Friday, 19 April 2024

somebody was JUST reading it , ITS A MESSAGE FOR PEACE NOT FAMINE from SIX years ago originally

Thursday 28 September 2023

Thursday 28 September 2023

somebody was reading it , ITS A MESSAGE FOR PEACE NOT FAMINE from SIX years ago originally


Sunday, 26 December 2021

when Santa lost his HO HO HO

Monday, 18 December 2017

When Santa Lost his HO HO HO

When Santa Lost His Ho Ho Ho ©
By
Michael Casey

Christmas is a time of Love and Cheer and too many drinks of beer. For Santa its a time of giving and comes after Thanksgiving, he circles the Earth sprinkling Love and Laughter and Hope or the hereafter. But something was wrong, there was a stink and there was a pong, because Santa had lost his Ho Ho Ho. Santa was Ho Ho Ho less, he couldn’t even say God Bless when he tucked the Elves up in bed. Rudolf was sick with worry and knew he’d have to hurry, for without his Ho Ho Ho the sleigh just would not go.

Rudolf flew to the North Pole to ask the Polar Bears what to do, but they had hardly a clue. The Polar Bears suggested Rudolf asked the Eskimos in Alaska. So Rudolf flew alone to ask the Eskimos in Anchorage what to do, but even they did not have a clue. So Rudolf had an ice lolly with the Huskies, they were always kind and playful, especially Vincent their leader who loved leading, that way he did not have to look at another dog’s behind as they pulled their sleigh.

Vincent said try Lapland, so Rudolf went back to Finland to find Santa’s Ho Ho Ho. Rudolf looked high and low and even places where a reindeer should never go. Rudolf met a BigFoot hidden in the trees who was quietly having a wee. Rudolf followed the yellow snow  and asked politely where he should go to find Santa’s Ho Ho Ho. BigFoot was taken aback, how did you find me? Rudolf explained I have a Red Nose I can find anything, but yellow pee is a give away for a reindeer such as me. BigFoot blushed and scratched his head, it really was time for bed. But before he went to bed this is what he said. My friend is Nessy the Loch Ness Monster, if you ask her then maybe she’ll be able to help you find Santa’s Ho Ho Ho.

Rudolf thanked BigFoot, telling him to eat more peas and that would help disguise his wees in the snow. And with a glow Rudolf was gone, high high in the air, almost on a stairway to heaven, though for Santa it was the opposite, for Santa had lost his Ho Ho Ho. Rudolf flew to Bonnie Scotland, he got lost and stopped by a bonnie wee house, it was Alex Salmond’s. So Rudolf started speaking in Russian and doing Cossack dancing and all manner of prancing. Alex came out with a mug of hot chocolate for Rudolf, he spoke in Russian too, he could go along with any jest, especially when just wearing his best string vest.
Alex was mortified when he heard that Santa had lost his Ho Ho Ho, so he phoned his best friend Nick Robinson the Radio4 morning gossip show host. Nick Robinson dropped the phone such was his shock, Christmas with out Santa and his sleigh and no Ho Ho Ho. Nick shed a tear, then he remembered he had a friend, not just Alex Salmon his besty but Olga Takesometimeoff.

Olga Takesometimeoff was the dinner lady at the BBC, she pushed the tea trolley for 70 years. The bosses always said she should Take some time off, so that became her name, Olga Takesometimeoff. Now she knew everybody, their mums and dads and grandparents too, everybody told her everything. So when a tear stained Nick Robinson came to her trolley she took one look at him and slapped his face hard knocking his glasses off. This is the BBC, WE never cry, we will fight them on the beaches, we will never never surrender. I said that to Churchill, and look what did he do? He used MY words in a speech. With that she explained that she knew the private phone number of the Russian Ambassador in London.

So Rudolf armed with the phone number rung the Russian Ambassador, and asked for his help in finding the Loch Ness Monster. The Ambassador said he’d help as a special favour to Olga Takesometimeoff, and to Alex Salmond now that he worked for RT. So it was arranged that a Russian mini sub would sneak into Loch Ness and find Nessy for Rudolf. The Royal Navy were livid when the American’s told them what was planned.

