The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker

Thursday 18 April 2024

The Priest and The Playboy a repeat

Monday 1 July 2019

The Priest and The Playboy

The Priest and The Playboy ©
By
Michael Casey

Mrs Murphy’s eyes were wild she just felt so much guilt, and all because she wanted the toilet, now Big Sid might die, it was all her fault, it had to be she was a Catholic after all. So again she went outside the church and asked could Father Dan come home, her eyes were beseeching. Just as a mother would beg for a stay of execution for her only son, now she wanted her Father Dan.

The Chinese Billionaire quietly asked a wounded Smiling Paul where might this Father Dan be. He’s in China somewhere up a mountainside somewhere, they are building a huge damn nearby, and he is building a new church higher up, away from where the damn will flood the land. The Chinese Billionaire looked at his host the English aristocrat, if he is in China then I will bring him home to her. Then he took his phone out and rang his friend in the Chinese ministry of development. Two minutes later all was arranged. The priest would be coming home. Ordinarily it might take days to get the priest to Shanghai Pudon airport but there was no time to waste. A way would be found.

Thanking his friend in China the Billionaire asked were his grandchildren still thinking of coming England to improve their English, he actually switched to English so the aristocrat could understand. I have a friend who could possibly teach them to ride and could arrange secure accommodation. The aristocrat smiled, so it was all arranged. With that the aristocrat reached for his phone, hello Zara how’s the big man, if you have any spare time would you be able to teach some friends to ride. So that was all arranged the Queen’s granddaughter would help with the riding lessons.

The aristocrat was still feeling angry regarding the shooting of Big Sid, the whole of England was. So he asked Spencer his manservant to fetch his Pearlys he’d have some target practice. As Spencer loaded the shotguns the aristocrat fired at targets another member of the staff flew into the air. Do you shoot asked the aristocrat? Unfortunately not with those kind of guns. As Spencer bent to pick up a dropped cartridge his own sidearm fell to the floor. The Billionaire picked it up, careful its loaded. The Billionaire smiled and disassembled it in under 30 seconds. Well it’s safe now, and as Spencer smiled in admiration the Billionaire reassembled it. Might I try as a target with this? And so he did. Yes he was just as skilled as the aristocrat. Spencer brought out more ammunition for the sidearm and the the aristocrat and the Billionaire has a good hour of stress relief. When you have 10,000 acres you won’t disturb your neighbours with all the banging.

NOW THIS WILL BECOME PART OF THE FINALE OF Tears for a Butcher
I’ll try and finish this section of the jigsaw in the next few days. I have it all written in my head, but I don’t think I have it on paper anywhere.
The Priest and the Playboy bond and kick ass bigtime, and The Playboy learns to respect his father again. He even finds his one true love in Birmingham, of course she is Chinese too. There will be lots of Kung Fu action and so forth, if ever the Tale gets to be filmed.

Shanghai Film Corp do get in touch

and I’ll dictate the story to you.

so come back later and I’ll post it as FINISHED The Priest and The Playboy and also hello to Japan and Korea for passing by again. Everybody is welcome. Maybe you could both use my stories to help teach English via Comedy in both your countries.

ACTUALLY I HAVE WRITTEN A BIT MORE SO COME BACK AFTER YOU READ THIS AND WHEN i’VE EXPANDED ON IT ALL ANOTHER DAY

Chapter Ten Tears for Butcher

Chapter Ten Tears for a Butcher ©

Michael Casey

Big Sid had ambled into the Post Office he wanted to change for his till, so naturally he had stopped to talk to Mrs Murphy who was telling the world that June beside her was expecting a 2^nd child. Sid held baby Sheila in his arms like a Saint Christopher and told her she’d soon have a playmate. It was while he was holding the infant that 3 armed men in motorbike helmets broke into the Post Office. But for that he would have immediately charged them like a raging bull, but he was holding the infant so he had to control himself.

