Snoop Dogg reads the Bible to Trump

Posted bymichaelgcasey25/06/2020Posted inUncategorizedEditSnoop Dog reads the Bible to Trump

So when you get to the church you OPEN the Bible

It’s not Bling

Then you read where it says

Love thy Neighbour as Thyself

and it continues

Whatsoever you do to the Least of my Brethren

you do to ME

Sorry I have to cancel Health care for my own family replies Trump

for the 3rd time as the cock crowds and the tear gas drifts by

Snoop Dogg curses, he uses the worse word of all

in the English language

he uses the T word, Trump

Snoop Dogg cries and repeats the T word over and over again

Cromane Lower Kerry Eire, my mother’s Birthplace

Covid 19 Messaging made Simple

Covid 19 Messaging made Simple

Lots of confusion so here's a simple guide

JUST SHUT YOUR MOUTH

OR wear a MASK

the word CONSPIRE means Breath Together

So if you are breathing together, because you are close

Then you will catch and spread Covid 19

SO JUST SHUT YOUR MOUTH

Fresh air is best, so outside you have a lesser chance of catching and spreading

SO IF YOU ARE CLOSE

Keep your mouth shut

and/or wear a mask

It's as simple as that really

Common Sense perhaps needs to be TAUGHT, for some

Maybe a cartoon and a Pop song

Get the Simpsons to explain it

Otherwise SHUT your MOUTH

remember Shutupa your Face song, so a parody of that

for Covid 19

meantime, Shut Your Mouth

and go back to school, and keep on shopping

now go wash your hands

About Me 24th June 2020

I've updated this today 24th June 2020
I'm Michael Casey from Birmingham England, the fat silver haired writer in shades.
Beware of Others with the EXACT SAME NAME, they are not me, and would not want to be me ...

I've done loads of writing,  about  1,612,000 Words worth over 33 years now
But before I started I LISTENED to BBC Radio 4  for 20 years, from the age of 10 or younger
Frank Brown our lodger, went back to County Tyrone and he gifted us his Bush Radio.
He'd be nearly 100 now if he is still alive, so say a prayer for him
50 years in love with words, and I still look so dashing.
I have a picture in the attic, just like Dorian Gray
I've also had an interest in Politics for 50 years
with my dad heckling the tv and Politicians.

I almost immediately had a hit, a play called Shoplife was accepted but not finally
produced by a Theatre.
The Kenneth More Theatre, so thank them for sparing you all. This was back in 1989 yes, 30 years plus ago, the play was written in 1988. So since then I'm more than good enough, as a writer. Anything else.....

I also had other high praise, so I ignore all the nasty negative people  who use too much alliteration.
I also ignore those who just cannot write.

Today's world has much print, but a page will not refuse ink, as my dad used to say.

I tend to write Comedy as I'd rather make you laugh than cry
I have written over 2000 short pieces of writing, yes 2000
If you include "chats" 2800 samples,
the chats do NOT go into my books when I compile them.
My first book ,a full length comedy/drama is The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker
You can read translations of it here on this site
Up to 10 different languages/translations  have been read on the same day
via this site, here on Wordpress
so you have no excuse, find your own language
and read
The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker

This proves to me that the humour does travel
I have readers in over 80 countries now
From Nepal to American Samoa and all places North South East and West
Or its just a hit man on the run,
or whatever Unknown Region Means
It may also mean that only non English Speakers like my stuff

I did get 21,000 readers in 3 weeks for the Polish  version of In Search of an Indian Princess.
which is basically the final 3 chapters of The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker
all by word of mouth.
If you add up all the downloads from my Wordpress + 13,000 when somebody stole the file. I have had more copies than Boris Johnson's Churchill book distributed. Though Boris earns more than any of us.

I also had a low budget  film producer take a look at it back in 2013

Book Publishers have said I've made the commissioning editor laugh

Radio People say they like my style

So close but no cigar is the story of my life, so all you power people, do something useful
HELP ME REACH FOR THE SKY from my position in the gutter looking at the stars

As for my life, I was a computer operator for a market research company into alcohol sales
21 years altogether
I also was a concierge and 10 other roles at Crowne Plaza NEC Birmingham for 3 years.

I even hid a copy of my comic novel "BBU" in the Law Library at Pinsent Masons, well just for a day..

 and  I was an Esol English teacher in an Islamic school, I knew I could teach.

I got Excellent, Excellent and Exemplary on the external assessment

beside which  I've had a Shanghai connection for 20 years now, including 2 bilingual daughters

and being a hausfrau a long time too, I'm a great dad, as I've had lots of time with my daughters

I can always make somebody talk or laugh, I am an 18 stone George Clooney look alike

Laugh or Die so to speak

I believe my short stories could be used to teach English, just package them up correctly

 or App them

What else, I was brawn and brains, I used to be as strong as an Ox, now I just smell like one

We have a cat called Totoro, my daughters wanted a pet I said they could have a dog if I died , or a cat if I had a heart attack. A few weeks after that in Jan 2015 I had an Unplanned Quadruple  Heart Bypass , it was supposed to be a triple but it ended up a Quadruple,  33% extra free so to speak. Now with an add on Hernia pushing through my bypass scar, it hurts when  I laugh, so don't make me laugh

I also have arthritis and other hindrances that hobble my body and give me pain galore.
But my mind is free, though having read my stories you may wish I didn't bother
But I'll ignore you, and carry on regardless. I do get heckled by my own Tinnitus these past
2 years+, so I have music on all night long to drown it out. I sleep with Miley, Taylor, Eric Clapton and Will Young, maybe I should buy a bigger bed, or just get a better mattress.

That's the end of the tidy version of my life, if you want more come and buy me a Stella Artois and all will be revealed. Though 12 pints a year is my ration.

To finish here's the list of my 19 books, so far:-

1.The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker
2.Shoplife
3.Essays and Plays
4.Blogs 2011
5.300 and Not OUT
6.Shorts 2013
7.More Shorts 2014
8.Quick Stories
9.Still Alive 2015
10.Undiscovered Words 2016
11.Still Smiling 2017
12.Altogether Now
13.New Horizons
14.14 Up
15.15 Down
16.Sweet Sixteen
17. 17 Again
18. 18 New Views
19. The Final Cut of the 19th Hole

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Michael-Casey/e/B00571G0YC  to buy ebooks
I'm working on 2020 Words right now, which may have the banana head on its cover
when I'm ready to launch it at the end of 2020
Tears for a Butcher will be the sequel to BBU, and it too will be 600pages, however I really need
a speed typist to put it down, while I sit and dictate like Barbara Cartland, and hopefully my speed typist would be impressed.
ok, that's your lot,

p.s. Don't forget I have readers all over the world in over 80 Countries now
      and on some days up to TEN different translations of
      The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker are being read, on the same day,
       so Media groups do get in touch
      email michaelgcasey@hotmail.com
               or send a message via Wordpress

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

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?