The American’s listen to everybody’s phones after all. But Olga Takesometimeoff may have a Russian sounding name but really her name was Drake-Nelson, Olga Drake-Nelson. So she did ring up the 1st Sea Lord who was her grandson. So it would be a chance for the Royal Navy to play me and my shadow with the Russians, testing some new kit Q had invented. Yes Q really does exist, he is not just a made up person in James Bond. Santa had given Q a Chemistry set as a child, Rudolf said it was dangerous, and Q burnt his eyebrows off. So Q went to school with painted on eyebrows that his sister had drawn on, just like Michael Casey the fat silver haired writer in shades did.

So the Russian’s found the Loch Ness Monster with the Royal Navy watching their every bubble. Rudolf flew low and landed on the Russian sub which surfaced so Nessy and Rudolf could chat. Meanwhile in London the Russian ambassador met for a quiet drink with the foreign secretary in the Crown. The British were so angry they make the Russians pay for the Stella Artois, they did pay for the nibbles though. Both sides had to perform the pantomime that is Diplomacy. But both men were relieved that Nessy was found, and with the help of God and 2 foreign navies Santa’s Ho Ho Ho could be found.

They had tears in their eyes, but the Russian ambassador gave the foreign secretary a fur hat as an early Christmas present. The foreign secretary gave a copy of The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker by Michael Casey to the Russian. Is this a punishment? Joked the Russian. You should have Mr Casey on RT reading his stories said the foreign secretary poker faced, to be honest he was not a fan of Alex Salmond, Christmas or no Christmas. Putting his new Russian fur hat on his head the British foreign secretary left the Crown pub, he did grab the last of the nibbles though.

Nessy had lived for ages in the Loch so she had seen Santa Ho Ho Hoing through the sky for many a year, a 1000 years at least. What Nessy knew was that it was the Love of the World kept Santa going. But not just the Love but, the need of Love. So in fact what Santa needed was not Love but the opposite. He needed a challenge, Norad tracking him was not enough, the world had grown complacent. Santa needed the world’s biggest challenge to put fire in his brimstone, to make his cheeks glow, to make his chest swell.

In Heaven Mum called Saint Michael to her side, you saved the Russian spaceman after you saved Mrs Murphy. Saint Michael bowed. Would you be prepared to stand in for Santa Claus? I am humbled, but there is only one Santa. Mum smiled, Michael had such humility. But you were at Stalingradyou helped stop the Nazi filth. Saint Michael blushed, he thought nobody knew. I have a request for you Michael, can you be by Santa’s side and step in and save the day if you have to? To serve is to obey.

Santa saddled up the sleigh, Saint Michael was in the back invisible to his eyes. Rudolf said a prayer and the reindeer leapt from the highest mountain of the North Pole. The sleigh dropped like a stone. They would have crashed straight into Nanook of the North’s igloo, but somewhere in the world a child’s lonely disparate prayer went up. I just wish I could see Santa before I die, even if I got no present, not even one grain of rice.   

Now that was the kind of prayer Santa needed to bring back his Ho Ho Ho, the sleigh rose and rose high into the sky. The red rosy cheeks glowed redder than Rudolf’s nose. Saint Michael kissed his sword, he knew he’d be needing it where the were going. Where in the world would a child long for love, for a grain of rice, for the chance to see Santa.

North Korea where love of God had been replaced by the love of war, the love of nuclear weapons. The love of fear, the land of the note book, all led by crooked power, not the power of love, but dictatorship from above. So the reindeer flew without fear, Saint Michael drew his sword, Santa was on a mission, it was Stalingrad all over again. Evil must be defeated.

The reindeer zigged and zagged as missiles flew trying to knock Santa from the sky. Saint Michael batted them away, he diced and spliced the evil North Korean missiles away. Santa Ho Ho Hoed the missiles away, a force field of love and laughter. He had his sack and they would never sack him. This was his job, his future for all eternity, he had Saint Michael by his side. The reindeer could feel the child’s cries, it was coming from the deep. In the deep the metro system. Hidden away in a secret jail next to the hidden nuclear bombs was a child jailed and chained to a wall for having a pretty picture of a Nativity in his pocket.