The alarm rang, and Sgt Mulholland had coincidentally pulled up outside, so a siege ensued. Now I won’t give you all the details of the siege here, but Big Sid immediately made sure that his bulk was in between the 2 Mrs Murphys and the infant. Over his dead body would any harm come to them. And on the siege endured. It turned out the robbers were at the wrong Post Office. They should have been at the Hope Avenue Post Office, the very big one the other side of town. That’s what happens when you don’t know how to use a Sat Nav.

Big Sid’s friend the Professor from Birmingham Medical school had been leading a conference of surgeons, and Jake Powers an American surgeon had wanted to say Hi. He’d heard how the Professor had used Big Sid in a lecture and BQ and wanted to meet Big Sid in person. He was going to emulate the idea back home in Dallas, imitation is the sincerest form of flatter. Jake Powers was tall and lean and proudly wore his cowboy boots and hat, he was the son of a rancher after all.

So the Professor and the American happened to be at Big Sid’s butcher’s before Jake Powers would take old Michael’s taxi to the airport. There is no such thing as coincidence only the Will of God, and maybe Big Sid had friends in the Highest of places. The Professor waited and was told that Big Sid had gone to to the Post Office. Then the siege began. The Professor looked at his good friend, you don’t want to miss your flight do you? Jake Powers looked him in the eye, just in case, just in case I think I’ll stay. Besides I did not have time for a drink in the Trader. Jake Powers had never had alcohol in his life, so the Professor smiled.

The Professor whispered into his phone, the nearest hospital is Dudley Rd hospital, the one opposite Saint Patrick’s church. Can Blue team assemble this is not a drill, he looked up at Jake Powers, just in case. Just in case repeated Jake Powers. I better let my friends know I’ll not be on the plane home. So Jake Powers phoned his friends who had by now gathered around a tv at the Birmingham airport. Collectively they were Dallas’s best trauma and gunshot team. We understand they said, and where is the standby hospital? Dudley Rd, opposite Saint Patrick’s church.

In a nanosecond the team decided to heck with the flight we might be needed. However they were a full hour away from the hospital. So Dean Marvin a surgeon from Dallas stepped outside and whispered into the ear of a bored Policeman. And with that they boarded their coach and the coach driver was told by PC Jones to stay right up his arse. So with a Police escort a coach full of the world’s greatest surgeons were on their way to join Blue team. It was the first week on the job for Ken the coach driver, with a new coach firm who were desperate for work if only they could get some publicity.

Well God works in mysterious ways, Sky was covering the seige now, and their helicopter saw the coach right up PC Jones’ arse as instructed. The A team was on it’s was, let’s pray they are not needed.

Singing Anvil Coaches were all over Sky news, a free advert as Ken drove like a bat out of hell on his way to the hospital.

Everybody was calm at the siege. The robbers expected millions of pounds, but would get next to nothing at this Hope Post Office. Big Sid stayed positioned with his bulk protecting the women as the 3 bandits argued over whose fault it was. Then Fate or Ill Luck beckoned, Mrs Murphy was dying for the toilet, so she demanded they let them all out and then surrender to the Police and 10 years in jail. Shut Up you old bitch was their reply. Big Sid said they should not speak like that. Mrs Murphy fired back what are going to do, shoot the baby?

Yes, we’ll shoot the baby the trio of bandits replied. That was a red flag to Big Sid, nothing would ever ever ever hurt a child. So the raging bull was released. He was shot once but threw one straight out the Post Office window, then he charged the second and was shot a second time as he threw the 2^nd bandit out the shop window. Big Sid looked back at the women. Are you all safe, YES they screamed in fear. Then Big Sid though by now bleeding heavily charged a 3^rd time and got shot a 3^rd time, but still managed to throw the 3^rd bandit out. But that was not enough for Big Sid he staggered out the shattered front window and Body Slammed the pile of bandits. Is everybody safe he asked?

