Monday 6 July 2020

Memories are Made of This


Memories are Made of This ©
By
Michael Casey

Well I got up early as I could not sleep any more, then I checked you all out after breakfast and morning meds, the stuff that keeps my heart in shape. I reached 300 + beats after my bypass, so I have to take a med so it stays tictocking in a good beat. Sounds like a thing on TikTok, maybe I should try tictoc to annoy you all, to herd more far flung, far fetched readers to read my rubbish. Or just download the translations. I bet you have all fallen to your knees, Please God make him stay off Tik Tok.

I then went back to bed for a final 2 hour grab at sleep, I sleep in 2 hour slots, then I awake like Dracula, that’s after my slave Tinnitus has done his worst. So now freshly showered and shaved plus the 3rd S, I have arisen to face the day and write more words. I spotted another piece, which is a jigsaw piece that may enter Tears for a Butcher if ever I write the sequel. As I said recently I need a speed typist to type it for me, which I lie on the sofa behind my desk with this PC on. And yes, I am never PC, people are people, just be nice and they will be nice back to you. The great Jim Espie whom I used to work with was a natural with a twinkle in his eyes, just be nice and people love you, not forgetting Roger too, and the crew at CPNEC 2002 to 2005.

Those were my best memories, my hardest work memories, but best fun memories. My neck measurement went up 1 inch or 2.5cm if you are handicapped by Metric, and my chest by 2 full inches, such was the manual work and talking, talking, talking. My belly grew too, so good was the food.
And why talk of such things today? Well, I spotted what you my bemused readers were reading and what I read made me cry because of the memories and meanings attached to the piece. It reminded me of my father, and this week would have been my parents 71st Wedding Anniversary. Dad slept with his brother on his Wedding night, and my mum with her sister Hanna. As uncle Johnny had come up from Cricklewood London, Ash Grove if I remember it.

There are memories galore and I dole them out like ice cream, adding a flake or sparkles or a squirt of red sticky juice. Hot dogs are nice too, but American  mustard is a joke, mustard should make you sweat and pant, try French or British mustard, then your hot dogs will really be hot. Talking of which, “hot dogs” was the swear on the moon, as I imagine the guys were told not to make History by swearing on the moon. What really amuses me is when the first lady to reach the moon, an American lady that is, will have such a shock. As a Chinese noodle store will already be there with an Indian curry house, it will be a joint venture between India and China, and of course they’ll be two girls, so beautiful the Amercan lady will cry. Space is for all Mankind after all.

I was telling the Taiwan girl over the internet that in chapter 10 of The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker smiling Paul the bookie wins a load of money, but gives it all away to help save the restaurant business of his Chinese friends. And the finale really is in Search of an Indian Princess, the last 3 chapters of the book. Maybe that’s why its popular the world over in whatever language people read it. So I can remember crying when I originally finished it on 29th Feb 1998

As I talk to you I’m listening to Eric Clapton, I just wish Justin Timberlake would take him into the garden and teach him a few dance moves, all the strumming and humming. Can somebody give him a Bert Weedon, and no that’s not a metaphor, but being weed on does not sound like much fun, no wonder Eric is strumming. Justin get off the fence, you’re not a cat, or even a cool cat, just paint the fence with creosote. Oh no Eric is on a riff again, Tom, Tom Sawyer give him a paint brush too, or just tip that bucket over him. Can’t you see I’m writing, news of my death have been greatly exaggerated. Oh, you just wish I was dead, then your trendy Esol English teacher wouldn’t force you to read such rubbish.

I remember reading Huckleberry Finn it was a thick book, it was 1967 maybe, see if I had to “suffer” then so can you. Eric has just finished now, and he’s screaming like a cat now, even covered in creosote, so I think I’ll finish for today, I have to go Huckle my Berries, with the Finns in the sauna. So while I leave you there I’ll take my clothes off ready for the sauna, I’ll just stroll naked down the road, I hate having to change after all. Wearing only shades and a smile, with Eric singing “I feel disgusted, and how long” I’ll be off. Eric you can carry on while I Carry On Regardless.








Far Fetched Readers again

on Wordpress from Mexico to Korea

here on Blogger Peru to Russia, Poland, Germany, India

just some of my readers in past 24 hours or so

were you trying to avoid Trump  and his parades?

If folks in USA don't get off the couch

then Trump will win again

then the anarchy will really hit the fan

I saw on tv a older women talking to a SKY news reporter

The woman was so angry and raging

why

Because she does not like face masks

why

because they are a political expression

TO THE REST OF THE WORLD THIS IS PLAIN MAD

just as Trump, the T word is

A mask will help save your life

Freedom to Jwalk into disease is a freedom

But who wants to die or be sick?

So wear a MASK EVERYBODY OR KEEP YOUR DISTANCE

listen to science not fake presidents

all our mothers taught us Coughs and Sneezes spread diseases

Common Sense will save your life and your friends and families' lives

Or you could just party like an Animal

But enough of Trump for now

Back here in sunny Birmingam I am sat here with a cup of tea

2 coffees then a cup of tea for variety

My own pains seem to have lifted

But 7 years of random pain is no fun

But the sun shining is a free gift from God

Cure for Tinnitus is my most wanted desire

Daytime is acceptable, but at night

The hissing is like a serpent, without temptation nor apples

Now before I forget, The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker

is being read by tens of thousands of you via my sites

nobody buys a copy in my original English on Amazon

But one day I'll finally get recognition and reward

ok, I won't I'll probably did first

However why does it work worldwide

Its about family, friends, community and loads of LAUGHS

it does start slowly as I introduced the Cast

But so long as you are not a quick fix American refusing to wear a mask

then you will enjoy it, even your priest too, tell him chapter 7 is for priests

And For Your Penance

maybe Don Camillo influenced me as I wrote it

read Don Camillo too

and that's your lot for now, I may write a new piece later

But there are 1000s of pieces to read on my 3 Blogger sites

here's something from 20 years ago



Nov99 Michael G Casey email michaelgcasey@hotmail.com


                     Literary Criticism  (c)


                           By

                     
                      Michael  Casey


       I always thought I was a good writer, people told me so, and it
was what I wanted to hear ,  so naturally I believed it .  That was until
Jee  Ji  came  to live with me .  She told me she'd read my stuff ,  my
"rubbish" and give an opinion , her uncles were influential , so perhaps ,
or just maybe they could help me get published or even produced . Then the
world would be my oyster , however I had forgotten one fundamental thing .
Jee Ji was Chinese, her English still had a long way to go , and besides
which  would  British humour travel as far as China ,  or as  far  as  her
Chinese brain?