The reindeer flew straight down the stairwell bullets flying at them from the evils guards. Saint Michael spread his wings, Santa ho ho hoed, Rudolf’s nose was as red as Mercury. And then Saint Michael sang just as he had sung in Stalingrad, Ave Maria.

The sleigh landed on a platform and Saint Michael split the cell door in two with one swipe of his sword. Chained to a wall a child was dying, clutching the colour photo of the Nativity in his hand. Saint Michael broke the chains with his bare hands. Santa cried and his tears fell as grains of rice. The child said thank you as he died in Saint Michael’s arms. Saint Michael wrapped his wing around the child.

I bring Peace and Goodwill to all men said Santa as he remounted his sleigh. And I have a message from Stalingrad to North Korea said Saint Michael. So as Santa flew back into the sky to continue on his Christmas journey, Saint Michael shared the Stalingrad spirit. Every single nuclear weapon in North Korean was hit by his sword, and they all exploded 300 metres underground.

Carry the child’s body to heaven Saint Michael left a white trail behind him. Grains of rice, that Christmas rice fell from the sky onto North Korea. And in the distance above the muffled sounds of nuclear explosions underground, you could hear Santa going Ho Ho Ho, as he and Saint Michael had the last laugh.         




Sunday, 26 December 2021

when Santa lost his HO HO HO

Monday, 18 December 2017

When Santa Lost his HO HO HO

When Santa Lost His Ho Ho Ho ©
By
Michael Casey

Christmas is a time of Love and Cheer and too many drinks of beer. For Santa its a time of giving and comes after Thanksgiving, he circles the Earth sprinkling Love and Laughter and Hope or the hereafter. But something was wrong, there was a stink and there was a pong, because Santa had lost his Ho Ho Ho. Santa was Ho Ho Ho less, he couldn’t even say God Bless when he tucked the Elves up in bed. Rudolf was sick with worry and knew he’d have to hurry, for without his Ho Ho Ho the sleigh just would not go.

Rudolf flew to the North Pole to ask the Polar Bears what to do, but they had hardly a clue. The Polar Bears suggested Rudolf asked the Eskimos in Alaska. So Rudolf flew alone to ask the Eskimos in Anchorage what to do, but even they did not have a clue. So Rudolf had an ice lolly with the Huskies, they were always kind and playful, especially Vincent their leader who loved leading, that way he did not have to look at another dog’s behind as they pulled their sleigh.

Vincent said try Lapland, so Rudolf went back to Finland to find Santa’s Ho Ho Ho. Rudolf looked high and low and even places where a reindeer should never go. Rudolf met a BigFoot hidden in the trees who was quietly having a wee. Rudolf followed the yellow snow  and asked politely where he should go to find Santa’s Ho Ho Ho. BigFoot was taken aback, how did you find me? Rudolf explained I have a Red Nose I can find anything, but yellow pee is a give away for a reindeer such as me. BigFoot blushed and scratched his head, it really was time for bed. But before he went to bed this is what he said. My friend is Nessy the Loch Ness Monster, if you ask her then maybe she’ll be able to help you find Santa’s Ho Ho Ho.

Rudolf thanked BigFoot, telling him to eat more peas and that would help disguise his wees in the snow. And with a glow Rudolf was gone, high high in the air, almost on a stairway to heaven, though for Santa it was the opposite, for Santa had lost his Ho Ho Ho. Rudolf flew to Bonnie Scotland, he got lost and stopped by a bonnie wee house, it was Alex Salmond’s. So Rudolf started speaking in Russian and doing Cossack dancing and all manner of prancing. Alex came out with a mug of hot chocolate for Rudolf, he spoke in Russian too, he could go along with any jest, especially when just wearing his best string vest.
Alex was mortified when he heard that Santa had lost his Ho Ho Ho, so he phoned his best friend Nick Robinson the Radio4 morning gossip show host. Nick Robinson dropped the phone such was his shock, Christmas with out Santa and his sleigh and no Ho Ho Ho. Nick shed a tear, then he remembered he had a friend, not just Alex Salmon his besty but Olga Takesometimeoff.

