The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker

Saturday, 29 February 2020

How's the past 32 years been for you?

How's the past 32 years been for you?

as you know today marks 32nd anniversary of

The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker

I finished it 32 years ago today on Leap Year's Day 29th Feb 1988

It has been downloaded thousands of times for free

from my Wordpress, in many languages

My original English you can buy on Amazon

So how has the past 32 years treated you?

Me, I've experiences many many horrors and bucket loads

of pain, you've seen me and my bucket in photos

But I refuse to let that dissuade me

YOU MUST CARE ON, AND START OVER

Or you are dead in the spirit

Yes I moan and bitch, but if you've had my past 32 years

I'd like to see how you survived or would you have thrown

in the towel in many many ways

I'm very very lucky as I had great parents

and a great family to support me through the horrible times

and there have been too many

But the thing is I just never give up

Because I has a faith poured into me, I am just a cup

and I had love too poured into me, I am still a cup

I am very lucky I had two great girls, two daughters

now teenagers, forgive the old photos I post

So I never give up, even when racked with pain

so far all pain passes, even if it is like a thief in the night

and makes me want to scream, and sometimes I do scream

Writing is a focus, it may drive you guys mad, or bore you all

but for me it's almost like a prayer, it gives me hope and a focus

to my life, when pain is upon me

No I'm not in pain all of the time, just enough of the time to

call it chronic pain.

So after 32 years there are 19 books now, 2 of which are omnibuses

I can say at the end of my days, at least I left something behind,

my legacy to mankind, which lives here on Blogger and Wordpress

and Amazon too, if any of you bothered to buy, and pay this writer.

My face hasn't changed much all these years, though my hair is far

whiter, and I have scars on my chest and both legs post unplanned quadruple

heart bypass. Never mind any other metaphorical scars.

If God were to give me my health back I'd marry again, a Korean catholic

girl and have 4 more children, and live till I was 100. We could have a Kpop

band or a martial arts school. And grow older all pampered by my 6 kids in

total. And if I actually made any money as I write the next 19 books, I'd

donate 50% to Pain Relief, rising to 90% to Pain Relief

But sadly Yoona or anybody similar doesn't live anywhere near me in

Birmingham, & I'm not humble enough to receive more Blessings from God

So that's about it from my 1st 32 years of "professional" writing, because once

I finished The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker that's when I started

to call myself a WRITER, though you may choose another W word

such as Wa , Waiter. Michael MANUEL Casey he's from BIRMINGHAM

something for the Arabic readers amongst you

فليكن هناك ضوء ©

مايكل كيسي


دع دموعي تكون كلماتي

دع ضوء الشموع يكون عيني

اسمحوا الزهور في ازهر يكون شفتي

دع رائحة تكون دمي

دع الريح أنفاسي

اسمحوا الغيوم تكون مزاجي

دع ضحك الأطفال يكون أملي

دع تنهدات الأرامل ضميري

دع صلاة الغريب تكون فرحة

دع النحل يكون حكمتي

دع الأشجار تكون قوتي

اسمح لي بصبر الوصول إلى النجوم

اسمحوا لي أن نتذكر دائما في صلواتك

falaykun hunak daw' (C)
maykil kaysi
de dimwaei takun kalimati
de daw' alshumue yakun eayni
asmahu alzuhur fi azhar yakun shifati
de rayihat takun damiy
de alriyh 'anfasi
aismahuu alghuyum takun mzajy
de dahk al'atfal yakun 'amali
de tanahudat al'aramil damiriun
de salat algharib takun farhatan
de alnahl yakun hakmati
de al'ashjar takun quti
aismah li bisabr alwusul 'iilaa alnujum
aismahuu li 'an natadhakar dayimaan fi salawatik

Friday, 28 February 2020

what use am I, I am just an Old Woman?

What Use am I, I am Just an Old Woman?

Michael Casey

Maria Gonzales was an old woman, a very old woman now, bent with pain and old age and a lifetime of cleaning rich people’s homes. But she was much loved, honest cleaners are worth their weight in gold. So over the years her employers had paid her well and they always brought her a Rosary from every Holy place they could visit in South America and the world over. Maria Gonzales would never travel anywhere but the Rosaries came to her, she was content. She had a drawer full of Rosaries still in presentation cases that she used and lovingly placed back inside the presentation case after saying her 3 Rosaries, The Joyful, The Sorrowful and The Glorious. Maria Gonzales was content, God was in his Heaven but the Virgin was happy to live in a drawer next to Maria Gonzales bed.

