New Discoveries, Old Memories

New Discoveries, Old Memories ©

By

Michael Casey

Well today the weather is milder, though a storm with a strange name is due tomorrow, the 1^st named storm translates as “ a gift from God”, though many won’t think so on their way to church in the morning. And already I’ve upset the PC crowd, Casey to some is a strange name as well, or am I not allowed to pun on Barron and baron, people need to grow up, and that’s not a pun on his great height at such an early age. People are looking for offence too easily, when they should be looking for fun and friendship.

So I was backing up the family photo collection again, its something worth saving for the kids, even if I am the one mainly taking the photos so I’m not in many of them. People should learn to use a reflection in shop windows, or just accost strangers to take your photo. That way you may even meet your future wife/boyfriend/or cleaner mutually inclusive or exclusive, and you can get dirty together. Also hold the camera or phone to one side so we can see you and not the camera. I have to confess that Fiona my boss and maths wiz once said I was surgically attached to the camera. As I always had a camera in my pocket, this was 25 years ago and more, before everybody had mobiles with camera attached to them. Anybody can take decent photos nowadays, the indecent ones make sure you don’t send to your boss accidentally.

Now to the point, when you look through old photos you may stumble on old snaps you had forgotten about, and then the memories can come flooding back. I’ve done so this weekend, so I’ve forwarded some snaps to my daughters. Holiday snaps are great too, Malta in April 2013 was my last holiday, so memories of me drinking Tusk Lager were nice to see.

And even better to drink, so feel free to send me some. I also discovered a nice photo of me drinking in Hotel Achat Offenbach Germany.

And no I’m not a drunk, On holiday I’ll have a beer, but generally 12 pints a year is my ration. I have too many memories of our alcoholic lodgers as I grew up. I can think of 3 that died directly or indirectly of beer destroying their health. Though Barney drunk and smoked like a fish and lasted till he was 83, he died the day after his Birthday.

When you rummage through your rubbish you discover a lot, I had a clear out when we moved house a year ago, so now I have far less to rummage through. Though went you rummage through dead lodger’s rubbish you can discover lots of things. We had to do this a couple of times, we also had people just bail out and disappear, so we had to tidy up after them. See, the variety of my life gives me wider experience about certain subjects, some subjects I wish I knew nothing about, nothing at all, but as you go on you live and learn and take or share the pain with you.

I’m not just a happy clappy person, I’ve got scars too, in my case literally. If ever I pose naked for you while you get use to your new phone, you’ll see the scars on both legs and on my chest, all the way up and all the way down, and my very hairy left shoulder, where my siblings said the cow pat landed on me, I was born under a cow after all. So I just hope your new phone has that Rhino shatter proof glass. What you think I look and smell like a Rhino? You are all so cruel, CRUEL, I hope you never win an award for your image. I won Uncool Dad of The Year 2015 with Clarks shoes I’ll have you know. And I kept all my clothes on too.

Winning that award, yes I really won that award, I’m not just joking, and don’t throw shoes at me as an insult, well that award was a bright spot in 2015 which was the worse year of my life otherwise, what with my bypass and other events. Though this year 2019, has not had too much joy in it, health etc. At least my appointment to remove this lump, this bulge in my chest poking though my bypass scar came in today. See you have a mental picture of the Elephant Man now, only horror movie fans would want to photograph me naked. They are naked and I am clothed, the obvious joke, please yourselves, Frankie was right.

See Pathos and Comedy combined, though some won’t see it, and never want to see it, or any of it, because they are PC. Samantha will come and photo me, she’s the girl off the radio, an imaginary foil, who comedians were castigated, or was it castrated for, for being saucy to her. Give me HP. Well you’ve had your chips for today, so pass that HP down the table, and don’t give me any sauce, not unless you’ve come for my snaps.

The Calm after the Storm

The Calm after the Storm ©

By Michael Casey

Well the pain monster seems to have disappeared for the day, and I finally got enough sleep so I’m up and happy. I got my yearly calendar from the Columbans, that’s the Missionary society, not El Chapo’s friends, so that made my day and got me thinking of Christmas for the first time. So as I listen to Celine Dion’s Courage I’ll talk to you. Well what can I say, we Face Timed my big daughter at University yesterday so we got a look at her student accommodation and the new coat we sent to her. One looked better than the other, you can decide which.