Olga Takesometimeoff was the dinner lady at the BBC, she pushed the tea trolley for 70 years. The bosses always said she should Take some time off, so that became her name, Olga Takesometimeoff. Now she knew everybody, their mums and dads and grandparents too, everybody told her everything. So when a tear stained Nick Robinson came to her trolley she took one look at him and slapped his face hard knocking his glasses off. This is the BBC, WE never cry, we will fight them on the beaches, we will never never surrender. I said that to Churchill, and look what did he do? He used MY words in a speech. With that she explained that she knew the private phone number of the Russian Ambassador in London.

So Rudolf armed with the phone number rung the Russian Ambassador, and asked for his help in finding the Loch Ness Monster. The Ambassador said he’d help as a special favour to Olga Takesometimeoff, and to Alex Salmond now that he worked for RT. So it was arranged that a Russian mini sub would sneak into Loch Ness and find Nessy for Rudolf. The Royal Navy were livid when the American’s told them what was planned.

The American’s listen to everybody’s phones after all. But Olga Takesometimeoff may have a Russian sounding name but really her name was Drake-Nelson, Olga Drake-Nelson. So she did ring up the 1st Sea Lord who was her grandson. So it would be a chance for the Royal Navy to play me and my shadow with the Russians, testing some new kit Q had invented. Yes Q really does exist, he is not just a made up person in James Bond. Santa had given Q a Chemistry set as a child, Rudolf said it was dangerous, and Q burnt his eyebrows off. So Q went to school with painted on eyebrows that his sister had drawn on, just like Michael Casey the fat silver haired writer in shades did.

So the Russian’s found the Loch Ness Monster with the Royal Navy watching their every bubble. Rudolf flew low and landed on the Russian sub which surfaced so Nessy and Rudolf could chat. Meanwhile in London the Russian ambassador met for a quiet drink with the foreign secretary in the Crown. The British were so angry they make the Russians pay for the Stella Artois, they did pay for the nibbles though. Both sides had to perform the pantomime that is Diplomacy. But both men were relieved that Nessy was found, and with the help of God and 2 foreign navies Santa’s Ho Ho Ho could be found.

They had tears in their eyes, but the Russian ambassador gave the foreign secretary a fur hat as an early Christmas present. The foreign secretary gave a copy of The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker by Michael Casey to the Russian. Is this a punishment? Joked the Russian. You should have Mr Casey on RT reading his stories said the foreign secretary poker faced, to be honest he was not a fan of Alex Salmond, Christmas or no Christmas. Putting his new Russian fur hat on his head the British foreign secretary left the Crown pub, he did grab the last of the nibbles though.

Nessy had lived for ages in the Loch so she had seen Santa Ho Ho Hoing through the sky for many a year, a 1000 years at least. What Nessy knew was that it was the Love of the World kept Santa going. But not just the Love but, the need of Love. So in fact what Santa needed was not Love but the opposite. He needed a challenge, Norad tracking him was not enough, the world had grown complacent. Santa needed the world’s biggest challenge to put fire in his brimstone, to make his cheeks glow, to make his chest swell.

In Heaven Mum called Saint Michael to her side, you saved the Russian spaceman after you saved Mrs Murphy. Saint Michael bowed. Would you be prepared to stand in for Santa Claus? I am humbled, but there is only one Santa. Mum smiled, Michael had such humility. But you were at Stalingradyou helped stop the Nazi filth. Saint Michael blushed, he thought nobody knew. I have a request for you Michael, can you be by Santa’s side and step in and save the day if you have to? To serve is to obey.

Santa saddled up the sleigh, Saint Michael was in the back invisible to his eyes. Rudolf said a prayer and the reindeer leapt from the highest mountain of the North Pole. The sleigh dropped like a stone. They would have crashed straight into Nanook of the North’s igloo, but somewhere in the world a child’s lonely disparate prayer went up. I just wish I could see Santa before I die, even if I got no present, not even one grain of rice.   

Now that was the kind of prayer Santa needed to bring back his Ho Ho Ho, the sleigh rose and rose high into the sky. The red rosy cheeks glowed redder than Rudolf’s nose. Saint Michael kissed his sword, he knew he’d be needing it where the were going. Where in the world would a child long for love, for a grain of rice, for the chance to see Santa.

