D.I.Y. Haircut

D.I.Y. Haircut ©

By Michael Casey

Where do I begin, which is most important thing when giving yourself a haircut, well you start at the eyebrows, I do have bushy eyebrows if I fail to trim them. As you know I cut them off with a scissors when I was 4 or so, then when I was 13 or 14 and learning some French for Mr Notzing the best teacher ever, I plucked them as naked an over ready chicken. So my sister painted some on, nobody noticed the first day, but on the 2^nd day they did. Luckily I was 13.5 stones so nobody took the mick.

So be careful, that’s all I’ll say, not unless you want your class mates to think you are Eddie Izzard, and in the 1970s everybody wasn’t as open to everything as they are, or should be nowadays. You need to find the scissors first, they may have been used to scape chewing gum from your daughter’s boots, or even dog pooh, people just grab the first things that come to hand, so disinfect first, just to be on the safe side. Or if you are lucky you have those comb scissors that look like a comb on one blade with a hopefully pooh free  2^nd blade, though bubble gum could be worse, have you ever had bubble gum in your hair? Oh, just seagull pooh, it’s supposed to be good luck, though how the seagulls get as far inland as Birmingham the centre of the country I’ll never know.

Now safety first, cover your eye with your hand, or if you have a spare Pirate patch wear that over the eye where you are going to eyebrow trim. I have the Pirate scars myself from my heart bypass, and yes that sexy photo of my bare chest really is me from 5 years ago, before my hernia started to poke through like a breast. And you all thought I was a bit of a woman already, you so very cruel, maybe one day a Korean girl is smitten by my scared torso, etc etc etc, as the King of Siam used to say. But back to the plot, standing in front of a mirror ever so carefully begin to trim your eyebrow, but make sure the bathroom door is locked, otherwise you’ll get knocked over and be blinded, or have dodgy eyebrows that Youths think make them look hard. Sorry you  just look really STUPID, but who am I to judge, I do trim the Pope’s eyebrows for him, but that’s another story. A bit of which is in my 19^th books and the 1^st story inside, so go look.

The comb scissors are the best, however if you cut too  much don’t try to match it on the other eyebrow, as you’ll always end up cutting and trimming more and more as you attempt to reach balance, and just end up like an oven ready shaved chicken. Basically you are stuffed, but without the sage and onion up your behind. So once you have finished your eyebrows, step back and admire yourself in the bathroom mirror, but don’t trip over the toilet and drop the scissors down the bog. You really really need those scissors, no matter what’s in the toilet, your hand will have to go down and retrieve the scissors. Otherwise you’ll look like a Yeti.  So always Prepare before you start. Flush and clean everything, and but the toilet lid down, and put plugs in bath and sink. Five minutes prep will save the day. And don’t forget to pull the blind down on the bathroom window, you don’t have frosted glass on that window, you don’t want your neighbours laughing at you. Which reminds me of a story, The Shy Girl, I wrote it for a 2^nd girl, and after she read it she did speak to me for 6 weeks. It may be on one of my sites, or I’ll load it up, its over 20 years old.

So your eyebrows are done, so you shave your ears next, well I do anyway. Be careful not to use a brand new blade, shave your behind first, then use the same blade on your ears. That way you won’t cut your ears to bits, you could end up looking like Mike Tyson had had a go at you in the ring, or is it bathroom. Also as you have blunted the blade there won’t be any nicks, or if they are nobody will ever know, not unless you sit side saddle. Which reminds me of another story about a bolt up my bum, and then I did have to sit side saddle. My eldest brother came home from Oxford University and asked me to show him my scar. The joys of large families, 50 years ago.

So you are confident now so you can start cutting the hair on your head, your bum, ears and eyebrows are done. Once again, safety, cover your ear with your hand as you cut the hair all around it. You could even put headphones on upside down, so as you listen to music you protect your ears, otherwise  you might cut a piece off your ears and end up looking like a Vulcan. You can cut away to your hearts content because as you are in lockdown nobody will see you. Or in my case my hair grows like Japanese knotweed, that’s why Orientals find me so attractive, please yourselves as Frankie Howerd might say.