Jake Powers knew he had to save Big Sid’s life, he was the bravest man in the world, he had seen it with his own eyes. The Professor and Jake leapt into action, Big Sid was hauled into a waiting ambulance. Sgt Mullholland took the wheel, both ambulance men were needed to help the Professor and Jake Powers. Sgt Mullholland floored it, the junctions had already been blocked off as a precaution. Sgt Mulholland flew and I mean flew through Old Forge and Singing Anvil, down the Bearwood Rd, down Cape Hill and down the Dudley Road to the hospital.

And what of the three bandits, they were being savaged by hairy Amjit, the long haired alsacian. Nobody in the Police bothered to stop the dog, that’s if they dared. Finally hairy Amjit pissed on each one in turn. Then he picked up their guns one by one and left them at the feet of Roger the Traffic Warden who shook hairy Amjit’s extended paw.

Mrs Muphy knew what she had to do now, it was all her fault anyway, she should not have been so cheeky. But now her Rosary Beads were out in plain view. Michael get me to Saint Pats quick. With that old Michael the taxi driver floored it, he drove even faster that the Police, he had Saint Michael the Arch Angel behind him. At Saint Patricks Mrs Murphy walked to the very front of the church and kneeing against the altar rail she began another Rosary.

Mrs Murphy’s heart was breaking, Big Sid could die and it was all her fault. But she had her Rosary and Big Sid had the world’s greatest gun shot team there all tending to his wounds. So she started in 5^th gear, no time to waste, she rattled through the Rosary. Outside a media scrum had begun. A slow news day had now become a very big news day. And on she prayed. Her prayers were not enough, she needed more Rosaries, then in her pain she had an idea.

She went outside the church next to the cross and asked Sky news could she say something. Sky news put her on live, this was by now a big big story. Can I ask for prayers for Big Sid? YES. Screamed the Sky reporter, and echoed the BBC reporters and ITN and more. So switching to French she asked for Rosaries, then in Spanish and in Italian. In 10 Languages she asked for Rosaries and said the Our Father, Hail Mary and Glory Be in each of those languages. Whenever she was on Pilgrimage she learnt the Rosary in a new language. The reporters were amazed, a little of lady from Old Forge and Singing Anvil could speak all those languages. All she could say was the Rosary, but that was enough. It was the Virgin Mary’s Nuclear Weapon after all.

Now the shooting of a butcher by 3 armed men, who were disarmed by him became a big big story. Hairy Amjit savaging them and collecting the guns and leaving them at the foot of the traffic warden was shown worldwide. Now Mrs Murphy beseeching for players also went worldwide. The daughters of the rosary leapt into action worldwide. A cry from the womb could never be ignored. 24hour prayers were soon in action, thanks to time zones and Mrs Murphy’s language skills. She even knew Hindi.

Now while all this was unfolding a British Aristocrat and a Shanghai Billionaire were gambling, and who else but Smiling Paul was leading the entertainment. When Big Sid broke all over the news Smiling Paul screamed as if stabbed. The Aristocrat was livid too, his ancestors had provided the beef for King Henry’s Sirloin. As for the Shanghai Billionaire, when he heard Mrs Murphy beg for prayers not only in Mandarin but in Shanghai dialect he could not be moved. He was also a secret catholic.

Then as Smiling Paul howled like a wounded dog his wife comforted him. And then, and then the Shanghai Billionaire realised, Smiling Paul was The Lucky One, the man who was prepared to give everything to save the restaurant business of his Chinese friends. The silly looking one with the most beautiful of Chinese wives. Now at that moment the Shanghai billionaire swore Big Sid would be avenged, as did the English aristocrat. To upset one billionaire is a bad idea, but to upset two. And how could he help? Father Dan was in deepest China and Mrs Murphy’s broken heart asked for his return. So the Shanghai billionaire returned her priest, and asked his playboy son with his penthouse at the top of Pearl Tower to come to Old Forge and Singing Anvil too. And because of this coincidence his son would return to his father too. As I’ve said before there is no such thing as coincidences only the work of God. And that work would begin with Fr.Dan hearing the confession of the 3 bandits inside Winson Green Jail, I forgot to say Fr.Dan is Old School, but I won’t talk of bruises in a prison cell, he is a martial arts expert too, but what else do you expect of a Jesuit….

so there's a project for me, to write a bit more of this Tale

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Barron must be so embarrassed

michaelgcasey18/04/2024UncategorizedEdit

Barron turned 18 last month and is due to graduate from Oxbridge Academy

is that Oxford University in ENGLAND?

or Cambridge University in ENGLAND?