North Korea where love of God had been replaced by the love of war, the love of nuclear weapons. The love of fear, the land of the note book, all led by crooked power, not the power of love, but dictatorship from above. So the reindeer flew without fear, Saint Michael drew his sword, Santa was on a mission, it was Stalingrad all over again. Evil must be defeated.

The reindeer zigged and zagged as missiles flew trying to knock Santa from the sky. Saint Michael batted them away, he diced and spliced the evil North Korean missiles away. Santa Ho Ho Hoed the missiles away, a force field of love and laughter. He had his sack and they would never sack him. This was his job, his future for all eternity, he had Saint Michael by his side. The reindeer could feel the child’s cries, it was coming from the deep. In the deep the metro system. Hidden away in a secret jail next to the hidden nuclear bombs was a child jailed and chained to a wall for having a pretty picture of a Nativity in his pocket.

The reindeer flew straight down the stairwell bullets flying at them from the evils guards. Saint Michael spread his wings, Santa ho ho hoed, Rudolf’s nose was as red as Mercury. And then Saint Michael sang just as he had sung in Stalingrad, Ave Maria.

The sleigh landed on a platform and Saint Michael split the cell door in two with one swipe of his sword. Chained to a wall a child was dying, clutching the colour photo of the Nativity in his hand. Saint Michael broke the chains with his bare hands. Santa cried and his tears fell as grains of rice. The child said thank you as he died in Saint Michael’s arms. Saint Michael wrapped his wing around the child.

I bring Peace and Goodwill to all men said Santa as he remounted his sleigh. And I have a message from Stalingrad to North Korea said Saint Michael. So as Santa flew back into the sky to continue on his Christmas journey, Saint Michael shared the Stalingrad spirit. Every single nuclear weapon in North Korean was hit by his sword, and they all exploded 300 metres underground.

Carry the child’s body to heaven Saint Michael left a white trail behind him. Grains of rice, that Christmas rice fell from the sky onto North Korea. And in the distance above the muffled sounds of nuclear explosions underground, you could hear Santa going Ho Ho Ho, as he and Saint Michael had the last laugh.         



yes I was told a planned triple heart bypass but 6 months later 4 grafts. plus photos

yes I was told a planned triple heart bypass but 6 months later  I was told I had 4 grafts 2015

so I'm not exaggerating

today 2024 I'm told dialysis is inevitable

BUT

let's see if my Rosary can. work some magic

Nothing is Impossible to God


unkept look



happy unkept look


Russian look


Soft Spanish leather look, size 52inch I'll sell it

got it in Barcelona before marriage and Poverty 

Feb 1999 I think

 and I'll give money to my student daughters

any offers start the bidding

perfect for your Fat Daddy

you get the jacket not me




as good as I get maybe, shaved above with Harry's razor, is that why he is so angry always


my Irish Arran look, hello to Kerry too





my jacket for sale another photo

my Sancho Panza jacket





which one is Benny Hill, can you tell the difference?


big daughter


our private cleaner the one above



the old house where I started to write in 1987 and the totoro name plate in 2015, now we live elsewhere
and if you lot started to buy books I'd get a bigger house, and one each for my daughers, castles in the air but Pigs don't fly







me and my smaller daughter



https://www.rightmove.co.uk/properties/146575322#/media?id=media0&ref=photoCollage&channel=RES_NEW

If I won the lottery I'd buy all 3 of these brand new houses

one for the family, and one each for my daughters

Then they could stop by for a cup of tea often

BUT seriously we've had so many Graces this past week

after much much sadness and darkness, which I won't share with you

For I do believe in God, and thankfully HE puts up with me

because I know his Mother,  Mary



4770 that's. how much rubbish I've written. THE TROUBLE WITH COMEDY TODAY


Sunday 20 January 2019

The trouble with comedy today, jan 2019



The Trouble with Comedy Today, Jan 2019 ©
By
Michael Casey

They burst out laughing and walked away happy, Robin on Reception leant over and asked what did he say, what did he say. They repeated the joke, He half laughed, the thing with Comedy is the Timing. Or you just had to be there. Yes I’m talking about myself in my Hotel days.