Now I think you’ve had enough of my Hair, though in the Musical isn’t that a theme song and they all end up naked. See I may have given  you an idea for you own weekends entertainment, Singing. Be careful if you do cut your hair, I am very tempted myself, as my hair really does grow so fast, where I live there are loads and  loads of hair places, but now they are all shut due to Lockdown. Maybe they are all singing Hair from that Musical, or have they filmed me in bathroom, I always forget to put the blind down. Michael’s Bathroom is another story I seem to remember, in it a bread knife falls down the toilet, so obviously I retrieve it, how else can I make my sandwiches on my crusty cobs?

The Bad Cat that Wasn't

The Bad Cat That Wasn’t ©

By Michael Casey

Totoro wasn’t a bad cat even though his owner thought she was, it was just that she got fed up of being a house cat, house cats led a boring life. It was nice being fed and having a nice litter tray by the back door, but Totoro wanted to see what was behind the back door. So she plotted to escape and have a look around the neighbourhood, she was allowed upstairs and down stairs and in the lady’s chamber, and if there was an attic or even a cellar she’d be allowed to go there too. But that was not enough for Totoro.

Totoro wanted to talk to the other cats and annoy that dog that lived over the hedge. She had watched all the goings on in the neighbourhood, but that was just through the window, she wanted to join in and be part of it. Cat tv was no good, she wanted to be part of the action. One day her owner Miss Lump who was rather plumb left the bathroom window open to let the steam out. Only the cat got out too, Miss Lump who was a teacher had lost her cat, though some of her students thought she was a witch who rode on a broomstick with a cat.

Miss Lump did not notice as she was busy making harder and harder maths tests for her Year8 students, they would thank her for it in the future, even if they called her Witch behind her back, or other words that rhythmed with Witch. In the morning Miss Lump heard a noise it was Totoro asking to be let in, Totoro was sitting on the porch canopy beneath Miss Lump’s bedroom window. Miss Lump was surprised to see her cat there, but she realised she needed to allow Totoro some freedom.

From that night onwards she kept her bedroom window half open, so Totoro could come and go as she pleased. Miss Lump did have a metal baseball bat under her bed just in case any burglars came along, she was 110kilos and knew how to swing a bat. Despite her size she was still pretty as she had red hair and a very nice smile, when she wasn’t setting maths tests for her students.

So Totoro became a night shift cat, coming and going as he pleased, she went to see the nasty dog first of all, she jumped out of the hedge straight onto the dog’s back, from that night onwards the neighbourhood slept better. This was the first miracle Totoro performed. Totoro visited the old ladies of the neighbourhood and tested their milk for them, just to make sure it was good enough for them. She didn’t want any of the old ladies to drink bad milk after all, she soon became the official milk tester for 4 old ladies.

Totoro spent more and more time away from her home and Miss Lump, but Miss Lump knew Totoro was ok so she did not worry. Totoro still managed to come back and finish his food and use his litter. Totoro may travel far and wide but she always poohed at home.

A little boy had come to the neighbourhood, he never went out to play, Totoro went to see him, Totoro looked at him through his window, for some reason the child slept downstairs with a bottle and wires connected. Totoro did not know what they were, maybe he was part Gerbil, he had a bottle and wires. If Totoro could speak he’d ask Miss Lump to explain.

One evening Totoro sneaked into the boy’s house to see him, the boy’s face was so pale and white, he had spilt some milk on his clothes, Totoro jumped on his lap and started licking the milk up. As he was licking the milk up, the boy smiled and laughed, his mother heard the laughter and came to see what was happening. To hear her son laugh was such joy for his mother, her son was sick so very sick.

Totoro became a regular visitor to Tomas’s house, Totoro had his regulars, Totoro was a travelling cat who was there to be stroked and loved by everywhere in the neighbour. Totoro seemed to know that Tomas needed him more than the rest, so she just moved in. She loved sleeping at the bottom of Tomas’s bed, and Totoro loved her too, she purred like a taxi when he stroked her.