Now when Big Sid was shot, the tv news covered it the world over and even in Maria Gonzales part of the world they heard about it, as Mrs Murphy had screamed for help and Rosaries in many languages. So Sid was saved. Maria Gonzales had in fact pulled every single Rosary from the drawer and used them to say 3 Rosaries on each, she was locked and loaded. Maria Gonzales fell asleep still clutching a Rosary an employer had brought from Lourdes in France, such a long way away from her village outside Lima. The rest of the Rosaries fell all over the floor as Maria Gonzales slept.

As dawn broke Maria Gonzales awoke with a Hail Mary on her lips, the Rosaries were no longer on the floor but neatly stacked in their presentation cases on the other side of the room beneath a picture of Our Lady. Maria said “thank you” and in her mind she could hear a soft gentle voice answer “De nada” Maria knew she’d be needing her Rosaries again soon, and all of them too, they were ready and waiting, a Big Prayer was coming. She did not know what or how or who but Maria Gonzales knew a Big Prayer would be needed.

Back in Old Forge and Singing Anvil they breathed a sigh of relief, Big Sid was still alive. But now events had moved fast, Fr.Dan had landed from China, the Chinese billionaire and the British aristocrat had joined forces, the international drugs dealers convention had this year decided to meet in Birmingham England, and they were going to get the shock of their lives.

Mrs Murphy did not know all the details, but she had handed out some Our Lady of Lourdes medals while Fr. Dan’s new best friend the reformed Chinese Billionaire’s Playboy Son had hand out the Shanghai Soother, which looked like a body warmer was in fact body armour. The filth from afar were going to get a kicking, and Fr. Dan swore it as he and his new BFF from Shanghai would lead the charge. Though the British aristocrat, had invited a few friends from down Hereford way to help move some furniture, if you know what I mean.

So while this was all being plotted and served cold on a plate, Mrs Murphy reached for her Nuclear weapons again. This time she could not scream and shout over the tv, she had to use a secret way to gain help and assistance. So she picked up the phone and rang the International Daughters of the Rosary headquarters. This being the janitor’s store at the Oratory Hagley Rd Birmingham, where John Henry Newman used to live. Old Mrs Newman, no relation picked up the phone and turned her hearing aid up to 17, Mrs Murphy was whispering. I need a favour, a silent Novena of Protection. Mrs Newman put the mop in the mop bucket, this was big, she could tell.

So the word was put out and would be transmitted. Who are we protecting asked Mrs Newman as she in turn whispered into the phone. Well I don’t know all the names but here are some:-

Mathew, Mark, Luke and John, then Patrick my son, but I’ll be praying for him, then there’s Fr.Dan my favourite priest ever and his new BBF from Shanghai, those are the ones whose names I know, and there’s a whisper that some farmers from Hereford might be coming, but I’m not supposed to know that, and all I know about farmers is wherever there are farmers there always is a big stink.

Mrs Murphy put down the phone and slipped her Rosary out of her pinny pocket, it would be a long night. Where was that space blanket Esther her Jewish zillionaire’s mother had sent her. Maybe she should tell Esther too, she could keep secrets, her son owned spy satellites everywhere. Mrs Newman at the Oratory reached for the high shelf in the janitor’s store, hidden behind an old battered box of Brillo was a phone her son had given her. It was like the Bat phone, but so much more powerful. On this phone, ever phone number of everybody connected to International Daughters of the Rosary. Mrs Newman whispered into the phone. Pray Day, Pray Day, Pray Day Ave Marie, then she listed the names of those in need of protection. With just one push of a button everybody would get the message. The Tsunami was coming, the Tsunami was coming.

What Use am I, I am just an old woman? You can pray, and pray they did. The water of life had ripples on the shore, but now the waves were getting bigger, and bigger, the storm, the Tsunami was brewing. Nothing or nobody would hurt, nos hichos, they were protected. North, South and East and West, even in the space station the call came though. First to a Russian astronaut whose mother had rung reminding him he was closer to Heaven so pray too, then on a secure channel Esther’s son spoke, All Eyes All Prayers Protect our boys.

But What of Maria Gonzales? She did not get any message but she knew anyway, the Rosaries had been lined up ready, but she could only use one at a time. Then, then the cars started to arrive outside her door, rich ladies, very rich ladies, those who had brought her all those Rosaries began to arrive. 27 ladies all looking worried, they did not know why or how but they were drawn to their servants door.

Maria, Maria are you well? They are asked anxiously, I’m fine, but maybe it’s not me who called you here. Then she showed them the Rosaries all lined up ready. Maria started to hand out the Rosaries, nobody knew what was going on. Then one phone rung. It was the called from the janitor’s room. This is why we are here, the rich lady announced. So they started then and there in a poor woman’s home some of the finest ladies of the city, of Lima began to pray.