NO, a rich people’s middle school, trading off the name

In USA

And dad Donald never bother for his other kids

Graduation is for after University

We’ve all seen Dustin Hoffman

The Graduate

now we have Pre school graduation, and several others through the years

each Bastardising the word Graduate

Me I’m just a SOB

Son of a Blacksmith

and the next Generation are GOB

Grandkids of a Blacksmith

GROW UP DONALD

he may listen to a Russian

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 View more posts

Wednesday 17 April 2024

THIS MADE ME LAUGH 4th July 2019 piece

Thursday 4 July 2019

Michael Casey Hot Stuff

Put Jean Michel Jarre's Rendez Vous Part 4 on and listen to him as I talk

It's a very exciting piece, in my imagination old ladies, abuelitas dance is celebration

their prayers have worked Big Sid the Butcher in Inglaterra is alive after being shot 3 times

defending a mother, a child and an unborn baby and his friend Mrs Murphy not forgetting everybody

else in the Post Office.

So that's the film version of my story dancing around my brain, with JM Jarre's music

I don't really need a tv , I have imagination

I still have to write Tears for a Butcher, I've put fragments online

I'll probably never actually write all of it.#

Not unless a Korean Kpop girl comes and speed types for me as I

sit on a sofa and dictate.

12 chapters, 2 sessions of 2 hours and I could dictate it.

48 hours to write a 600 page book

I would spread it out over 12 weeks

Then I'd marry the Korean girl and have 5 sons, and form a Kpop band and martial arts club

In reality John Henry Newman's ghost is more likely to pay a visit, the Oratory is just up the road

It's too hot to sit and write a new story, or a fragment, so I'm just boring you all with my thoughts

Yes, that's what I do all the time, you are all so cruel

I'm going to change the music now just to confuse you.

Peter Gabriel's Come Talk to Me

I still have my angle painting besides me so that's appropriate

I have the painting 20 years now, it's faded as it's a water colour

My oil paintings have not lost their colour, they are even older

I bought them pre children, but nowadays I could never afford them

A thief would get a tenner for them to sell for drugs, such is today's world

In the local shop, a former WWW fighter was strolling around in his track suit

with his muscles hanging out, tats on display

It's just so hot today everybody is letting everything all hang out

and no I don't mean my fat belly, it's my Winnie the Pooh look

I bought chocolate for my girls, its compulsory

I may streak around the neighborhood later

It's good to let fresh air around all your covered up bits

It prevents smells and cobwebs from forming

It gives the neighbours a treat too, I can see all the net curtains flutter as I race by

Don't you do it where you live?

Such boring areas where you live.

I do live in Nudist Close Birmingham, next door to the fishing tackle shop

Which can be quite dangerous as Dave his pole out and castes about

He did catch me once, I thought I was dead bait

Luckily Lindy Loo from the take away gave me the kiss of life, and took me away

She laid me on her counter top while she finished preparing the boiled rice

The aroma restored me to life and I waved goodbye

A startled customer arrived and Lindy Loo explained

Just Eat Delivery Boy for Nudist Close

that's enough surreal stuff for today

Do tell all your friends about the 2000 stories here and Google Translations over

at https://michaelgcaseyfrombirminghamengland.wordpress.com/

and remind Netflix and Amazon I'm being read in 60 Countries

and up to 7 translations are being read simultaneously of The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker

even 21,000 Polish readers in 3 weeks

And Shoplife my play was accepted for the stage 30 years ago

https://www.amazon.co.uk/l/B00571G0YC

Enough, I'll put some clothes on now, I have go outside and buy and ice cream

Mario, the ice cream seller wouldn't know where to put the flake if I were naked

And this is why I call my writing Cartoons made from Words

Thanks all

Happy 4th of July

The quality of a Nation is judged by its's Charity, everything flows from that

me in 1991 Lourdes

why i'll never be interviewed , a repeat

Thursday 7 October 2021

Why I'll never be Inteviewed

Michael Casey

We’ve all heard and seen interviews, even the pretend ones in newspapers where 20 questions, ok 8, are asked and answered. It’s just an email back and a reply really. I saw one with Frodo recently, and frankly they are a waste of time, a page filler. Frodo will mount a quest now against me. Sorry I just had to take some pain killer, I saw an interview once with the writer of the Singing Detective and he had to pause and swig morphine, so luckily I’m not that bad, though in the middle of it, you just wish lots of things.

So why should I hate interviews, or rather interviewers? Well they don’t listen to start with, if you are talking to me I actually want to be talked to, not processed. Not scanned at a supermarket checkout by a bored girl. Though me being me, I always start a conversation, and yes they do wish I was a tin of beans, though I do fart as much. So, it’s a question of attitude, and the Irish in me wants words, not silence, silence is for lambs. Also describing a page is never as good as reading it. So, I’d rather read a page and not talk about it. A page is a performance, well the way I write it is, the Jackson Pollock school of writing, so how can I possibly talk about it?

The interviewer always wastes time and goes around in circles. If I say it’s a bit like Shakespeare, the interviewer always then says, so you are comparing yourself to Shakespeare, then you go off on a tangent wasting time on that. If the interviewer actually listened he’d learn more, on behalf of the listeners or readers of viewers, instead of justifying his own existence. Two ears and only one tongue, and no I’m not talking about foreplay either. An interviewer is there to listen, it’s not a Political Interview where we all know the Politician is a Liar, a Damn Liar hiding in bed with Statistics, and Statistics was all that mattered, 38/24/38 when his assistant became Political with him. But enough of that, NDAs and all.

The Interviewer goes around in circles, as if his foot was nailed to the floor, or he is painting his nails and ignoring you as you answer, or texting his mum, asking are his shorts done. Then there is the backward announcing to studio and the advert for next week too. Not forgetting the Nods to camera which will be inserted later to pretend he was actually listening to you, as vacuous as the kind pleasantries at the beginning and the end to prove to the People’s Choice Viewers that he is everybody’s best friend. But judging by the laser looks from the crew, they hate him just as much as you.

So why waste time being interviewed. I’ll read aloud a page or two and let the audience judge for themselves. Never let an overweight and over paid idiot, get in the way between you and the words. Let folks, read touch taste every sentence, it should be like a French Kiss between me and my readers. I just hope when I open my eyes, I enjoy who I’ve exchanged spit with.

Thursday 18 April 2024

The Priest and The Playboy a repeat

Monday 1 July 2019

The Priest and The Playboy

The Priest and The Playboy

Shanghai Film Corp do get in touch

and I’ll dictate the story to you.

Chapter Ten Tears for Butcher

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THIS MADE ME LAUGH, 4th July Post 2019

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Barron must be so embarrassed

Barron must be so embarrassed

Published by michaelgcasey

Wednesday 17 April 2024

THIS MADE ME LAUGH 4th July 2019 piece

Thursday 4 July 2019

Michael Casey Hot Stuff

why i'll never be interviewed , a repeat

Thursday 7 October 2021

Why I'll never be Inteviewed

Tinnitus Tales 2020 to 2024 available in a few days on Amazon Kindle

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Thursday 18 April 2024

Monday 1 July 2019

The Priest and The Playboy

Shanghai Film Corp do get in touch

and I’ll dictate the story to you.

Chapter Ten Tears for Butcher

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Published by michaelgcasey

Wednesday 17 April 2024

Thursday 4 July 2019

Michael Casey Hot Stuff

Thursday 7 October 2021

Why I'll never be Inteviewed