Tomas’s mom rang the phone number on Totoro’s collar, Miss Lump understood, and when she discovered Tomas was in Year8 she shed a tear, he’d never finish all the maths test she set for her children. And Tomas never did, 3 months later he died on a Tuesday morning, still stroking Totoro, in her sorrow and pain Tomas’s mother rang to share the sad news with Miss Lump.

Miss Lump went to school and passed out the test papers, as the Year8 children did the biggest and hardest maths test of their lives Miss Lump sat there crying. The children looked up from their test papers and immediately they loved Miss Lump to death, they tried their hardest because they loved her. After the test was over Miss Lump explained about Totoro and Tomas, then it was the turn of the children to cry. A cat may have 9 lives but we only have one said Miss Lump, then they all cried together.

Tomas left a legacy all of Miss Lump’s maths group decided to live a bit for him as he didn’t have a chance to finish his life. In fact the maths group became the most brilliant maths group ever.  Tomas’s funeral was so sad with lots of children in attendance, Totoro’s friends also came as they all shared him and so they should be there for Tomas too.

Tomas went straight to Heaven, he was met by Saint Martin de Porres who handed him a cat, the cat looked exactly like Totoro. Had Totoro exchanged one of her lives so Totoro would not be lonely in Heaven. I don’t know, we’ll have to ask Saint Martin de Porres when we get there, if we are good.

Now there is evil in the world, now though Totoro was safe in Heaven with Tomas, here on earth there is evil. One night a burglar who had been looking around the area for somewhere to steal noticed Miss Lump’s open bedroom window. So with a hop and a skip he was in her bedroom. Luckily for Miss Lump Totoro and her 8 remaining lives was fast asleep at the bottom of her bed.

Totoro leapt and scratched the burglar’s face, the thief threw Totoro and Totoro landed on a tin of paint which Miss Lump had been using to touch up the paint in her bedroom. Miss Lump awoke to see an uninvited man in her bedroom. So she reached for her baseball bat and battered the thief till he fell out her bedroom window, breaking an arm and a leg.

Miss Lump looked at Totoro, she had saved her, though now Totoro was covered in paint. Tomas watching from Heaven begged Saint Martin de Porres to save Totoro’s life, even if it meant Totoro lost another one of his lives. Saint Martin de Porres smiled, he had a soft spot for animals after all, Miss Lump was desperate for a Vet to save her cat.

The Police came to take the burglar away, via hospital and an emergency RSPCA Vet arrived too. Covered in paint was a terrible thing for a cat, but Miss Lump wanted her cat to live. Several of Totoro’s other owners arrived all the noise of police and ambulance had woken them up. They did not care what it cost they would all chip in. Totoro had spread so much love they just had to thank her.

So Totoro lost another life, but the Vet gained a wife. Totoro was shaved and had to wear a cone to stop her from licking herself and the poisonous paint, but with love and care and despite the lack of hair she would survive.

The Vet’s name was Tomas Martin, no I’m not lying, his name was Tomas Martin. He immediately fell in love with Miss Lump, and he just loved maths too, multiplication was his absolute favourite. They went on to have 7 children the same number as lives Totoro had left.

Well Spread Well Read

Hello World, welcome Korea, Iran, Indonesia on my Bloggers

as well as readers in 5 other languages via my Wordpress

Haven't you got something better to do, such as cut the grass

the green stuff in your garden, not what they have in Colombia

Though I do have readers in Colombia and Argentina  for that matter

You are all very welcome

Spread the word like jam on your toast

I don't know what I'll write today to add to the THOUSANDS of pieces of

writing but it's good for my spirits to see somebody is reading my stuff

The idea behind the loaded translations and pdf files is to make

you all suffer in equal measure, or you can all form a prayer or swear group,

whichever you are better at, and it will help relieve the tension,

and God does listen too, just hang on in there baby as Barry White might sing

My small daughter won't take her exams this year so it is based on assessments

good job we have an orchard nearby and I climbed over the wall and stole

apples for all her teachers so I expect great grades.

I'm lying, I trained Totoro our Ninja cat to do it, which reminds me of a Totoro

story i wrote so I'll post that in separately so you can all laugh and cry,

Some strange people send me junk emails in Hebrew and Korean

If you want to talk, English with a subject line may get an answer if you

send to michaelgcasey@hotmail.com  Google translate does work

All other rubbish with due respect, and I'm dying, i'm a GI, you've won millions

are wasting your time, just go cut the grass and play football

Finally you never know what style I may adopt when I write a piece, it's like

blindfold food tasting, or love making, whichever is your norm.

