well it's going to be too hot but I have 2 ideas for pieces today or some day

well it's going to be too hot but I have 2 ideas for pieces today or some day

So Listening to Liars could be one piece

and

Joining the dots could be another

or I may just reload an old piece or two

there are 2000 stories here

plus 800 chats and so on, like this

you can go count if you have nothing better to do

you've all seen the home make over programmes

and the chef cooking  programmes

I write like that, I see what's available and away I go

for example this morning

Turkish translation is being read

So Turkey, turkish delight a sweet, delight a word, to belly  dancing

if you follow that then you can see the beginning of a story

if not. You need to be a carpenter instead

But carpenters see in wood and build

then I have a desk and table, so I can bore you all

yes the carpenter is much more useful

that's enough for now, look back later and see what I have for you

******

I just looked on my list here's a quicky

from November 2011

What's in a word? ©


by

Michael Casey


Whats in a word, is it an an insult waiting to be heard?

Is it a joke between the guys in the bar, looking at the waitress from afar?

Is it something we cannot utter because we begin to stutter?

Is it something that we mutter because our words are from the gutter.

Does the boss deserve our scorn because the low pay leaves us all forlorn?

Do we say nice words but mean the opposite?

Are smiles unspoken words which are really weapons ready to be thrust in the back.

Do we care if we are given the sack, then we'd say what we really want to say, 

then the dam would burst

and words pouring out would quench our thirst for justice, 

words to make us feel better as we head for the

labour office.

Words of love and words of caring, words of sharing , 

words bringing hearts closer together no matter whatever

the weather .

Words of love and words of war, when we say too much or not enough.

 IF only becomes the the last words

on our lips , its our "rosebud" as our spirit floats above.

Perhaps the best words of all are "I just want to be your friend" 

"love thy neighbour as thyself"

For me my best words are "I just want to make the whole world laugh"

 https://www.amazon.co.uk/Michael-Casey/e/B00571G0YC/ref=dp_byline_cont_ebooks_1


p.s.Now a good writer would have ended on "love thy neighbour as thyself" but like anybody who wants to be a writer , they always want the last word themselves, even if the Lord's words are so much better. I await the avalanche of criticism, but if you stop for 2 seconds by putting this 

p.s. WHO'S last words ARE the first word, IN the beginning.....

I finally did my garden

I finally did my garden

I just walked down the road to the Walled Garden

I bought some plants, flowering ones

Then I put them in the 4 empty pots

Were my daughters' neglect had  killed the previous occupants

So with a blessing from my dead mum, who had green fingers up to her elbow

Then I hope we'll have a splash of colour in front of the house

I also wrote a new story today, a few hours ago, The Flower Man

I added me holding roses as the picture with the story

I'd just finished it when I had a marketing email

So I sent it to Tribit, i hope they like the free name-check

So that was my day, and best of all the pain monster seems to have lessened

I had a smaller spike on my Michael Casey from Birmingham England site  too

I did need to lie down for a rest on the sofa behind me

It was the warmest day of the year

I may run around the garden naked in the moonlight

But the neighbours might think I am a werewolf

The local foxes might be upset too

And finally Italy used a search referring to a fox trap

to get to the Italian Translation of The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker

Not unless Pope Benedict is back from Germany

and now continuing to read me but in Italian now

Germany was reading me the other day

It's a tale with a moral after all

So good night and I hope Tinnitus stays away tonight

As it is killing me softly, like the song

The Flower Man

The Flower Man ©

By Michael Casey

Kevin was the Flower Man, that’s what everybody called him. Some did not even know he was a Kevin. Kevin is a name some mock, like Colin, that’s Colin, not Co – Lin as the American general is called, though Co – Lin could possible be one of my Chinese relatives, but maybe I’m Nameist, whatever. Maybe we just laugh more here in England, you’ll have to visit and find out for yourself.

How did Kevin lose his name and become the Flower Man? Well that’s easy he used to work in Patrick’s Bakery in Old Forge and Singing Anvil, so he was always covered in flour, and smelt of baguettes, that was before the French brothers took over the day to day running of the bakery. So as Kevin was toast, as far bakery was concerned, he decides he’d have a change.

Kevin did not want to smell of bread anymore, and humping sacks of flour had given him a bad back over the years. He had enough of people joking that his dandruff was too bad, it really was the flour dust on his shoes. Though not always, as Kevin had smelly feet too, so sometimes he put talcum powder inside his shoes to soak up the sweat. Only it seeped though his shoes, and left dust on them. He was forever white on his shoes, no diamonds on his shoes, just talc or flour dust. People mock you for trying to save their noses, so Kevin decided when he left the bakery, he’d really get up people’s noses, he’d open a flower shop.

