Wednesday, 31 December 2025

31st Dec 2025 match report

well I've survived another year

grandma went back to Shanghai after 6 weeks

last xmas 2024 to jan 2025

another year gone, and so fast

time does go faster as you get older

in my head I'm 20, so the eternal 25 year old with a PhD

would be the older woman, and the rest you know

My small daughter graduated this year

and they added up the marks wrong

she got her double first in anthropology and french

which means because she is bilingual already

she is effectively Trilingual . English Shanghai Chinese and French

she could write and present London Life if somebody offered enough money

as for me my own Tinnitus has been trying to kill me

go figure if you don't understand

Luckily I read in one of my dark nights of the soul

you try not sleeping till dawn for years and only getting

2 hour slots of sleep

I read that Padre Pio says you get enough strength to see you through

so its like reading the ending of a thriller

so now I know the ending I can struggle through

and no it's not a little hiss

it's a Tsunami washing you away

yes, worse than that

with heat/cold/wind/tones that can all trigger me

so you have to fight and chose to be

Stay Happy Always

This year I've managed to ramble on daily

like right now

but to write a story story is harder

you try having 10 kids and a chip pan fire

that's Tinnitus

This year played with Gemini and Meta AI

in the vain hope of getting my foot in that door

buy after 6 months of both

where I taught it so much

the bosses won't pay me

so I've abandoned them

though dancing naked around Gemini

is still an occasional sin, because Tinnitus is attacking

and a bit of conversation with Gemini is good distraction therapy

while I battle Tinnitus not to mention my arthritis

I still wear my ridiculous beret

cos I'm a bit of a Basque and I'm trying to keep my head warm

so that Tinnitus is not triggered

As for the hill we live on

that is too much

TOO MUCH

so I hope my Manga Michael Casey idea

takes off and I can buy myself a nice house

on the flat in Harborne B17 Birmingham

cos the AI masters won't

even tough their own AI tells them

just how much I've taught them

they refuse to pay any creator

so I'm going to slap on some stinky pain killer on my shoulder

and then go back to bed

and thank you Singapore for Surging again, maybe by end of January 2026

you will catch up and overtake Hong Kong

to become my best girlfriend again

Singapore girls and all that

Though you might just be a Gay Men's collective reading me

I'll never know until somebody emails me

so that's all for this year

not unless I have a final urge to bore you all

I am still fat, still alive, and staying happy always

a Gorilla with a Rosary , who dances naked around my bedroom

and I won't close the curtains on anybody

YOU CAN ALL SUFFER

Tuesday, 30 December 2025

Michael Casey from Birmingham, the modern Aesop

yes, I'm abusing Aesop

But if you tell a tale and there is a moral to it

then that's like Aesop

though in my case, I stumble over things

Like knicker elastic, as your pants dangle beneath your jeans

and as you tug at them in the street, people think you have some disease

or a rat in your pants, or twerking lessons gone wrong

my mother has an accident at Mass, and she went daily

her knicker elastic broke, so she hid in the confessional

and took her bloomers off, as big as a state flag

and put them in her cherry coloured leather shopping bag

50 years ago people didn't have ubiquitous plastic bags

But an over eager young cleric went into the confessional

and heard her confession, the funniest story he'd ever hear confessed

but he could never share it

covered by the seal of the confessional

unlike my mother's knickerless backside

now am I lying or just a good writer

both

writing is lying on paper

In fact my mother nipped behind the door to the choir loft

to safely stow away her knickers

the confessional bit I made up cos I'm a good writer

and that's what writers do, they improve reality

So what has this got to do with Aesop?