My big daughter looks forward to MEAT when she gets home for the holidays, as her housemates are Veggies, I couldn’t live like that, if I don’t get meat at least once a day I feel faint. Maybe that’s why I’m so chunky, 252 pounds or 18 stones, as much as a Heavy Weight Boxer, though they tend to be at least 4 inches taller. Though as you know my strong legs  saved me as they took veins from them to go into my heart, the 5 year anniversary is coming up. It was 3^rd Jan 2015 I went in and 13^th Jan 2015 I had the unplanned operation, thanks again to Birmingham’s City Hospital and our Queen Elizabeth hospital. That’s why Still Alive 2015 was my book title that year.

Our cat Totoro continues to have the high life, she is the whitest and fluffiest cat in the world. I think she drinks Comfort and not milk, as you can see from the photos, she is just so super white, maybe we should rent her out for commercials. I’ve also been playing with Fonts, and layout on my sites, I hope it does not annoy you too much. What do you expect a Writer to play with? That’s disgusting, you always mock me, I’m here to amuse you, not to be mocked nor belittled. What do you mean I should belittle my stomach, you are all so very insensitive, I’m sure you’ll all vote for the insensitive party at the Election. Read chapter 9 of The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker, M.P. Married to a Person, Married to a People and you’ll get my take on elections from 30 years ago. But back to fonts, you like your words to look nice, easy to read, easy on the eye, not too fancy you cannot read what it says, just right, like Goldilocks’ porridge, and I don’t mean Boris or Trump, you know Goldilocks and the 3 Bears, that one.

I was just interrupted by “the cleaner” so my brain has been wiped, what was I going to say. Yes Fonts, I can remember reading Dirk Borgarde’s books and he was an excellent writer by the way, anyway I can remember where he was talking about Fonts. Some writers want small fonts, so the book feels like a diary, personally I like to see clearly, one reason for small fonts is to save pages and thus keep the price down. But I like to be able to see what I’m reading. On some websites too I HATE faint small sized font. It’s almost a fetish, let me see what I’m reading.

I’ve just remembered maybe 20 years ago I applied for a job and I mentioned I was a writer, and the snide nasty ignorant “lady” replied with  a rejection letter all in “fancy font”  I bet she thought she was so clever, like sacking somebody just before Christmas, that kind of clever. Yes by the way as Laura once said, “he can bite as well”, and hello to Laura, she really was a nice lady, we worked on the Font desk, I mean Front desk together.

So a Font, can give added weight or meaning to something. You don’t write “I LOVE YOU AND WANT YOU TO TAKE ME TO BED” in

BOLD , not unless you are very bold. You scribble a note on the back of a bus ticket and palm it to the one you love. Though if the object of your affections has bad eyesight, then maybe BOLD may be appropriate, or even cue cards. So for every occasion there is a font, or a greetings card, that’s why girls like fancy cards, and stationary, Clintons was the card shop here in England by the way, maybe it was a dry cleaners in USA, that I do not know maybe you need to palm me a note.

Now I think I’ve covered the basics, but do watch out for carpet burns this office Christmas party season, so whether you are Bold or not, just take precautions, otherwise the next note you receive will be on official paper. Child maintenance or a Birth Certificate with your names on. Yes 40 years ago people were doing everything you guys are planning, or hoping. Just be safe and don’t have it away in a manger.

5th Dec 2019 news

5th Dec 2019 news

well yesterday I had a migraine I suppose , induced by my shoulder/ neck pain, it was like seeing stained glass window fragments in the corner of my vision. this went on for 20 mins I suppose.  It happened for the first time a few weeks ago. As you know I only take paracetamol because my kidneys cannot tolerate other stuff, GFR of 29 now. Apart from all my ailments that hobble me, I am such a catch, and look forward to having a Korean wife next, if I don’t die first.

You have to be positive, and look forward, yes moan, but then move on.

As for the BARRON and baron Trump item in the news

Just ignore everybody Barron, and make a few friends that’ll last you 80 years.

My local priest used to call me Sancho Panza, because I used always to tag along with my 6 feet 1 inch brother and I must have been half a foot smaller. We were 13 and 11 years old then. When I gave up sugar in my instant coffee I suddenly grew 2 inches between Christmases a decade later. My uncle Patrick said it when I hit my head on the cowshed door, see below.

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Originally this is where my mum was born and raised for 12 years, a family of 9

Cromane  Lower Killorglin County Kerry Eire.

(the house is no more now, but the stones form part of my Uncle Patrick’s grandson’s house)

anyway Barron, stay happy. Sadly you dad is in an occupation where you get negative feedback. So long as you and mum create an island of love for your immediately family, then nothing will ever beat you. You will flourish. I bet you can even beat Obama at hoops if ever he drops by.

