Wednesday, 15 November 2023

Fear is the Key

Fear is the Key

Posted bymichaelgcaseyPosted inUncategorizedEditFear is the Key

This is how Trump wins votes from Morons

This is why he should be in Jail already

For advocating VIOLENCE

Hitler got away with it, then took over

Sadly in USA, everybody assumes a right to SHOUT

There is no Balance

Nobody talks, they just shout

and Sadly Trump’s ignorance has the most followers

Trump must be challenged Night and Day

Before his Revenge Tour gets a chance to even start

SO

He should be stopped in Mid-Sentence constantly

Over here in UK, he would be knocked off his perch

Like a Parrot screaming CURSES

Polly is not Pretty

and Neither is Trump

He is a Sad Old Man who has been spoilt and Nobody should listen to him

The End , hopefully

Trump and Putin in a Prison Cell

Published by michaelgcasey

I've updated this 18th March 2022 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 ... use Google UK to find me, otherwise Posh Americans pop up I've done loads of writing, about 2,000,000 Words worth over 34years now But before I started to write, 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 54 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 54 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 ignore those who just cannot write, pick your own candidate 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 " (c) by Michael Casey" If you include "chats" 3700 samples, all told, 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 20 different languages/translations have been read on the same day via this site, here on Wordpress look fo Translations Galore page, and more And in over 90 Countries world wide too so you have no excuse, find your own language and read The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker or Quick Stories or any other of the books in Translation on my Wordpress This proves to me that the humour does travel I have readers in over 100 countries now, just to repeat myself 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 Coverage but lacking penetration as marketing folks might say 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. And 50,000 plus in Christmas week 2021 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. Maybe 40,000 copies . Not made a penny from it, free downloads in multiple languages. Reverse Logic, if the world knows me, eventually somebody will pay me But in reality I'll be dead first, and then just 2 pennies to pay the ferryman is enough I've cut the Plaudits, you can read/decide for yourself As for my life, I was born in the shadow of a Brewery, I was a computer operator for a market research company into alcohol sales, 21 years altogether, StatsMR Call centre guy, like everybody once in their life I was also a Trainee Betting Shop Manager I was a concierge and 10 other roles at Crowne Plaza NEC Birmingham for 3 years. Spent 3 years at Pinsent Masons Law firm in Birmingham I even hid a copy of my comic novel "BBU" in the Law Library at Pinsent Masons, well just for a day.. I did a few other jobs too, working life in reverse so to speak and I was an Esol English teacher in an Islamic school, for a year, I knew I could teach. I got Excellent, Excellent and Exemplary on the external assessment, yes really And I asked them to pray for me at least once a day 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 believe my short stories could be used to teach English, just package them up correctly or App them Or a Tale a Day from Michael, a story telling App 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, the size of your fist, 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 3 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. Tinnitus is a curse, just trust me I know, each day I wake up, Tinnitus SCREAMS at me for a full hour till it calms down That's the end of the tidy version of my life To finish here's the list of my 20 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 20. 2020 Words 21. 21 Door Keys, key to the door 21 on Bingo, hence title, 53,000 words so far I write bullet point stuff mainly now as Tinnitus stops me from getting in the zone to write, story stories. (c) by Michael Casey stuff though my bullet points are better than some "writers" discuss, miaow. That's why I dream of a speed typist, so I could dictate from the sofa https://www.amazon.co.uk/Michael-Casey/e/B00571G0YC to buy ebooks Loads of Korean and Arabic translations downloaded from my Wordpress, 1000s of them Quick Stories in Korean is a big hit. Maybe Kim in North Korea should read my books, instead of wasting his countries resources on what? Just keeping one person in power, him? Instead of joining the real world and opening a string on golf courses. That way we could get rid of Trump too. Into the sunset, as they play golf. 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. we'd marry have half Korean kids, and form a Kpop band with our 4 new kids, with me as manager. And yes this is more for my bucket list, as Tinnitus keeps me awake too much, 6 months of not sleeping till dawn is really killing me Michael Casey aka the fat silver haired writer in shades from Birmingham England https://2.gravatar.com/avatar/efda2dca0de5b9269191b7c8b0102473?s=400&d=mm 