So go and do something useful, and if you really have nothing better to do, then

come and read my rubbish, and tell everybody in your contacts list too. Let them

all suffer, LAUGHTER, or go do some blindfolded nude tickling with a feather.

Have you not got any imagination? Or just read all books on that book list for

 school/college when you return, and I mean the teachers.

Enough, I need another tea, then a wee, too much information

Stay Covid 19 free.

 Somebody should be screen printing abusive anti covid19 Tshirts

Come On make Some Noise

Come On make Some Noise

I don't know what it's like where you are in the world

But here in Birmingham it is too quiet

Apart from my daughters cutting the grass in the garden

Thanks to this hernia through my bypass scar I cannot do it

 This  SLADE song could be our anthem

Slade Cum On Feel The Noize 1973

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

they were  very big band when I was growing up

So play the video on 15 with your windows open and stand there with your

bum exposed and slap it along to the music

or get somebody to slap your bum for you

Cause a sensation in your street

WE NEED A BIT OF NOISE

the world as gone too quiet now

we all need the stimulation of noise

Or we all wear  a Trump mask as we slap our bums

singing WHO needs you now

a catchy chorus

You can make up your own entertainment, but we do need a bit of noise

To fill the vacuum of silence, apart from Trump's daily lies conference

Stay Safe Everybody Everywhere, and it's obvious this is a Global problem

and every part of the world has to be fixed, or Covid 19 will return like a tide

Meanwhile there is much less pollution as a side effect of the Covid 19,

Just watch wildlife with David Attenborough and don't eat it.

IN FULL The Return of Darth The Once Mighty

IN FULL

The Return of Darth the Once Mighty ©

By Michael Casey

Now as I’ve mentioned Darth is a Warrior with a capital W. Well that’s almost true, apart from his weaknesses, mainly Mead, or Beer in today’s parlance. Darth is from Viking times, but he would not listen to anybody, Vikings are a bit like that, so he ended up sailing off the end of the world. The earth is flat after all. Darth screamed, may the gods help me, but they did not, but God did help him.

So, Darth found himself in 1987 alive and in pencil, on a dogeared piece of paper all bound with a shoe lace. Imagine the indignity of it all. Though he did discover that 1987 beer was ok, never as good as Mead, but he could not complain. Darth met the lads from StatsMR computer room and they super glued a red read/write ring to his left ear lobe, and for balance a blue read/write ring to his right ear lobe. They told him he looked so good, and Darth slurred one day Michael Casey will be a famous writer, but the lads just laughed and got another round in. Though Mark Alder drew a cartoon of Michael Casey in the style of William Shakespeare, as he was a comedian.

Now Darth did have a companion, a dwarf a very big dwarf, more like a Michelin Man size dwarf, who drank and belched and farted, but in tune to anything playing on the Jukebox in the Horse Trader bar. Falstaff was so talented that way, though when Falstaff drunk too much, more that 25 pints and 14 packets of crisps and 7 bags of scratchings something horrible happened. No not that. Falstaff would turn Plastic, just like a giant piece of garden furniture. So, the lads had to keep count, or plastic would happen.

So, as it was closing time the lads all scattered, the weekend beckoned, Darth was left to carry a plastic Falstaff away, if he could survive the subway near the small brook, it was said to be dangerous, the lads did warn him to watch out. But Fate came a calling, some other lads out for a weekend of 1987 drinking and wenching saw Darth in Viking gear carrying a giant plastic dwarf on his back, so naturally they laughed and mocked him in the subway next to the Asian food store. Debbie was there and she witnessed what happened and told the Statsy boys on the Monday. The yobs, let’s give them their true name, the yobs mocked Darth and his plastic Falstaff dwarf, it was too much for any Viking to accept. So, Darth dropped the plastic Falstaff and started singing Michael Bolton songs, he was very drunk after all. The yobs laughed and jostled him, Darth was outnumbered but on he sung, Can I Touch You there, Michael Bolton came to the rescue, then plastic Falstaff awoke farting and belching in time to Michael Bolton’s Can I touch You there. A dwarf fart is a mighty weapon, and the yobs were vanquished. Debbie smiled she recognised the read/write rings, and then as Darth outstretched his hand to help Falstaff off the floor, there was a flash, no not because of fart and cigarette combined, though Paul Flash might remember a story about that. No, it was the space time continuum, Darth disappeared into space and time, taking his dwarf friend Falstaff with him.