NOW TOMORROW 29TH FEB 2020 Leap Year's Day

MARKS THE 32ND Birthday of my first book

The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker

What you've just read will become part of the climax of Tears for a Butcher

which will be the sequel starting the very next day

but still not written 32 years later

I have produced 18 more books, but still the sequel is not finished

and may never be.

I have had occasion to pray bigtime recently, and yes the Rosary works

You may pray down your pub, or on a mat, or wherever

I was thinking of carrying on with story tonight but I'm too tired and I

did have to slap on the Movelat painkiller a few minutes ago.

So you'll probably get something else tomorrow

Or you could try finishing the story as an exercise.

My Tinnitus was not so bad the past 2 nights, but I still waken every 2 hours.

And have a party for my writing tomorrow 29th Feb 2020, wherever you are

or just burn my books and use the flames to cook hotdogs.

china-bbu-converted-1 BBU Urdu Bengali Translation of BBU THAI BBU Translation BBU in KOREAN Vietnamese Translation The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker Korean Valentine Poem KOREAN TRANSLATION Still Alive 2015 Korean Still Alive 2015 Kasap Fırıncı ve Taahhüt © tarafından BBU Indonesian BBU ITALIAN BBU in Indian Hindi persianBBU PORTUGUESE BBU2019 В поисках индийской принцессы Wydanie polskie Still Alive 2015 win Wiersze dla wszystkich The Polish Translations The Polish Translations polish Guardian Angel Polish Edition of Still Alive 2015 Michael Casey The Polish Translations 페이지 1 Quick Stories KOREAN 아직도 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 - Copy ЭТО МОЙ ЛИФТ AD Страница 1 shoplife spanish Japanese elevator Advert BBU German BBU French 50 Spanish Examples 50 Spanish Examples bbumar2008-en-zh-cn-1 BBUMar2008.en.zh-CN (1)BBU in Hebrew BBU in Arabic 300 و BBU Russian Translation microsoft word BBU in KOREAN BBU German BBU French 50 Spanish Examples KOREAN TRANSLATION Still Alive 2015 The Polish Translations Spanish BBU 아직도 살아있는 2015 아직도 살아있는 2015 아직도 살아있는 2015

today we have snow

today we have snow

the world economy shivers due to virus fears

but if we all cuddle up with a book for a few weeks

then the virus will be dead

and we'll have a baby boom

which will be good for people and the economy

I started watching HUNTERS on tv

One line really struck a chord were the jewish matchmaker

says " I have made x many matches and that's meant 900+ new babies"

which leaves 5,800,000 more needed to replace those taken

Forgive me for misquoting, but I was really stuck/touched by the concept

The absolute Evil that went before....

The show itself is set in 1970s and feels a bit like a Quitin Tarentino film

I also noticed a lot of you are now reading the Hebrew Translation

So I hope you like my book too.

In the end, it's all about FAMILY, and Jews love family and music

So enjoy the book, and tell everybody to read it

29th February 2020 , tomorrow marks the 32nd Birthday of the book

Tears for a Butcher the follow on book, starts the very next day. If I finish it.

Though that'd be 32 years now in real time.

So thanks to all my readers everywhere from whatever land you live in and

from whatever faith or none you follow, in the end my book is about

FAMILY.

me by the old back door, and it says PAX or Peace over the door

Thursday, 27 February 2020

How a Virus saved the world

How a Virus saved the world

Well the newspapers seem to be overreacting to this virus

My wife was in Shanghai visiting her mum when it began

So she and the whole of China stayed indoors

So that was her Chinese New Year holiday

She managed to get a flight out

AND

then self isolated away from me

Before coming back to the family house

Now we see the whole world reacting

In the End it will be good for Global Warming

As less activity will harm the Planet less

People moan about being stuck in a hotel etc

What about the housebound

What about those living on benefit

In an overcrowded benefits hotel

So people should thank their lucky stars

They live/ we live somewhere with a great health service

Newspapers are having a field day, but a little bit excessive

Its people like me with Health Problems who'd drop like flies

Over in USA Trump has lined up Pence to take a fall

If it struck USA, all the 300 million guns would be out in

the civilian population, because nobody tells me what to do

It's my right to cough and spew and (((((( you

So let the world have a rest and be gentle to one another

sister and brother, for this is our one world

and we have no other

Wednesday, 26 February 2020

Simple Sarah

Simple Sarah (c)

Michael Casey

Simple Sarah, was well simple, or so folks thought, in fact she used to teach languages, very strange languages to very strange men. They all respected her, she used to slap their knuckles with a plastic ruler if they made any mistakes. She was no ordinary ESOL English teacher, but in reverse if you know what I mean. She was the best, the very best in her field. When she announced she was to retire early, while there was still some life in the old dog, everybody at the “school” was sad. You’ll miss the bitch, or Miss Bitch, I know what you call me behind my back. Then she laughed like a drain, and everybody joined in. She always told them after slapping knuckles with a ruler, one day you’ll thank me. And indeed they did, indeed they did.