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Obviously I’ll never know if you ever stumble over this, not unless dad, namechecks me at a Press conference, and I’m a liberal with a small l, so he will never do that. I’m on the naughty list with Trudeau the Canadian guy.

Vietnamese Translation The Butcher The Baker and The UndertakerKorean Valentine PoemKOREAN TRANSLATION Still Alive 2015Korean Still Alive 2015Kasap Fırıncı ve Taahhüt © tarafındanBBU IndonesianBBU ITALIANBengali Translation of BBUBBU UrduBBU in Indian HindipersianBBUPORTUGUESE BBU2019China BBU-convertedChina BBU-convertedВ поисках индийской принцессыWydanie polskie Still Alive 2015win Wiersze dla wszystkichThe Polish TranslationsThe Polish Translationspolish Guardian AngelPolish Edition of Still Alive 2015Michael Casey The Polish Translations페이지 1 Quick Stories KOREAN아직도 살아있는 2015ページ1 Quick Stories in Japaneseインドのプリンセスを検索するにはインドのプリンセスを検索するには – CopyЭТО МОЙ ЛИФТ ADСтраница 1shoplife spanishJapanese elevator AdvertBBU GermanBBU French50 Spanish Examples50 Spanish Examplesbbumar2008-en-zh-cn-1BBUMar2008.en.zh-CN (1)BBU in HebrewBBU in Arabic300 وBBU Russian Translation microsoft wordBBU in KOREANBBU GermanBBU French50 Spanish ExamplesKOREAN TRANSLATION Still Alive 2015The Polish TranslationsSpanish BBU아직도 살아있는 2015아직도 살아있는 2015아직도 살아있는 2015       

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Vietnamese TRANSLATION of The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker

Đồ tể The Baker và The Undertaker ©

bởi

Michael Casey

go to my wordpress to read it in full

Vietnamese Translation The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker Trang 1

https://michaelgcaseyfrombirminghamengland.wordpress.com/2019/12/05/vietnam-the-butcher-the-baker-and-the-undertaker-in-translation/

Help Santa Find his Ho Ho Ho(c) 2019edit

Help Santa Find His Ho Ho Ho ©2019edit

By

Michael Casey

Christmas is a time of Love and Cheer and too many drinks of beer. For Santa its a time of giving and comes after Thanksgiving, he circles the Earth sprinkling Love and Laughter and Hope or the hereafter. But something was wrong, there was a stink and there was a pong, because Santa had lost his Ho Ho Ho. Santa was Ho Ho Ho less, he couldn’t even say God Bless when he tucked the Elves up in bed. Rudolf was sick with worry and knew he’d have to hurry, for without his Ho Ho Ho the sleigh just would not go.

Rudolf flew to the North Pole to ask the Polar Bears what to do, but they had hardly a clue. The Polar Bears suggested Rudolf asked the Eskimos in Alaska. So Rudolf flew alone to ask the Eskimos in Anchorage what to do, but even they did not have a clue. So Rudolf had an ice lolly with the Huskies, they were always kind and playful, especially Vincent their leader who loved leading, that way he did not have to look at another dog’s behind as they pulled their sleigh.

Vincent said try Lapland, so Rudolf went back to Finland to find Santa’s Ho Ho Ho. Rudolf looked high and low and even places where a reindeer should never go. Rudolf met a BigFoot hidden in the trees who was quietly having a wee. Rudolf followed the yellow snow and asked politely where he should go to find Santa’s Ho Ho Ho. BigFoot was taken aback, how did you find me? Rudolf explained I have a Red Nose I can find anything, but yellow pee is a give away for a reindeer such as me. BigFoot blushed and scratched his head, it really was time for bed. But before he went to bed this is what he said. My friend is Nessy the Loch Ness Monster, if you ask her then maybe she’ll be able to help you find Santa’s Ho Ho Ho.

Rudolf thanked BigFoot, telling him to eat more peas and that would help disguise his wees in the snow. And with a glow Rudolf was gone, high high in the air, almost on a stairway to heaven, though for Santa it was the opposite, for Santa had lost his Ho Ho Ho. Rudolf flew to Bonnie Scotland, he got lost and stopped by a bonnie wee house, it was Robbie Bruce’s. So Rudolf started speaking in Russian and doing Cossack dancing and all manner of prancing. Robbie came out with a mug of hot chocolate for Rudolf, he spoke in Russian too, he could go along with any jest, especially when just wearing his best string vest. Robbie was mortified when he heard that Santa had lost his Ho Ho Ho, so he phoned his best friend Nick Robinson the Radio4 morning gossip show host. Nick Robinson dropped the phone such was his shock, Christmas with out Santa and his sleigh and no Ho Ho Ho. Nick shed a tear, then he remembered he had a friend, not just Robbie Bruce his besty but Olga Takesometimeoff.