So Kevin opened his little flour shop, he did think to call in Dandruff flowers, but in the end cheap alliteration won, Delightful Flowers, I know that’s not alliteration, but nobody knew what the word alliteration meant either, so that’s what he said and everybody believed him. All except a teacher, called Rosy Wallclimber, yes she really was called Rosy, and Wallclimber was some obscure German name corrupted over the decades. But more about Rosy later.

Kevin and his flower shop just grew and grew, like Rosemary, or like Japanese knotweed. Kevin just had the knack with flowers and little potted plants. He was the talk of Old Forge and Singing Anvil. If only he knew he had green fingers up to his elbows decades ago, then his back wouldn’t play him up. Business blossomed like a Cherry Orchard tree, and with a bunch of his best bouquet love did blossom under the maple tree in the corner of the cemetery. That’s where lovers loved with just the dead as witnesses, well in Old Forge and Singing Anvil that is. There are special places everywhere in the world, here in Old Forge and Singing Anvil that’s one place, I’d blush if I elaborated.

Now Rosy Wallclimber bought some roses for Miss Lump the Maths teacher who was her dear friend, she had just had another baby. You may remember Miss Lump had a cat called Tororo who was a bad cat but wasn’t, you can look it up for yourselves. Now Miss Lump was so lucky to find Tomas Martin the Vet to be her one true love, when she could have stayed all alone. Her best friend was Rosy Wallclimber who taught English, so Rosy laughed when Kevin said Delightful Flowers was alliteration, how could he know she was a teacher, and a Primary school English teacher. They  just clicked, even though Kevin was 20 years older.

So Rosy Wallclimber was forever buying flowers  from Kevin, or The Flower Man I should say. When she gave him her card to pay for the flowers it was his turn to laugh, and that’s what brought them together. Laughter. And Rosy’s car broke down, so while she waiting in the flower shop she did some marking of the kid’s books. She felt totally at home amongst the flowers.  So she used to pop in and use his big counter to mark the kids’ books.

Now Rosy was getting older now, nothing wilting yet, but she knew she’d never be married and have kids like the former Miss Lump. But she was happy, and amongst  all the flowers she felt doubly happy.  She had a dizzy spell one day, she was too busy to stop and eat, which is deadly if you are diabetic, so Kevin the Flower Man said lay on the counter, while he dead headed some plants in the back. So Rosy lay on the counter holding a potted plant on her belly, the smell of violets would revive her. Percy the Undertaker here in Old Forge and Singing Anvil did a double take as he walked by, he thought it could be work for him.

So a few hours later Rosy arose and after a minute remembered where she was,  Kevin asked did she want a cuppa, so they had a cuppa. And maybe she had a dream, or it was too much alliteration, but Rosy decided she wanted a man, just like in the song, by Annie Lenox. Was it wrong? She’d been using his counter for 3 years now, and she just loved been surrounded by flowers. So Rosy twinkled and Kevin twinkled back, she turned the sign to closed and pulled down the shutters. English teachers have a mastery of words, and she went through the alphabet with him, she alliterated him. In return he planted his seeds and gently stroked her hair. Nature has a time for everything, a Season, Rosy was in season and maybe without reason, she was no longer green, but would flourish.

Rosy Wallclimber climbed all over Kevin the Flower Man, and yes of course she flowered. Was it wrong, she was 20 years younger, and now had a bun in the oven from the former baker. Rosy was delighted and so was Kevin, breaking bread as a family would be so so nice. And yes they had twins, and 2 more sets of twins afterwards, Rosy really was a Wallclimber. She had a bit of money saved too, and she’d need it now. They had a tiny Tribit speaker  installed in the flower shop, to help the flowers grow and to serenade the 3 sets of twins. It was more multiplication than alliteration, but Rosy was happy. Love had climbed the wall of age, and she could always have a nap on the counter in the shop.

i know myself

I know myself ©

By

Michael Casey

Well as promised here’s “I know myself” which is what my small daughter said in passing, hence that’s why you are getting this now. The delay if you noticed was because the pain monster decide to visit for a few days, though as I speak I’m still on the hook, it’s like having a meat hook through your chest and you swing from it. Or you are a piece of meat and Rocky is hammering you as you swing there, and no nothing to do with Swingers whatever they are. I just opened a memory then, “Swinging Dodgers Elsie Tanner” where you give a thumbs up and then gyrate it up and down, or down and up, if you want to prove you don’t misuse language stereotypes. That comes from the playground in 1966 maybe. See I’ll use any old material that floats to the top from my bottom, or from my bottom memories. Perfect for a Writer, or bore, you decide.