So, since 1987 Darth and his plastic dwarf friend Falstaff have been in the ether, waiting just waiting for the gods to call him back. Now it’s 2020 and the clock is ticking, the clock is ticking, I just changed the battery, maybe I should change it more often than every 33 years. My clock has chimed, and through the clouds Darth is falling to earth, not a spaceman, but a Viking and a Dwarf, not even a  Red Dwarf, just a grubby beer stained dwarf called Falstaff. May the gods help us screams Darth, again the gods do nothing, but God is listening. Darth and Falstaff fall through the roof of Saint Mary’s where thieves had stolen some lead and there was enough space for a Viking riding and gliding down through the sky sat on a plastic dwarf could fall. Splash landing, Darth and Falstaff land in the Baptismal font. They would get zero for technical merit, but 10 for level of difficulty if this were the Tokyo Olympics diving competition.

After all these years Darth was thirsty so he drunk the Baptismal Font dry as Falstaff awoke and wondered where the nearest pub might be. Climbing out the font, Darth spied the vicar, Quasimodo, it was not her real name but some bright spark had christened her that when she was spotted ringing the church bells, when she had first arrived.

Now the gods may have not listened to Darth, but God had been listening to Quasimodo over and over and over again, she was plain, but she had a heart of gold, if only she could find a man and have a child, one would be enough, somebody to love and be loved by. But who would have her? Darth was a strapping big man, so big he could be Ukrainian, though Darth did explain he was a Viking. Was God playing tricks on her, or was the altar wine too strong. She prayed for a man, and now there were two, both falling through the hole in the roof, she thought they were lead stealers at first, but she could tell they were not. She had done English and History at Queens before getting the call, the vocation, come follow me.

Quasimodo, was a great priest, she spent all her time reading, and not because she as so plain and nobody would ever want her. She was just so terrible shy too. God looked on, he had answered her prayers, twice over, now she could not make her mind up. So Quasimodo did what any girl would do, she rung a friend, she rung Fatima her friend from the Fence company down the road. Fatima was always kind, some thought to kind, she may build fences having inherited her dad’s Fence company, but she was a chatterbox. It’s always the case, opposites attract. Some cruel people in fact said the pair of them were too close, if you know what I mean, some people are so cruel and gossip hurts, really hurts deeply. But they were thankful for the friendship between them, and Quasimodo was great at getting splinters out after Fatima had had a busy day. Quasimodo was seen kissing Fatima’s finger after she extracted a really bad splinter, and you can guess the rest.

Fatima came running, Falstaff smiled and moved forward, so obviously Fatima punched him hard and followed up with a kick to his groin, a girl had to know how to defend herself after all. Quasimodo put herself between Fatima and Darth, as she was about to be hit next, in doing so Quasimodo fell over and would have banged her head on the font, but Darth caught her. He looked into her eyes, and it was love at first sight, she had literally fallen for him. Meanwhile Fatima realised violence was not called for and held out her hand and lifted Falstaff from the floor. Falstaff was still rubbing himself with one hand, Fatima laughed. As she laughed Falstaff realised, she was more beautiful that a table full of ale and 24 packets of Walkers cheese and onion crisps. Yes again, love at first sight.

God works in mysterious ways said Quasimodo and Fatima agreed, no need of fences any more. All four of them sat, and Falstaff began to sing, he knew all the Abba back list. That’s how they spent the evening singing Abba songs, sat next to the font. Quasimodo had an idea, if they held a concert they could raise funds to repair the hole in the church roof.  Abba sung by Norsemen, such a simple idea, so it was decided. Now how could Qausimodo and Fatima accept such strange events? Well old Mrs Houseman had said before she died that as soon as she got to Heaven, she’d find two strapping men for them, and then nobody would ever call them Lesbians again. She was always very direct Mrs Houseman, she’d even said she’d throw them through that hole in the church roof. So it must be the work of God, so obvious Quasimodo believed, she was a vicar after all.