Olga Takesometimeoff was the dinner lady at the BBC, she pushed the tea trolley for 70 years. The bosses always said she should Take some time off, so that became her name, Olga Takesometimeoff. Now she knew everybody, their mums and dads and grandparents too, everybody told her everything. So when a tear stained Nick Robinson came to her trolley she took one look at him and slapped his face hard knocking his glasses off. This is the BBC, WE never cry, we will fight them on the beaches, we will never never surrender. I said that to Churchill, and look what did he do? He used MY words in a speech. With that she explained that she knew the private phone number of the Russian Ambassador in London.

So Rudolf armed with the phone number rung the Russian Ambassador, and asked for his help in finding the Loch Ness Monster. The Ambassador said he’d help as a special favour to Olga Takesometimeoff, and to Robbie Bruce now that he worked for RT. So it was arranged that a Russian mini sub would sneak into Loch Ness and find Nessy for Rudolf. The Royal Navy were livid when the American’s told them what was planned.

The American’s listen to everybody’s phones after all. But Olga Takesometimeoff may have a Russian sounding name but really her name was Drake-Nelson, Olga Drake-Nelson. So she did ring up the 1st Sea Lord who was her grandson. So it would be a chance for the Royal Navy to play me and my shadow with the Russians, testing some new kit Q had invented. Yes Q really does exist, he is not just a made up person in James Bond. Santa had given Q a Chemistry set as a child, Rudolf said it was dangerous, and Q burnt his eyebrows off. So Q went to school with painted on eyebrows that his sister had drawn on, just like Michael Casey the fat silver haired writer in shades did.

So the Russian’s found the Loch Ness Monster with the Royal Navy watching their every bubble. Rudolf flew low and landed on the Russian sub which surfaced so Nessy and Rudolf could chat. Meanwhile in London the Russian ambassador met for a quiet drink with the foreign secretary in the Crown. The British were so angry they make the Russians pay for the Stella Artois, they did pay for the nibbles though. Both sides had to perform the pantomime that is Diplomacy. But both men were relieved that Nessy was found, and with the help of God and 2 foreign navies Santa’s Ho Ho Ho could be found.

They had tears in their eyes, but the Russian ambassador gave the foreign secretary a fur hat as an early Christmas present. The foreign secretary gave a copy of The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker by Michael Casey to the Russian. Is this a punishment? Joked the Russian. You should have Mr Casey on RT reading his stories said the foreign secretary poker faced, to be honest he was not a fan of Michael Casey, Christmas or no Christmas. Putting his new Russian fur hat on his head the British foreign secretary left the Crown pub, he did grab the last of the nibbles though.

Nessy had lived for ages in the Loch so she had seen Santa Ho Ho Hoing through the sky for many a year, a 1000 years at least. What Nessy knew was that it was the Love of the World kept Santa going. But not just the Love but, the need of Love. So in fact what Santa needed was not Love but the opposite. He needed a challenge, Norad tracking him was not enough, the world had grown complacent. Santa needed the world’s biggest challenge to put fire in his brimstone, to make his cheeks glow, to make his chest swell.

In Heaven Mum called Saint Michael to her side, you saved the Russian spaceman after you saved Mrs Murphy. Saint Michael bowed. Would you be prepared to stand in for Santa Claus? I am humbled, but there is only one Santa. Mum smiled, Michael had such humility. But you were at Stalingrad, you helped stop the Nazi filth. Saint Michael blushed, he thought nobody knew. I have a request for you Michael, can you be by Santa’s side and step in and save the day if you have to? To serve is to obey.

Santa saddled up the sleigh, Saint Michael was in the back invisible to his eyes. Rudolf said a prayer and the reindeer leapt from the highest mountain of the North Pole. The sleigh dropped like a stone. They would have crashed straight into Nanook of the North’s igloo, but somewhere in the world a child’s lonely disparate prayer went up. I just wish I could see Santa before I die, even if I got no present, not even one grain of rice.

Now that was the kind of prayer Santa needed to bring back his Ho Ho Ho, the sleigh rose and rose high into the sky. The red rosy cheeks glowed redder than Rudolf’s nose. Saint Michael kissed his sword, he knew he’d be needing it where the were going. Where in the world would a child long for love, for a grain of rice, for the chance to see Santa.

