got our 1st xmas card today
my garden gate is as good as it gets today
had an invite to a party in Hollywood USA, at a world famous gay bar
though I'd never heard of it
So thanks for that but my free bus pass does not include free air travel
I did reply properly to the organisation involved
just in case you are wondering, though I like Harry Styles and Will Young
I only look at Oriental women, having married one
But Love is Love, whatever way you share it
and as I said before my next wife will be Korean, though nobody really would
take me on, if you've followed my words then...
So that's all the news for today, I may write something new tomorrow, but
did I ever tell you that I was positively vetted by a Chinese Ballerina from the Birmingham Royal Ballet in a straight bar up the side of the Hippodrome, in the Gay Quarter, it was the Queens Tavern. And that's how I passed the interview to marry a Shanghai girl, because a Shanghai Ballerina said I was ok. Who had met my future wife in the church by my old grammar school. Saint Germains. And you wonder where the stories come from.
So to finish here's a story which might become part of Tears for a Butcher my sequel to The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker but only If I get a speed typist Korean K Pop girl to come and type it for me. Otherwise the ideas will die with me, whenever the undertaker finally gets me. As it takes a year to write a full length comic novel. I only write short stories nowadays. But I have enough ideas for Tears for a Butcher, but I'd only attempt it if I had a speed typist to type for me so I could sit on the sofa behind me and dictate the story to the speed typist. Then the Korean girl would fall in love with me as she alone heard the story for the first time, and we'd have enough children to form a Kpop band, or a Martial arts school.
Here's Birmingham is Ballet
Birmingham
is Ballet ©
By
Michael
Casey
If
you have been following me on my site you’ll know that the pain
monster attacked at 4am this morning, I had a cuppa and as I’d
managed to waken my daughter I told her about this story. It will
actually form a chapter in Tears for a Butcher the comic sequel to
The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker, assuming I get around to
doing it. I have a vain hope that I could borrow a legal secretary,
then in 12 weeks the sequel would be done. I’ll just sit and
dictate it.
Now
why Ballet? Well as you should also know my wife’s first friend in
Birmingham was a ballerina from the Birmingham Royal Ballet. I was
vetted in a straight bar in the Gay Quarter of Birmingham, by the
ballerina herself. The bar is called The Queens Tavern, you can have
a beer there next time you are in Birmingham at the ballet, it’s
just up the side of the Hippodrome Theatre past the Subway sandwich
place.
Now
if you put your 4 pints of Stella down on the coffee table Boris, and
those three Subway sandwiches, eating alone again, then I’ll begin.
Remember as ever these are all my copyrighted ideas.
Catherine
and Damien were ecstatic they had scored top marks in the Law exam,
in fact along with their friends, Peter and Paul all four had scored
top marks. All because one of the partners suggested they go to visit
Marcus in the old people’s home, the one owned by The Old Forge and
Singing Anvil Coop, but that’s another story which I’ll tell you
later. But you may need another 10 pints of Stella Artois and 6 more
Subway sandwiches Boris, but Annie can clear the table away for you,
or Bettie her twin sister.
Now
where was I, yes Catherine and Damien and the other two had visited
Marcus in the home, after his stroke he needed a little help but
otherwise he still had it. So with Marcus’s help the four of them
scored the highest ever scores in the Birmingham Law exams. Now it is
a tradition that the Law firm that gets the best results gets a
bottle of whisky from the other firms. As you may know if you wander
around Saint Phillips cathedral area, we have a lot of lawyers in
Birmingham. Obviously I worked at the best firm, Pinsent Masons, but
I digress.
So
back to the tale, grace a Marcus as the French might say, the foyer
of Catherine’s company was littered with whisky. Not bottles but
cases of the stuff. As her company the gained the top 4 spots, the
other firms thought it was only fair to send not a bottle but a case
of whisky. I am probably underestimating the figure, but 30 firms
sending 30 cases of whisky, equals 360 bottles of whisky.
The
senior partner arrived and raised half an eyebrow. It’s the legal
results Sir, explained Tony on Security. We got a case instead of a
bottle seeing as we did so well. 360 bottles. Yes Sir 360 bottles,
litre ones too. The senior partner smiled, well if you put 5 cases
upstairs in the boardroom. And the rest Sir? Well if I remember
rightly it’s your Regimental Reunion soon, would it be an
imposition if I asked you to dispose of it. 300 bottles may be a
little too much to ask you to dispose of? I suppose we might find a
good home for it all. Thank you Tony, said the senior partner. The
senior partner stopped for a second, no he hadn’t changed his mind,
oh by the way, ask Maggie our cleaning lady for the hangover cure, it
works wonders, so I am well informed, touching his nose as he skipped
away smiling. It was a happy ship their firm, one big happy family.