The concert arrived and Falstaff and Darth were ready, the posters showed them, they were posted everywhere up the street. Women thought they were male strippers and obviously they came in force. Men thought they were WWW wrestlers so they came too. So some were disappointed by what they saw in the church hall. But ABBA  are universal, the local lesbians came too, because the believed the rumours about the vicar, so wanted to show solidarity. When Darth sung with Falstaff joining in all were amazed, and even more amazed when the vicar Quasimodo appeared in silver spangled hot pants, Fatima matched her with the same costume. And yes they were great singers too. David had come along too to play the organ, David was world famous in the area for his organ playing. All in all a wonderful night. Lots of money collected to fix the church roof, just left in the collection baskets.

David’s bald patch glistened, Quasimodo and Fatima kissed his bald patch and David went red, he was so embarrassed, Fran his wife laughed. Everything was so perfect, David and Fran would cycle home on their tandem laughing. But somebody else was laughing all the way to the bank, Quasimodo had raised enough for a new roof as they raised the roof with Abba music. However is always lurking. Lewis the local bad boy knew this was his chance, he’d steal the money, and be off to Paris, he always wanted to go to Paris. Now with the roof money he could go with his Honey.

After the concert Quasimodo kissed Darth, and Fatima kissed Falstaff. Then the girls proved they were no lesbians, the local lesbians saw the kissing as the crowd filtered home. They weren’t sad, at least Quasimodo and Fatima had somebody strong to lean on, and there was a lot of leaning going on.

Now in the night Lewis climbed down from the roof dressed as an angel and attempted to steal the money. Darth caught him and Falstaff awoke from their position in the choir loft to find Darth strangling the angel. In fact the whole world saw this as Quasimodo had a camera for online church services. Quasimodo and Fatima came running in their nighties, as Fatima had stopped over, as she’d had too much church wine as part of the roof raising celebrations and could not drive. Quasimodo’s nightie got caught on a candlestick, and in the gloom the whole world saw an unfrocked vicar. Darth decided in a nanosecond he’d marry her. As for Fatima, she had layers or fences around her, but Falstaff knew she was the one for him. As for Lewis the angel, he was strung up like a Christmas fairy and suspended by the bell rope, he was left there for the Police in the morning.

Darth asked Quasimodo to marry him and have a small family, 8 children was considered small in Viking terms. Of course Quasimodo said yes, you can ring my bell is what she said, as she began to sing the song. What of Falstaff and Fatima, or double FF as the couple were known. Well they only had 4 pregnancies but each was of twins, hence their nickname, double FF, which represents Fatima and Falstaff. And Falstaff never turned plastic again.

The Return of Darth the Once Mighty part one

The Return of Darth the Once Mighty ©

By

Michael Casey

Now as I’ve mentioned Darth is a Warrior with a capital W. Well that’s almost true, apart from his weaknesses, mainly Mead, or Beer in today’s parlance. Darth is from Viking times, but he would not listen to anybody, Vikings are a bit like that, so he ended up sailing off the end of the world. The earth is flat after all. Darth screamed, may the gods help me, but they did not, but God did help him.

So, Darth found himself in 1987 alive and in pencil, on a dogeared piece of paper all bound with a shoe lace. Imagine the indignity of it all. Though he did discover that 1987 beer was ok, never as good as Mead, but he could not complain. Darth met the lads from StatsMR computer room and they super glued a red read/write ring to his left ear lobe, and for balance a blue read/write ring to his right ear lobe. They told him he looked so good, and Darth slurred one day Michael Casey will be a famous writer, but the lads just laughed and got another round in. Though Mark Alder drew a cartoon of Michael Casey in the style of William Shakespeare, as he was a comedian.