They didn’t give her a clock as a leaving present, they gave her a watch and a parrot. As she had told them all that Parrot Fashion was the only way to be when speaking a language. She also told them a friend of hers used to own a cafe and he had a parrot that always said “shut the bleeding door” and yes that’s a true story, because this writer’s dad used to go there on High Street Smethwick many years ago. So Simple Sarah retired early, with a parrot and a Mickey Mouse watch, though it was no ordinary Mickey Mouse watch.

So Simple Sarah settled into living in her Agatha Raison style village. Soon she knew everybody and she knew everything, she cycled everywhere with an old grocer’s bicycle with it’s basket at the front. Simple Sarah was a big strong girl, in fact she once had a French student in her class, he complained about being hit with a ruler, so she slapped his face so hard it was red for an hour. She believed in discipline, and so did her students. The French man never complained after that, in fact a year later he returned with a gift of wine and cheese. All he said was, you saved my life, and went away with a tear in his eye.

So Simple Sarah soon became the village gossip par excellent, she knew things only your priest or doctor should or could know. If you were sick, or needed cheering up she was there. A cheerful chat, disgusting really disgusting jokes, that you’d need confession after hearing them. Or a kiss and a hug, and a gift of jam left at your door. She had a friend called Mrs Douglas who made cake so a cake made with love from Mrs Douglas would find it’s way to you. Carried in a basket in front of the bicycle, Simple Sarah really was the best, simple the best, better than all the rest. Flowers were grown in her garden and shared with love. Simple Sarah had green fingers up to her elbow, she received seeds in the post from her “boys” as she called them fondly, even if they called her “Miss Bitch”, she laughed at the memory.

Simple Sarah loved her life, her retirement, she could keep a secret too, so she was the confessor to all, she could easily have put the priest out of business. But she did not, she was a glue, a form or chattering cement that bound the street as other women do all over the world do. Now when one day Sarah was not seen at the post office everybody assumed she was some place else. But she was not, she had in fact fallen down the stairs, carrying too many books and her mug of Horlicks.

There was a Frenchman in the post office, he wanted to buy a plastic ruler, he was the very same Frenchman, all the girls swooned. He was hot, so very very hot, and yes he even had a moustache and a battered beret with a Lourdes badge on. Then everybody pointed to the sky, there was a parrot flying overhead, it had something in it’s claws, it was a watch. It was Simple Sarah’s, she had told them all to call her simply Sarah, or Simple Sarah and had laughed when she first met them all. Hence Simple Sarah, and now the parrot was carrying her watch.

The Frenchman looked up, Miss Bitch he exclaimed, he recognised both parrot and the watch. Everybody in the post office gave him a filthy look, such language and to speak of the angelic Simple Sarah in such a way. The Frenchman ran outside and spoke in a foreign language, the parrot immediately descended and perched on his shoulder. The Frenchman looked at the watch, he pressed the special button immediately. Help will Come, Help with Come but this was not Narnia this was a little English village, near Herford.

The Frenchman spoke into his phone again in a very strange language, look after the parrot he commanded, and he was so very commanding, the French as so very hot, hot hot. All the post office ladies were aquiver. The rescuers will come, just tell them Jacques Cousteau has gone ahead, and then he raced through field in a direct attack, or should I say save. What’s going on, and why is Simple Sarah’s parrot here. Then the ladies looked at the Mickey Mouse watch, on the back was an inscription, from those who dare to speak.

They didn’t quiet understand what it all meant, but 3 military helicopters overhead and quad bikers swarming did give a little indication. Simple Sarah used to teach strange languages to even stranger men, and yes your life could depend on it, so you did have to speak just like a parrot. Or something deadlier than a ruler might hit you. And why was the Frenchman call Jacques Cousteau? Because he enjoyed a gentle paddle in water, if I explained any more somebody might have to kill you, if you’ve read the first story in The Final Cut of the 19^th Hole that might explain it to you, ok enough.

So Simple Sarah was saved and a helicopter took her to a Military hospital, as it was the closest, and they do look after their own after all. Though Birmingham’s QE does look after many military too, and military nurses work there, as this writer can testify. All was revealed, well almost, Simple Sarah was a linguist, was it 15 languages she spoke, and they were the kind of languages “naughty boys” as she called her boys might need when they were out for a Friday night’s mischief. And yes that’s a metaphor.

All the post office’s supply of plastic rulers were bought up, the “naught boys” did have a sense of humour after all. So a vase of wine with plastic rulers sticking out of it like flowers was placed by her bed in hospital. They did give her a very long straw as well.