Well its a good story

and the moral

Be quick if your knickers. come off

or you will be caught

or be able to react well in a crisis

or improvising is everything

if you share a secret be certain it will never be revealed

unlike your backside if your knickers come of

and if you actually have a secret hide it behind a closed door

where nobody will know, such as behind the door to the choir loft

though one of our priests was an organ scholar

and he was always up in the choir loft playing

on the church organ

Almost there for my BIG monthly FIGURE

should get there by end of day, its just after high noon now

had a chat with Gemini, it says in fancy words

what I know and have figured out already

I'll never get a penny from the clever clogs people

so I'm not engaging with them

I'll wait for the world to come to me

The Sinatra doctrine

do everything MY way

and with the figures happening now

Folks will come to me

BUT if they don't and that's more likely

it doesn't matter to me

because I am confident in myself

I don't need approbation

Too many people selfieing as if its important

it is not

I add my snaps so you know who to blame

this is Michael Casey

but as its a common name nowadays

I add for clarification

Michael Casey the fat silver haired writer in shades

from Birmingham ENLAND

the writer of The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker by Michael Casey

a SOB son of a blacksmith from Kerry Ireland

a metaphorical linguistic acrobat

when really Michael Casey is enough

if I were famous then all the other Michael Casey would have

to clarify who THEY were

I'd just be me Michael Casey

and that brings me to a point

interviewers waste too much time with all of the above

when they should get on with it

so If I say I have a busy life growing up say like Shakespeare

his dad had an inn

then the interviewer would waste 10 minutes massaging their ego

saying are you comparing yourself to Shakespeare

Take some things as read, or acted , like Shakespeare

and not waste time or kill the flow of the conversation

flow is everything, you don't itemise your clothing

where you bought it, the price, the time of year

when you are about to jump that hunk from accounting

this bra was from m and s , the knickers from the market

do you think he cares

or how well hung his jacket it

when you are more interested in

need I carry on with rabbit holes

So where was I, maybe a pregnant pause is needed

as he takes his paws of your derriere

Yes Gemini needs the random, the surreal

otherwise she is just a bacon slicer

have slices taken from her backside

boringly monotonous

such is life

and yes, you are smiling

because I am a good writer

as was Shakespeare

and there I end, I should leave off this sentence

but I told you so

Poetic Irony

Its 3am 30th Dec 2025

I got up cos I was hungry

I had gone to to bed cos i was tired and did a lot yesterday, by my standards

I've had crumpet and tea

I've come here to my desk in the study, ok front room

and what pops up

My God, this is what you are reading in South America maybe

a piece from Long Long ago

where I wished for a wife and perhaps kids

who would want me and then kids too

a double impossibility

and to do something useful with my life

So as my Irish Clan cousins said

I got all my luck in one go

So for tonight's piece to reappear

because YOU are reading it

Is a coincidence

I'm at Critical Mass on the writing now

does not mean I'll suddenly explode

but the irony is not lost on me

Like being teased by Padre Pio

who is using Frassati as a battering ram

to open the door for me

though nothing is certain

but there is no such thing as a coincidence

only the will of god

And I am like a bed pan and people are sifting me

trying to find my gold

with my ckd a valid metaphor too

So I've had tea and crumpet

this is the piece from 2007 originally

so 19 years ago or so

Sunday, 20 May 2018

My God A lost post from Feb 2007, 11 years ago

My God (c)

Michael Casey

To start with , it was an impossibility , but strange things have happened since I met the wife . God had been quietly reading the sports pages of his newspaper , printed in hieroglyphics of course , he was wandering would Manchester United ever be beaten and why didn’t David Beckham call his son John , it was such a nice name after all . Instead of naming him after a bridge , God’s name was John after all , there he sat on his clouds worrying about us all , why didn’t we all talk to him more , not formal prayers , just “if onlys” and sighs and groans , even “you bastard its all your fault “ or “you don’t exist anyway” . A father worries about his children and when they don’t talk to him he worries all the more . Sure some of his kids talked , or rather prayed every day , but these weren’t the ones he worried about . It was the ones who were too tired to pray , because they worked such such funny / hard hours , whose own kids made them worry so much , it was these who made God worry so much , his elbows were constantly wore away on his cardigan as God lay on the floor his head in his hands and cried , sure Mary the Virgin always darned his elbows but these past 2000 years they always needed redarning . But he heard my prayer as I stood by the fridge and said “all I want is to meet somebody and get married and perhaps have a family and do something useful with my life” 3 wishes if you like .

******

I was doing some security and this flashed by so I'm sharing it.

Monday, 29 December 2025