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Tuesday, 14 November 2023

my tinnitus is dangerous today

my tinnitus is dangerous today

it seems to be getting worse too

maybe like the writing I can hear you all say

I'm listening to JT at the moment

in the vain hope he distracts my brain from the pain

yes, pain, at the levels I have, Tinnitus causes pain

and it forces me chin down to my chest

maybe i'll convulse a bit later on

yes really, I was in hospital for 3 days 

was it a year ago, but nothing fixed

at least I got my hearing back finally 

the hearing girl at the clinic was

a really nice Indian girl

and the hearing clinic was just beside

the STD disease clinic

I knew it could may you go blind

but deaf as well

I had to slap on NEEM and HEMP

on my shoulder as the pain was too much to type

now I'm waiting for a parcel to come

my daughter at University ordered something

for her Law student friend, a pretty Indian girl

an Indian delivery boy will deliver it

should I introduce them to each other

Matchmaker Michael Maybe

I said hello to a passing childminder with red hair

she had 3 kids with her today, so I said my mother had 6

and a cat and a dog, and 5 to 8 lodgers too

That was my childhood

as I talk to you the Tinnitus is unbearable

so you are all distraction therapy

i'd rather have some body to distract me

the pain from my shoulder has just kicked in again

so i type with one hand only

i raise the volume on JT, but certain tones trigger me

so i have to be careful

true, i'm not making this up

so big companies DONATE TO TINNITUS RESEARCH

and I've spotted Singapore reading me again, so thanks

after the Summer Binge maybe you had enough

and USA, White House maybe, thank you too

I annoy the Russians on a daily basis, and copy it to you

Everybody has email, so annoy everybody

as  a footballer I know can testify, private joke that

that's enough for now

the pain and noise is too much

and yes I can hear you all say

thank god, he's shutting up

you are all so cruel

maybe I should get a job in Ricky's Cabinet instead


picture is by my artist daughter , BSc is Bio Chemisty and prettier than any model too

she must get her looks from me






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Sunday, 12 November 2023

Brand New Story 12/11/23. The Bad Lads Rosary

Brand New Story 12/11/23

maybe Texas won't like it

so I get up at 6.30 after a few hours of battling Tinnitus

I have toast and tea and let Totoro our cat out

she is an outdoor cat for sure

as is my habit I say a Rosary, always 3

and that tires me enough so I can go back to bed

and get another 2 hours of sleep

before the need to pee and the roar of Tinnitus comes and gets me

So as I was sat in the dark before Dawn arrives

I looked at myself a Gorilla with a Rosary

with a Barry White dressing gown with a hood like a Monk

and I had the story in my head almost instantly

I could not think of a good title as I finished 

not 3 but 6 Rosaries

and if you say I'm holy or pious

I'll smack you in the mouth

and now in that moment I have a title

so here is a new story, I hope I can put it down

before Tinnitus comes and gets me again

for it is tide or bad wind rising

now read on

The Bad Lads Rosary ©

By

Michael Casey


Jorge was a bad lad, a very bad lad indeed, but he and his friends did like to have a friendly card game whenever they met. They had a table in a corner all to themselves, with bottles in the centre to share, Mezcal was their poison, Tequila was for little girls as far as they were concerned.


Jorge was not very tall, but if you called him short he’d punch your teeth out, he was a sensitive man after all. He has a cousin a dentist, a real dentist, so he always dropped his cousin’s name card on the ground every time he broke somebody’s teeth. He was a charitable man after all, and yes he had sparkling teeth, a thank you from his cousin, family should look after each other after all.


Now once Jorge stumbled over a body in the mud, in all the rain he could not see where he was going, he was going to kick it as he cursed. But the body moved, so he rolled it over, maybe he could steal the wallet. As he held the empty wallet in his hand a Holy Picture, a plastic one fell out, it was San Martin de Porres and a plastic Rosary a bright red one, such as child might have. Martin was his cousins name, the dentist so Jorge decided to save the beggar in the street, instead of robbing him.


And yes the beggar in the street, was actually a young missionary priest, lost and beaten in the street. So, Jorge saved Paul from Peterborough England. He got him a room in the local whore house and said look after him, and so Paul was bandaged and fed for a month, by the local girls. While Jorge went about earning his daily bread. When Jorge returned he settled the bill, and had his fill of the girls too, before coming to see Paul in his room.


Paul said he could never repay his kindness, for Jorge had saved his life, but Jorge replied I did not save you, San Martin de Porres did, besides Martin is my cousin’s name, a dentist. It was him that came to see you, we don’t have a doctor for 100s of miles away. Paul said, all I can offer are prayers, and maybe let me wipe the slate clean by hearing your Confession. Jorge laughed till he cried, but it might make great entertainment.


So, you can wipe the slate clean? So then Jorge began, it took 2 hours and 3 bottles of Mezcal and then he was done, it was only his 2nd confession ever. Paul was absolutely horrified. Are you sorry for your sins? I am slurred Jorge, maybe I’d be a better man if I had education like my dentist cousin. Paul blessed him, your sins are forgiven, try not to sin again. And what is my penance? Paul handed him the child’s bright red Rosary. My grandmother gave me this and that’s how I became a Priest. For your Penance, an Infinity of Rosaries, every single day for the rest of your life you will say 3 Rosaries and to make sure, here is San Martin de Porres as well, as he handed him the plastic Holy Picture. 


