winston was as good as his word. The Singh Sisters did say they could give discount on a wedding dress should Gloria need one.

When Winston and Gloria got to Mrs Tins they went inside for a cuppa, while they had their tea they looked around. Then Gloria screamed and dropped her cup. Did Thomas bring a rat inside the house? Sorry, that photo, that’s my nan, you have a photo of my nan in your house. Oh that’s Bernice, we used to work together at the canning factory. And so they did. They were best friends for years, but finally Bernice’s son had made it big and asked her to retire and come live with him. I lost track of her.

Gloria considered it to be a miracle, her nan’s best friend saving her and her beau from a battering. Obviously she got a wedding invite, and the Singh Sisters made the wedding dress at the last minute as the original one went bankrupt and did a moonlight flit. Mrs Tins never had to carry tins any more. Bernice’s son has a new fridge delivered, and Occado came every other week to fill it with fresh food. You see his refrigeration business worked for Occado. As for Thomas the cat, he did whatever he wanted because he was a cat, and cats please themselves. And whatever happened to the would be robber. 

Well when he came out of jail he got a placement as a trainee chef, you see having so many ingredients thrown at him it kind of affected his brain, but in a good way. I believe he eventually became a celebrity chef, throw anything at him, anything at all and in 45 minutes you’ll have a fantastic meal on your plate.  



Sunday, 21 April 2019

The Writer Easter 2019





this is what I, yes that's me

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

looks like on a good day when I've had some sleep, unlike today

when the Tinnitus kept me awake all night

https://www.amazon.com/MichaelCasey/e/B00571G0YC

when my 18th book is ready I may  put one of these snaps on the front so you know its me and not any other Michael Casey, I am not the monk nor anybody else.

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...