Now Darth did have a companion, a dwarf a very big dwarf, more like a Michelin Man size dwarf, who drank and belched and farted, but in tune to anything playing on the Jukebox in the Horse Trader bar. Falstaff was so talented that way, though when Falstaff drunk too much, more that 25 pints and 14 packets of crisps and 7 bags of scratchings something horrible happened. No not that. Falstaff would turn Plastic, just like a giant piece of garden furniture. So, the lads had to keep count, or plastic would happen.

So, as it was closing time the lads all scattered, the weekend beckoned, Darth was left to carry a plastic Falstaff away, if he could survive the subway near the small brook, it was said to be dangerous, the lads did warn him to watch out. But Fate came a calling, some other lads out for a weekend of 1987 drinking and wenching saw Darth in Viking gear carrying a giant plastic dwarf on his back, so naturally they laughed and mocked him in the subway next to the Asian food store. Debbie was there and she witnessed what happened and told the Statsy boys on the Monday. The yobs, let’s give them their true name, the yobs mocked Darth and his plastic Falstaff dwarf, it was too much for any Viking to accept. So, Darth dropped the plastic Falstaff and started singing Michael Bolton songs, he was very drunk after all. The yobs laughed and jostled him, Darth was outnumbered but on he sung, Can I Touch You there, Michael Bolton came to the rescue, then plastic Falstaff awoke farting and belching in time to Michael Bolton’s Can I touch You there. A dwarf fart is a mighty weapon, and the yobs were vanquished. Debbie smiled she recognised the read/write rings, and then as Darth outstretched his hand to help Falstaff off the floor, there was a flash, no not because of fart and cigarette combined, though Paul Flash might remember a story about that. No, it was the space time continuum, Darth disappeared into space and time, taking his dwarf friend Falstaff with him.

So, since 1987 Darth and his plastic dwarf friend Falstaff have been in the ether, waiting just waiting for the gods to call him back. Now it’s 2020 and the clock is ticking, the clock is ticking, I just changed the battery, maybe I should change it more often than every 33 years. My clock has chimed, and through the clouds Darth is falling to earth, not a spaceman, but a Viking and a Dwarf, not even a  Red Dwarf, just a grubby beer stained dwarf called Falstaff. May the gods help us screams Darth, again the gods do nothing, but God is listening. Darth and Falstaff fall through the roof of Saint Mary’s where thieves had stolen some lead and there was enough space for a Viking riding and gliding down through the sky sat on a plastic dwarf could fall. Splash landing, Darth and Falstaff land in the Baptismal font. They would get zero for technical merit, but 10 for level of difficulty if this were the Tokyo Olympics diving competition.

After all these years Darth was thirsty so he drunk the Baptismal Font dry as Falstaff awoke and wondered where the nearest pub might be. Climbing out the font, Darth spied the vicar, Quasimodo, it was not her real name but some bright spark had christened her that when she was spotted ringing the church bells, when she had first arrived.

Now the gods may have not listened to Darth, but God had been listening to Quasimodo over and over and over again, she was plain, but she had a heart of gold, if only she could find a man and have a child, one would be enough, somebody to love and be loved by. But who would have her? Darth was a strapping big man, so big he could be Ukrainian, though Darth did explain he was a Viking. Was God playing tricks on her, or was the altar wine too strong. She prayed for a man, and now there were two, both falling through the hole in the roof, she thought they were lead stealers at first, but she could tell they were not. She had done English and History at Queens before getting the call, the vocation, come follow me.

Quasimodo, was a great priest, she spent all her time reading, and not because she as so plain and nobody would ever want her. She was just so terrible shy too. God looked on, he had answered her prayers, twice over, now she could not make her mind up.

Darth should have been here but

Darth should have been here but

he broke into a church to drink the holy water

and ring some bells and hang out with Quasimodo his friend

then he banged his head on a table in a pub

and he's still there sleeping things off

but he promised to pass by and have a Quest

Darth is a viking in a loin clothe a bit like Conan

but he asks better questions, mainly about beer

so come back tomorrow and if he is sober I'll share a Tale about him

Does anybody know what read/write  rings are?

The coloured ones have more power

if your memory goes back 40 years plus then you may have an idea

see you all behind the bike shed in the morning