Imagine I met one on one 100,000 people over the 3 years so I had 12 hours every working day to Practice, or repeat myself, or do my “act” as Aimee “unkindly” said. If you meet 100,000 people and say something witty then you will get the Timing right, or you may as well shoot yourself, or hide in the Concierge Room, as one nameless person did for 3 years.

But enough of the Donald Trumping, which could be rhythming   slang for something else. It depends which way your mind works and your Political affiliations as to how you react to that as well. It depends do you swing to the Left or swing to the Right, or do you go straight down the middle, you may not even swing at all. It depends on the cut of your jib, whatever that means. Wasn’t Jib Bush the governor or Florida?

American Politics is so confusing, and so very angry. I think after the next election they should finally get rid of the Electoral College. 4 years at University learning how to stuff envelopes and knock on doors, or is that something to do with Walmart bags with 10000dollars or so in. Its all so very American.

I was going to talk about Comedy, wasn’t he Jib Bush’s brother’s Vice President? Its so very hard to keep up to date with what’s going on over there, 5 hours time difference, or 8 to the funny people on the West Coast makes it difficult. At least an Egg on Instagram beat the Kardasians, the yolk was on them. My daughter said there was music too, so was a British Comedian, Ben Elton behind it perhaps, or one of my neighbours up the road, Frank Skinner?

British Comedy is the Best after all. All our best Comedians were at Oxford and Cambridge, Mr Bean was at Queens Oxford, as was my brother. John Cleese from Monty Phython was at Downing Cambridge as was another of my brothers. What does that make me? Jealous? No I’ve had a strange life, but it does make me appreciate Laughter more, believe me I am a Comedy (Humour) Writer after all.

Other Comedians in UK also went to Oxford and Cambridge, those jokers we call the Government, go google all of them. I actually grew up just 4 houses away from Theresa May’s friend from University, though he won’t remember me, apart from throwing snowballs at him after Midnight Mass at Christmas maybe in 1970.

So what made me talk about this today? Well I was going through the newspapers and up popped a piece about Comedy in Today’s world, it’s Jan 2019 now. It was in the Guardian, I clicked the MSN link and started to trawl though it. But it was too serious and a little boring for my tastes. A piece I read in the Observer on my phone about Trump and Nancy a serious Political piece was very good, though maybe Wishful Thinking in parts. As for the piece in the Guardian I gave up on, I won’t waste my Time on stuff that won’t feed my Spirit or Intellect, I don’t expect to be alive in 10 years time, so I’m being selfish with my reading time.

Now in the piece it was on about Political Correctness and how in the writer’s opinion People had to move with the times. I’m condensing what he said, go to today’s Guardian and read it in full for yourselves, I’m sure you’ve all got 50 years left in you.

Comedy is of it’s Time as is History. Windsor Davies from “It Ain’t half hot Mum” a hit comedy from 40 years ago he just died and the Memorial tv pieces were so PC it was saddening, you should realise everything is of its time as is HISTORY itself, so why remove statues etc, that is PC gone mad. The Pakistani girl, Malala Yousafzai who now lives in Birmingham who was shot in the head, well she was interviewed recently and what’s one of her favourite tv shows,
“Mind you Language” which was a comedy about a multicultural language class. She must have seen it on UTube as it’s from the 1970s I think. Now will she be condemned for watching such a tv show? I should add I taught in an Islamic school for a year, so I learnt a lot while I was there.

Why do people say “I shouldn’t laugh but” or “It’s not exactly correct but” If something is funny then it’s funny. Don’t analyse the joke. Humour is by it’s nature about differences, and if we cannot laugh at our differences then we cannot laugh at anything. We laugh at the “tragedy”of others. We see Mr Bean avoid walking into a lamppost, but then he falls down into a pub’s cellar. We all laugh, then he comes out holding a pint of Guinness, he sips it and has froth on his lips, but then the barman chases him. So he hands the pint to a little old lady who downs it in one and hands him the empty glass, then she points to show the barman which way the thief Mr Bean went.

Cartoons are much more violent as was early Charlie Chaplin, so do we condemn or ban Tom and Gerry? You can pick your own heroes and villains in Comedy. What can you laugh at and what can you not?
Is Religion totally off limits? Do you have to be a Priest or Rabbi before you are permitted to make Religious jokes, can only Teachers control their Pupils, or should they have a sight test? And on it goes.