But these are your most treasured things, said Jorge a tear in his eye, that’s why I’m giving them to you replied Paul, or should I say Fr.Paul.


Now let’s back to the card game, Jorge called for a break and took out his Rosary and began to say his penance. 5 very hard men at a table loaded with money and Mezcal, with one saying a Rosary.  Laughter rang out from others in the room, but the friends at the table took out their guns with one hand, and with their free hand they dug out battered Rosaries their Abueltitas had given them, and made them swear they would always keep in their pocket, so Abuelitas from Heaven could keep an eye on them. So, Jorge continued and his friends joined in.


As for the others in the room, they joined in too using their fingers to count off the Hail Marys. It became known as Fr.  Pauls Whores Rosary society. Now am I being disrespectful?  Or is Pray for those in need. Prayers should be said in every situation,  and Paul was like Saul a flash to the heart not on the road to Damascus, but deep in the Jungle of South America.


And that is my new story, different to what I had in my head this morning, but fundamentally the same. And take it from me Rosary works and maybe one day I’ll steal Pope Francis’s Rosary from his back trouser pocket, he should put it under his pillow like Padre Pio. And yes I’ve already started my Infinity of Rosaries, what about you?

The Bad Lads Rosary ©

By

Michael Casey


Jorge was a bad lad, a very bad lad indeed, but he and his friends did like to have a friendly card game whenever they met. They had a table in a corner all to themselves, with bottles in the centre to share, Mezcal was their poison, Tequila was for little girls as far as they were concerned.


Jorge was not very tall, but if you called him short he’d punch your teeth out, he was a sensitive man after all. He has a cousin a dentist, a real dentist, so he always dropped his cousin’s name card on the ground every time he broke somebody’s teeth. He was a charitable man after all, and yes he had sparkling teeth, a thank you from his cousin, family should look after each other after all.


Now once Jorge stumbled over a body in the mud, in all the rain he could not see where he was going, he was going to kick it as he cursed. But the body moved, so he rolled it over, maybe he could steal the wallet. As he held the empty wallet in his hand a Holy Picture, a plastic one fell out, it was San Martin de Porres and a plastic Rosary a bright red one, such as child might have. Martin was his cousins name, the dentist so Jorge decided to save the beggar in the street, instead of robbing him.


And yes the beggar in the street, was actually a young missionary priest, lost and beaten in the street. So, Jorge saved Paul from Peterborough England. He got him a room in the local whore house and said look after him, and so Paul was bandaged and fed for a month, by the local girls. While Jorge went about earning his daily bread. When Jorge returned he settled the bill, and had his fill of the girls too, before coming to see Paul in his room.


Paul said he could never repay his kindness, for Jorge had saved his life, but Jorge replied I did not save you, San Martin de Porres did, besides Martin is my cousin’s name, a dentist. It was him that came to see you, we don’t have a doctor for 100s of miles away. Paul said, all I can offer are prayers, and maybe let me wipe the slate clean by hearing your Confession. Jorge laughed till he cried, but it might make great entertainment.


So, you can wipe the slate clean? So then Jorge began, it took 2 hours and 3 bottles of Mezcal and then he was done, it was only his 2nd confession ever. Paul was absolutely horrified. Are you sorry for your sins? I am slurred Jorge, maybe I’d be a better man if I had education like my dentist cousin. Paul blessed him, your sins are forgiven, try not to sin again. And what is my penance? Paul handed him the child’s bright red Rosary. My grandmother gave me this and that’s how I became a Priest. For your Penance, an Infinity of Rosaries, every single day for the rest of your life you will say 3 Rosaries and to make sure, here is San Martin de Porres as well, as he handed him the plastic Holy Picture. 


But these are your most treasured things, said Jorge a tear in his eye, that’s why I’m giving them to you replied Paul, or should I say Fr.Paul.


Now let’s back to the card game, Jorge called for a break and took out his Rosary and began to say his penance. 5 very hard men at a table loaded with money and Mezcal, with one saying a Rosary.  Laughter rang out from others in the room, but the friends at the table took out their guns with one hand, and with their free hand they dug out battered Rosaries their Abueltitas had given them, and made them swear they would always keep in their pocket, so Abuelitas from Heaven could keep an eye on them. So, Jorge continued and his friends joined in.


As for the others in the room, they joined in too using their fingers to count off the Hail Marys. It became known as Fr.  Pauls Whores Rosary society. Now am I being disrespectful?  Or is Pray for those in need. Prayers should be said in every situation,  and Paul was like Saul a flash to the heart not on the road to Damascus, but deep in the Jungle of South America.


And that is my new story, different to what I had in my head this morning, but fundamentally the same. And take it from me Rosary works and maybe one day I’ll steal Pope Francis’s Rosary from his back trouser pocket, he should put it under his pillow like Padre Pio. And yes I’ve already started my Infinity of Rosaries, what about you?




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