So
the night of the Regimental Reunion arrived, Tony had hired a room in
the local bar, in the corner the prize, 25 cases of whisky. Not your
rubbish stuff from Asda or any other supermarket. 40 year old malt
whisky, they were lawyers after all, they had standards to maintain.
In a neighboring bar Catherine and the others were celebrating too.
Catherine and Damien were having a quiet fag, when 3 lads asked could
they have a light, when Catherine held out her lighter one grabbed
her arm, they were going to be robbed. Catherine let out a scream,
one of the lads pulled a knife.
Inside
the Regimental Reunion things were going well, very well in fact,
half the Tonys were tipsy.Ex army tend to work as security in Law
Firms, and they always but always are called Tony,its almost like a
religious cult. Ex army,law firms and the name Tony. If you don’t
believe me ask Tony Cruise,the action film guy, is real name is Tony
by the way. Catherine’s scream was heard, and like a mother running
to save her baby half the room exited. But they were too late, blood
had been spilled and bodies were on the floor.
Somebody
else had heard Catherine’s call, it was a ballet dancer new in
town, like a new gun slinger. It was Anton Bollockoff from Russia. He
had dashed and pranced and pranced and dashed, three times in fact.
He had kicked them high and low, and low and high and high and low
again. The assassins were on the floor bleeding. Are you ok, my dear
said Anton looking into Catherine’s eyes and she looked into his.
It was thunder and lightning, may I introduce myself. Damien
screamed,the Tonys ran faster, as fast as 40 year old malt whisky
allows you. You are THE Aton Bollockoff, the ballet dancer, screamed
Damien, he was so excited. He had been rescued by THE Anton
Bollockoff, nobody would believe him down the gay bar.
The
Tonys arrived and bounced the three criminals against a wall or two.
You are banned from Birmingham yelled a RSM, another Tony took their
photos, do you hear me YOU ARE BANNED FROM BIRMINGHAM, yelled the
RSM. Now get lost, he would have used stronger language, the kind RSM
have qualifications in but there was a lady present. Damien explained
all. Tony from Catherine’s law firm thanked Anton Bollockoff if
ever you need a favour just ask, you saved one of my girls and boys,
I owe you.
Anton
Bollockoff knew when to leap so he leapt. If I could get into a good
Italian restaurant tonight with the beautiful lady that would reward
enough. Catherine swooned, delayed shock, Anton caught her in his
arms. This was love at first sight, and the Tonys were there to see
it, Damien was slightly disappointed, but he believed in love, he has
watched Moulin Rouge 12 times already.
So
Tony took their photos too, he explained henceforth they were on the
Angel list, never wait, straight to Heaven at any place in Birmingham
where there was security. As for the 3 bad guys, they were on the
Hell list, forever barred. Photos were appearing on mobiles all over
Birmingham as he spoke.
So
thanking the Tonys, Damien, Catherine and Anton Bollockoff made their
way across town to the new gay bar and then to the Italian
restaurant. Were they afraid of meeting any nasty people along the
way? No because Anton was with them. Besides every security camera
along the way was following them and as they passed every bar and
eatery a security guy or girl waved and spoke into their radio. It
was as if the Queen was strolling by, with security watching.
Damien
had everything, a bright future in the law beckoned, but he wanted
love. And you cannot buy love. He waved Catherine and Anton away as
he queued outside of the new happening gay bar. He had a slight tear
in his eye, all he wanted was somebody to love. He’d have a great
future but without somebody to share it with. He brushed a tear of
envy away from his eye. At that moment Martin appeared, Martin was
the head of security, he was just checking the lines. Do you want a
tissue he asked as he handed Damien a tissue, then looking at his
phone he said, you are on the Angel list come with me.
Once
inside Damien had a cocoa with Martin, you can’t have alcohol while
you are working after all. Damien offloaded his life to Martin, it
turned out that as well as being a body builder, Martin’s dad was a
lawyer. Only they had argued so Martin ended up having a security
company instead of a law firm. They say that God works in mysterious
ways, but that night they had found each other, 60 years they were
together, but I’ll leave the future to God.
Meanwhile
Anton Bollockoff and Catherine were walking hand in hand through the
backstreets till they arrived at the best Italian Restaurant in
Birmingham. All the time security cameras and doormen charting their
progress. The Regimental Reunion was I full swing, Tony was happy his
eyes were everywhere protecting his children.
At
Don Camillo’s Anton and Catherine instinctively queued, a security
giant and his small blonde pig-tailed girlfriend ushered them in.
Paolo was a ballet nut and when he saw walked through the door he
screamed. The best table in the house given to them, best food and
wine was produced. Catherine was all loved up, here in front of her
was THE Anton Bollockoff from Russia. He was wearing a very tight
shirt and even tighter cream coloured trousers. She was in love in
lust and in love again.