North Korea where love of God had been replaced by the love of war, the love of nuclear weapons. The love of fear, the land of the note book, all led by crooked power, not the power of love, but dictatorship from above. So the reindeer flew without fear, Saint Michael drew his sword, Santa was on a mission, it was Stalingrad all over again. Evil must be defeated.

The reindeer zigged and zagged as missiles flew trying to knock Santa from the sky. Saint Michael batted them away, he diced and spliced the evil North Korean missiles away. Santa Ho Ho Hoed the missiles away, a force field of love and laughter. He had his sack and they would never sack him. This was his job, his future for all eternity, he had Saint Michael by his side. The reindeer could feel the child’s cries, it was coming from the deep. In the deep the metro system. Hidden away in a secret jail next to the hidden nuclear bombs was a child jailed and chained to a wall for having a pretty picture of a Nativity in his pocket.

The reindeer flew straight down the stairwell bullets flying at them from the evils guards. Saint Michael spread his wings, Santa ho ho hoed, Rudolf’s nose was as red as Mercury. And then Saint Michael sang just as he had sung in Stalingrad, Ave Maria.

The sleigh landed on a platform and Saint Michael split the cell door in two with one swipe of his sword. Chained to a wall a child was dying, clutching the colour photo of the Nativity in his hand. Saint Michael broke the chains with his bare hands. Santa cried and his tears fell as grains of rice. The child said thank you as he died in Saint Michael’s arms. Saint Michael wrapped his wing around the child.

I bring Peace and Goodwill to all men said Santa as he remounted his sleigh. And I have a message from Stalingrad to North Korea said Saint Michael. So as Santa flew back into the sky to continue on his Christmas journey, Saint Michael shared the Stalingrad spirit. Every single nuclear weapon in North Korean was hit by his sword, and they all exploded 300 metres underground.

Carry the child’s body to heaven Saint Michael left a white trail behind him. Grains of rice, that Christmas rice fell from the sky onto North Korea. And in the distance above the muffled sounds of nuclear explosions underground, you could hear Santa going Ho Ho Ho, as he and Saint Michael had the last laugh.

Too tired almost to Type

Too Tired almost to Type(c)
By
Michael Casey

Well the Tinnitus won last night, then I had to walk and bus it to the doctors for a blood test, so I'm tired today. The cold made it hard to find a vein, so I've been pricked in both arms. Make your own jokes us there. I did have a nap, but I'm still the wrong side of tired. So hopefully a night's sleep will end my Zombie state.

So what do I do when the Tinnitus wins? Well I look at my phone, and try not knocking the music off accidentally. Trump is a constant search, he'll dominate the History books, for all the wrong reasons. I'm so innocent of everything, I'll prevent everybody from Testifying. If you were brought up with a Kerry mother his actions seem so appaling. But I'll leave him there for now, in his after the Queen afterglow.

So what else do I do when sleep won't come? Well there is BBC World Service to listen to, it can change your Life and Intellect. My intellect comes more from the BBC radio 4, which is the Home version, so to speak, than any school or University. You just have to use your ears. People use their eyes too much and it detracts from the information being imparted. I grew up as a Radio person, so normally I'll pick up on words and meaning, no I'm not Sherlock Holmes, but I'd like to be. I did read all the books as a child, but 30 years later when I tried to reread them I just could not regain the love for them. That's the trouble with life, you cannot always go back, so it's better not to try, otherwise the memory is ruined and you lose a part of your life's jigsaw.

You have to get in the right position in your bed, in the warm spot in order to get a good night's sleep. Post surgery 5 years ago I can only sleep in bed on my right side, before I was like a kebab, gently turning and rotating into any position. But I have no job to go to in the morning, I just sit here and write and watch my stats every day, seeing how many more bemused readers I have world wide. If sleep just will not come then I go downstairs and put our whistling kettle on, though the whistle has dropped off, which at least means I won't wake the house while I have a hot drink. Maybe Horlicks even, which as you know is a prostitutes favourite drink, And why will I drink that in the middle of the night with Tinnitus in my ears, well that could be another story, you'll have to write that for yourselves.

Sometimes  I'll even have some toast and Philadelphia with garlic and herbs to go with my Horlicks, a perfect proposition at 3 in the morning. Though I may not have enough bread left for the morning if I have toast in the middle of the night. And that's why my belly is the size it is, Hovis seeded sensation bread, as well as wearing 4 layers in the Winter. And some kind person sends me belly exercises,  there is only one exercise  for a big belly, but I'll leave that to you imagination too.

So by now, I'd be tired enough to sleep through the Tinnitus, and I'd go back to bed, it's like having Jingle Bells constantly playing in your head, but at least with a bit of ho ho ho, your belly fat should go.