Now do you know yourself? I think most people don’t. Which might mean I’ve mixed with people who are blind drunk, or never look in a mirror. Stop and think. Do you really really know your own character? Not the one you play if you are an actor, or the persona you put on to protect yourself. Or the one you have for grannie in the hope she leaves you her money.

Hello to Turkmenistan too, they were reading my stuff today, they have wealth, so why read me? Is it a punishment from your dad, or do you want to buy my stories to help teach English? Now I’ve mentioned this is passing because, the next question is, what is your price. Can you be bought? Or do you really really know yourself. Watson in Elementary said a Billion dollars was her price. I’d settle for 10 million, a house, a car for my daughters, and a puppy dog, then I’d give 90% of all future earnings to Pain Charities. Now that’s my price, just in case Turkmenistan wants to hire me, though 5feet 10, and that’s just around my belly is high enough. And no I’m not high, just I have a surreal sense of humour.

You should all know by now that I side track myself, and lead you all  up the garden path, past Gill from StatsMR, and into the land of fairies, or fairy tales, which might best describe my writing. See I’ve just proved I know myself. What  about you. If you find a pound in the street you think you are lucky. What if it’s a £20 note? Do you think, beers for me and the lads? Or do you look around, just in case somebody may have dropped it. It could even be your own grannie. I did actually find £20 floating around Lidl on the Dudley Rd, on my way back from the hospital. And yes, I gave it to the security guard, and because nobody claimed it, a local beggar got it, as I instructed. So, there you go, I am either stupid, or mad, or I have been brought up properly. Remember too my mum was from Kerry, born in a “pig sty” as somebody remarked, and did not move to the new house till she was 12, you’ve all seen the stone structure I’ve posted on occasions. So, my values come from 1920s Ireland. Though as my dad would say about some people, “they could not be honest even if you paid them”. The next question obviously is what if it were a wallet? Well if there was a bank card inside would you rush home to use it. Or walk to the bank where the card belonged, and hand it in, so they could trace him.

Knowing yourself is not just about honesty as far as money goes. It’s about deciding when to keep the pound on the ground, or should you look. I’ve picked up a women’s purse at a busy crossings down the road, and saved her day. Knowing how your personality is means you might be more careful. Alcohol means you get your knickers off, so don’t drink, or have  a sober person there to protect you, male of female. Ditto with driving, alcohol and cars do not mix, they are not a cocktail, I spent years observing my drinking friends. Yes, alcohol is good, it relaxes and binds people together, in teams, in clubs, and so on. I have also spent decades watching alcoholics, so in my family none of us ever became drinkers. We could see the alcoholic lodgers as we grew up, one even died on me while was I still 20, so you know and learn things as you grow up. You may have had a family member who was a junkie, or a pothead, or a shoplifter. Whatever way you grew up it does influence your behaviour. But, you are NOT a prisoner to environment, yes it is harder, but you can do it. Education or Sport even Prayer is a way out, you can pick your own heroes.

So, in life you have to be strong and choose what is best for you. You may decide being a thief suits you best, or you just love a drink. When my dad was recovering after his near fatal heart attack in 1996, just 8 weeks after mum died in the marriage bed beside him, we had one of our lodgers come visit him in hospital. What did X say? Have you got a pound for a pint? I was there, perhaps I should have punched X. But it does illustrate what a waste of time Alcohol is, if it brings you down that low. You can argue the toss about Alcoholism  as a Disease, or just weak people? I’ll leave it for you to think about.

I could give more examples, but having experience in life does teach you, or at least inform you. Then you can choose, and you can argue amongst yourselves. Inner cities are bad, I know, where I grew up would be classed as one. But if a steelworker and a blacksmith from Kerry Ireland can have 4 of his 6 kids become teachers, with one via Oxford and another  via Cambridge, and me the “failure” with 19 books already written, 1,600,000 words, or 8000 pages, then you should all have a try.

If you know yourself, if you spend time reflecting, not just surfing the web, then you can amaze yourself. I used to work shifts 3 days 3 nights 3 off 3 evenings 3 nights etc and worse. They were long days and nights, in the end 12 hour night shifts, and for 14 years. So, I was lucky because midweek was free, and the weekend temptations just were not there in the 1980s, so I chose Radio, BBC Radio 4, which is like internal World Service. That was my education, 20 hours a week+, though I did start when I was ten or younger.