People
would have asked for autographs but one look from the pig-tailed
security girl stopped that. Paolo refused payment, Anton said why not
come to the ballet tomorrow for a full dress rehearsal, and the nice
security people. So it was settled. Anton told Paulo to step outside
then he asked Catherine to lean on a lamppost.
What
happened next cannot really be explained by a ballet baby such as I.
But I will do my best, with Paolo standing on the steps of his
restaurant Anton floated back and forth only to return to stroke
Catherine’s hair, her face and shoulders. Away and return, away and
return. A crowd of hundreds appeared, held back by security. This
went on and on and on, like singing in the rain but without the rain,
this is Birmingham not Manchester after all. Anton stroked her hair,
her face, her shoulders, her behind, her breast, her thighs. Ever so
gently, ever so romantically. Women and men fainted in the crowd,
erotic dancing, ballet dancing while fully clothed. Catherine’s
breathing increased, the crowds breathing increased. Anton Bollockoff
was making love to every woman in the crowd.
Finally
it was just too much, 40 mins of balletic foreplay, Anton stroked a
stroke too far. Catherine wheeled and sprung, she tore his shirt off
in the street, Bollockoff shirt off in the street. This would be The
Sun’s headline in the morning. She jumped on him and began to
devour him on the bench outside the old church that was was now a 70s
disco nightclub. For God’s sake get her to the church on time.
The
security saved the day as ever, the couple, it was close but not
quiet, the couple were grabbed and carried up the street to the
Novotel. They were flung through the doors of the Presidential suite.
But then something wonderful happened as they stood naked in front of
each other. Not the urge, the urge was there, very much there. They
just showered together and each other but then they stopped, naked
but in love. They spent the night talking, they were up all night,
talking. Can it be true, can it be really true? Yes. The exact same
thing was happening for Damien and his new life long love. Both
couples had stopped on the verge of coupling. They wanted to be sure
it was LOVE.
Then
they slept.
In
the morning the Sun screamed out Bollockoff Shirtoff in the Street.
As the couple talked and slept their love had gone viral. Everybody
but everybody in the crowd had filmed it and uploaded it. Ballet
Lovers Website crashed 14 times, such was the pull of the ballet. By
afternoon on the streets of Bangkok you could buy a DVD of Bollockoff
and the Mystery girl. To say Bollockoff was huge was a massive
understatement. But what would transpire after breakfast would dwarf.
Catherine
arrived at her law firm and Tony smiled, she kissed him on the cheek.
Tony on security blushed, he was like a proud dad, as all law firm
security people are. Now a major new client had been visiting and as
Catherine spoke fluent Italian she was ushered to the boardroom just
to be on hand. Now as luck or Fate would have it, the client had been
at Paolo’s restaurant the night before. This could be tricky very
tricky, but he was a Ballet Nut. He did not want to want to talk
about contracts just ballet. Catherine looked helpless and trapped
for a moment, the senior stepped in, not as elegantly as Bollockoff
but just as nice.
If
Catherine doesn’t feel too overwhelmed then I’ll permit it, he
ventured, senior partners love their staff almost as the Tonys on
reception, but with much posher language. Forgive me, I am just a
farmer replied the Italian in clothes worth at least 10,000. He bowed
and kissed her hand. So they talked business with Catherine doing a
bit of translation. As talks had gone well, extremely well, the
Italian could not keep his mind off Bollockoff’s performance.
Catherine decided to do some of her own venturing.
Actually,
there is a full dress rehearsal today and Anton said I should sneak
out over a long lunch break and come and see him perform. The Italian
screamed and dropped his man-bag leaving a tiny tiny scratch on it.
Could we, please, we have finished here, my cousin Marco would be so
jealous if I saw Bollockoff first. The Italian gave his best pleading
eyes to he senior partner. Well if you are sure the business is
closed. The Italian drew out his most expensive yet stylist pen and
signed the 200million deal.
Let’s
go and see Bollockoff he screamed in delight. The senior partner
leaned over his phone and asked Tony on reception to tell the
Italian’s driver to be ready. In the ride down in the lift
Catherine told the Italian how she had met Bollockoff. So when the
lift doors opened Tony was a superhero, putting Bollockoff on the
angel list had been angels’ delight for the Italian. Bollockoff was
at the restaurant as the Italian magnate and he had seen him dance in
the street. The Italian kissed Tony on both cheeks, you should have a
reward, Tony’s eyebrows formed question marks. The senior partner
shrugged his shoulders, the Italian asked sheepishly would his
man-bag be a suitable reward. The tiny scratch on it meant the
Italian would not be seen dead with it. With the senior partner
nodding his assent Tony accepted the gift. It was a PacoMacotaco
man-bag not that Tony knew that till he googled the label inside.