What about me? Michael Casey the fat silver haired writer in shades from Birmingham, the one in England. Can you call me Micky all the time, of say hey FATSO, you’re an old git with white hair, you’re kidding yourself saying its silver. You’re a poser in those shades, don’t you mean sun glasses you’re not in America, they wouldn’t let you in, you probably have rabies. You’re just a flasher showing your heart bypass scars online. Or do you talk so much BS you’re trying to get the sympathy vote by exposing your chest. And you should buy shares in a toilet paper factory, you and your Ckd.

Now I’ve bored you with a few examples about myself. So how far should you push the humour. Are we allowed to have Springtime for Hitler humour or is it not allowed because it’s in bad taste? I agree with Mel Brooks, tyrants must be mocked. So having a camp gay Hitler is perfect revenge for what he did to the Jews and everybody else. For younger readers go watch The Producers by Mel Brooks its online and was on tv again recently.

Humour is a weapon, as are words, and the Pen is Mightier than the Sword, You’re just a clapped out, worn out has been as I was once told. I’ve gone on to write 17 books over 1,420,000 Words, I also have 2 daughters who will amaze the world in the Future, even though realistically I’ll be dead and buried before they achieve their full potential.

So let’s all of us keep our sense of humour, stop looking for insults where none exist, let’s keep on laughing at ourselves. It’s through laughter we bond and survive the hard times. Nora no Knickers as a child did not become a Prostitute, she swore one day she’d have loads. So she founded a Lingerie company, and became a multimillionaire. Simon the Stutterer was picked on relentlessly, but Nora took him under her wing and they recited from the Newspaper every night. He became a newsreader with excellent diction, he also married Nora no Knickers.

We all can remember jokes, sometimes cruel jokes, but it’s all part of life. Hopefully we all meet our own Nora no Knickers, or a brother or sister, real or acquired who will laugh with us, and defend us if the jokes are too strong. Sticks and Stones can break your bones, but Names can Never Hurt you. Can we just get everything back in proportion otherwise we just become bland like a brick wall.

There was a man walking down the street, ok I’ll change it, you think I’m biased. So there was this woman walking down the street, is that more gender balanced? She was a Lesbian, she wasn’t but a woman walking down the street is not as funny as a man walking down the street. Men always play with their zips, and rearrange their crotch, I blame Michael Jackson myself. Ok so the woman was black, is that ok, as I want to be more inclusive.

Just from a sentence how many are offended? I’m trying to explain being offended, and if I use an example immediately people are offended. So, I cannot mention women as it’s sexist. I can’t say Gay or Lesbian because it’s homophobic. I cannot say black because that’s racist. I cannot mention Michael Jackson because he’ an icon, a dead icon, he would be about my age now. Perhaps we should just joke about robots, they are laughing at us, as they will have all the jobs, and we’ll all be unemployed.

I’m going to talk to my Undertaker now to Pre-Book my Funeral, now am I tempting Fate? Or am I forward thinking, or is it all morbid? Again you are all divided about this hypothetical idea, there is only one certain future for all of us, Death. So can we all just get off our high horses and LAUGH. The test of any Society is Laughter. I’m sure in North Korea they laugh all the time, even their tvs are handicapped so they cannot watch Korean tv from the South.
So everybody everywhere should ask themselves how much laughter am I getting? If your Snowflake attitudes, and your Political Correctness and your straightjacket of Religious beliefs, and any other Rules prevents you from Laughing then you will die a virgin Puritan. Life is for joining in, it is for a merging of ideas, you don’t have to believe in anything else, nobody is forcing you to abandon your Life. Don’t just be a security camera, watching, and observing but not joining in, a lump of metal on the wall.

Laugh and make love with laughter, and when the loving ends you still have the memories of laughter. Or would you just want to be on the sidelines of life, because Laughter is against your Principles.

&&&&&
yes a repeat because it's Eternal like my writing, Taylor you Tortured Poet, finish dusting
my bookcase, not a metaphor

she is so good

my Russian look

Portuguese Translations

Humour Writing by the fat silver haired writer in shades from Birmingham England read in 167 countries so far https://www.amazon.co.uk/Micha...