Yes, to some of you I can hear you already saying “boring fart”, yes but you are reading this, can you write? If you can then good for you. There is no money in it, not unless one of your 80 country readership finally decides to invest in you. I’m still hoping, maybe it’s Turkmenistan, but probably not, but I do know myself, what about you?

KPOP saves the world

Posted bymichaelgcasey21/06/2020Posted inUncategorizedEditKPOP saves the world

K POP saves the World ©

By

Michael Casey

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So what are we to do?

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

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

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

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

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

****** I wrote this on 14th September 2017

I woke up early this morning so I thought I’d repost it. Donald where’s your trousers?

this was published in KOREA 3 years ago in a small English language “newspaper”

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random post while the pain monster attacks me

As the pain monster has come out to play, not much new material the past few days

there are 2800+ pieces here on my Blogger . Butcher BakER uNDERTAKER  ONE

FORGIVE TYPOS

SO  here's a random post

from march 2017

you work it out

Posturing and Posing and Fiddling Their Expenses ©

By Michael Casey

I was just watching the Press Preview on Sky, Maguire and Pierce always make me laugh, the Punch and Judy of press reviewers. I thought because of today’s events I just had to give my two penny worth. I was amazed that people thought that Sturgeon was given praise for her Political ambush, I thought it was an obvious thing to happen.

I have been a serious news junkie for 50 years now, since I was a child watching Sir Robin Day on tv. As I thought about what to call today’s piece I said to myself they always posture and pose and then fiddle their expenses, so that’s where tonight’s title came from.

I can remember Chas Baird say “Devolution or Revolution” in a Folk club 40 years ago. I can also remember him switching off the PA when a Piper came to play, it certainly cleared the wax from my ears, and yes it was Great too. We were watching Andrew Rieux on tv  tonight as well, then there was a girl in an evening dress play the pipes. It was not Nicola Sturgeon, but the effect was the same, loud and dramatic and just as strong willed.

I admire her strong willed people, but reality has to click in too. If the oil price has been cut in half, where is the money going to come from if the milk cow, England and the rest of the UK no longer pays the piper, Nicola or whoever it is.

No doubt many Scots will hate me, just as Trump would if I ask him to prove who let the dog out, or who’s been tapping him, he’d no doubt swing at me, but not with a golf club. Though he is ½ Scots himself, and it is WRONG to destroy his golf courses by carving them up as a protest.

One figure which really saddened me there was a recent Election I think in California and guess what only 11% bothered to vote, yes only 11%. So if you cannot be bothered to go out and vote then you really do get the Government you Deserve.  So Go Out and Vote.

Polling Stations should be readily accessible, not like an Easter Egg hunt, follow the path till it ends then spin around till when you get dizzy and it’s to the left of the pool of sick where other voters pukes due to all the dizziness. Messing with boundaries and making it hard for people to get to vote because polling places close for 3 hours for a siesta, and then finish early so that the cleaners can clean ready for nude aerobics in the morning is no excuse. Democracy should be seen to be done and not hide the opposite party’s faults, otherwise the public, The we the people are being mooned at by the Establishment.

Yes Politics is very entertaining and unbelievable, especially USA politics if you watch it on Sky, Fox, CNN or BBC. Though as an impartial observer I think it’s sad that Albanian politicians have been barred from Electioneering across the EU, as it might incite trouble amongst the street cleaning workforce EU wide. Or maybe my mixed metaphors are too mixed up for comprehension. Then me and Sturgeon will have confused all the Press tonight.

In the end we need Honesty in Politics, you do things to Help people, and you should be honest enough to say I got it wrong, and can we start all over instead of clinging to the deck of the Titanic. Yes very naïve, but perhaps we should remember what Christ said “Render what is Caesar’s to Caesar, and what is God’s to God.” But then we should also remember what happened to Caesar on the Ides of March, which is tomorrow.

Welcome back American Samoa to wordpress

Posted bymichaelgcasey19/06/2020Posted inUncategorizedEditWelcome back American Samoa

well it’s like going to to the end of the world, just to avoid Covid 19 or is it Donald Trump

but thank you all for being my most far fetched readers

I hope you enjoy the stories here and on my blogger

https://butcherbakerundertaker.blogspot.com/

if you email michaelgcasey@hotmail.com with AMERICIAN SAMOA in the subject line

you will get a reply. I don’t care if you are the toilet cleaner or a billionaire

talking is good for everybody

Stay safe and read as much as you need

though if you are a toilet cleaner you may just puke at my writing

and have to clean up after yourself

or if you are a billionaire you may want to invest in my writing

or visit Birmingham, just to dunk me in Victoria Square fountain

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