Retail value 4000.
The
car whisked them to the ballet, the lights had gone down but they
were ushered to a box. The music started and the lights came on. As
their eyes adjusted to the light Catherine could see the security
from the restaurant and Paulo from the restaurant in the boxes beside
them. Then as she looked about she realised the Hippodrome home of
the Birmingham Royal Ballet was overflowing. Every security in
Birmingham had come. Invite one, invite all.
Bollockoff
and the Birmingham Royal Ballet were on fire, his energy had
supercharged everybody. The fact that the other newspapers had
followed up on the Sun’s headline really made everybody feel happy.
The show was an entire tour de force or whatever the French say. At
the interval a miracle happened. Everybody got a drink, the Chairman
of the Federation of Security Personnel Birmingham Branch had slapped
down his American Express card and said fill everything and have
every ice-cream in the building ready. It was a military operation,
everybody but everybody was fed and watered in those 20 mins.
Happy
with smudges of ice-cream on their lips which eager girlfriends more
than eager to lick off slowly, the security all sat in eager
anticipation. They were not denied anything. Ballerinas danced and
Ballet dancers pranced. It was like Christmas for a child. Grown men
cried and their girlfriends had to console them, and they’d console
them much more when they got home to bed. Afternoon delights are a
regular feature if you work late nights.
The
Italian sneaked out his iphone and streamed a minute to his cousin in
Milan. The cousin was so lividly jealous. As the curtain fell the
entire audience leapt to their feet. The community of Birmingham
security has lost their Ballet Virginity, and they wanted more,and
when they got home they would have more ballet, but the horizontal
variety. The corps to ballet bowed and the audience screamed.
Bollockoff
stepped forward, I am sorry if my performance was not perfect it’s
my first time on this stage but I promise to improve here in my new
home, Birmingham. I met somebody so special last night and we spent
the entire night talking , just talking. So did I screamed Damien and
Martin in unison. The audience roared their approval. Things could
not get any better. Catherine screamed out, I love you. Italian and
the senior partner could go to hell she was in love. The entire
audience screamed out I love you.
The
corps to ballet bowed, the applause and screaming lasted 10 full
minutes was like a pop concert. Then when the screaming stopped
Catherine screamed again. It’s me, I love you. The spotlight moved
to cover her, he’s seen her in the Sun now he’d spotted her in
the crowd. The audience gasped it was her, the girl dancing or rather
ripping his shirt off from Bollockoff. Anton saw the love of his life
and dived into the crowd. His ballet dancing had lifted them up, now
it was their turn to lift him up. So walking on palms Anton
Bollockoff reached his girl. It was like Romeo and Juliette. Marry me
and have all my babies he said in Russian. What did he say asked the
audience? The Italian who also spoke Russia stood and with tears in
his eyes translated. He said Marry Me and have all my babies.
Versuvius
erupted, Catherine was lowered to Bollockoff’s level and still
standing on the hands of security they kissed. Then hand in hand they
walked over the hands to the stage. The Italian kissed the senior
partner he was so happy. His Milanese cousin would die, absolutely
die. After a few more bows the corps to ballet were about to leave
the stage when Anton hissed, do you trust me? Yes. So the Corps de
ballet left the stage by walking over the hands of the audience.
It
took 90 seconds to empty the theatre they were all trained security
personnel. Then outside the Hippodrome Anton reprised his dance from
the night before, but with the Birmingham Royal Ballet improvising
around him. If my mother were alive she would have thrown a bucket of
water on them. As it was the Fire Brigade had been doing some routine
checks so they decided to sprinkle the ballet. It was an utter
internet sensation. Kirov can Bollockoff was the headline on the Sun
the next day. Two days with 2 ballet headlines in the sun, was the
editor drunk, or just drunk on ballet.
Linking
his arm through the senior partner’s arm the Italian walked back to
the law office, the crowds had gathered, his car could never get
through now. I like you, your firm, your security Tony, I like
everything, like a family, and I adore the ballet. This is the
happiest day of my business life ever. Only when I bought the racing
car company comes a 2nd
closest, to this day. Ballet in Birmingham day, I think I’ll tell
my biographer to write a whole page about it, maybe two.
The
Birmingham Royal Ballet went inside to change, Catherine and Anton
decided to consummate their love in a box of the Hippodrome. Damien
and Martin were ahead of them, in a box on the other side of the
Hippodrome. As they say Ballet is Universal, the Birmingham Royal
Ballet encapsulates it all. And yes I really was vetted by a Chinese
Ballerina from the Birmingham Royal Ballet in the Queens Tavern about
20 years ago. Where do you thing the ideas come from?