       So naturally I gave her my funniest story to read first, the true
yet surreally funny Czech story ,  and what did she say ? "Its boring", if
she had been a man or one of the lads from work I'd have punched her ,  or
at  the very least called her an "ignorant bastard".  But because I loved
her , I took the criticism like a man and smiled , and that was a revelation
in itself , why ? Because I had found somebody whom I respected enough not
to curse at when the hated my work ,  my stuff ,  my "rubbish" . Love is a
strange  thing ,  making you smile ,  instead of curse .  So it at least
proved  how  much I loved her ,  I had told her that my  stories  were  my
children  ,  the product of my love ,  the only thing with meaning  in  my
life ,  with value in my life .  Until true love came along in the form of
Jee Ji herself
.  So now we could discuss things, with love in our eyes,
and my writing was , what it really was , just words on paper. Perhaps
someday my simple words would really have great value , but now I realized
what they were - words ,  just words , perhaps never to have any meaning ,
except to me alone .  In the Bible it begins with "In the beginning there
was The Word" , and after that we have the Bible itself , and the rest is
History.  So perhaps my humble words would have a beginning, and perhaps
my  future words would have history too ,  obviously not as great  as  The
Bible  ,  but I still dream that someday my words will have an  effect  on
people . I don't want to move mountains, just make people laugh, that's
enough for me .  However humour is a funny thing, I cannot tell a joke to
save  my  life but somehow when I put words on paper I  can  make  people
smile  and  even laugh .  When I'm really relaxed and down the pub I can
actually make people cry with laughter , and I don't know why , the tears
of laughter just flow ,  so perhaps when I write I should just relax  and
pretend  I'm down the pub and most of all ,  just don't try to be funny  ,
just let the laughter flow naturally .

       So much for the theory, the practice is that you write for  years
and nobody pays a blind bit of notice  , then you write one thing and hey
presto you are recognized as a "writer" ,  well in your office at any rate
.  So you are suddenly "world famous" to a group of friends, if you are
lucky  30 friends ,  that's just how "world famous" I became .  Offer any
other  pieces  of  your "literature" and you are treated like  a  leper  ,
"Unclean ,  Unclean" people almost say .  I did get one real fan, and I
fell  in love with her ,  only she didn't fall in love with me  ,  as  she
repeatedly said .  However I did make a friend for life ,  which is better
than nothing . And I'm use to nothing, so that can't be bad .

        Jee Ji  revealed her uncle's connections  ,  after  I'd  already
guessed , I was happy but not overwhelmed . I had a play accepted 12 years
ago  ,  only it did not happen ,  so I've given up believing I'd  ever  be
acknowledged  as a writer long ago .  If a miracle happens and her family
decides to help me then that's wonderful ,  but I have her love and love is
the greatest gift of all , so I'm more than happy . World recognition as a
writer  will never happen ,  not unless my mother who makes tea in  Heaven
pulls lots of strings for me , having said that she sent Jee Ji so perhaps
helping me find my true vocation is next on my mother's list . "Blessed is
he who expects nothing" , so perhaps before I die I will be blessed , and
become a writer .

        So that's how Jee Ji has become my literary critic, if I get 100
out of 100 she will pass on my work to her uncle , but she is the filter .
This makes me smile and is the ultimate irony,  because her  English  is
very good ,  though her verbalizing is not as good as what's in her head ,
and  she still has to look words up in her electronic dictionary  .  So I
have a Chinese literary critic , who is still learning English !

        So I gave her another piece to read, it was "Its all in the Stars"
a  comedy  based  on  me and Louise .  This made her laugh and smile,
occasionally  Jee  Ji would look up and ask "What Mean?" and spell  out  a
word and I'd explain and make her look it up in the dictionary . So I'd be
smiling as I watched her read my story , and then I'd smile even more when
she  stopped to ask for explanations of English words .  God really DOES
have  the last laugh ,  first I have to write something funny ,  which  is
hard in itself, then I have to write in such a way as to please a Chinese
girl  .  Now that is the future which I have to bear in mind.  As for my
back  catalogue ,  I just have to hope that with "The help of God and  Two
Policemen  "  as my mum always used to say my old "stuff" will  pass  the
Chinese filter and get 100 out of 100,and then a Chinese uncle in Miami
or  a Chinese uncle in Shanghai will help this Birmingham England boy  get
his foot in the door as a writer .

         So I watch from my rocking chair as she reads, as I watch for
smiles I admire her beauty ,  though I call her an "ugly mug" as a joke ,
and as a way of making her realize that beauty is only skin deep .  And we
both  realize too its because we see each others heart that's why  we  are
sitting  opposite each other ,  that's why I have a Chinese critic of  my
British humour, and yes God really DOES have a truly great  sense  of
humour  .  If I can do the impossible then I will perhaps finally get my
chance  to be a writer .  Though I must immediately say that my mum does
make the tea in Heaven so I'm sure she's bribing Saint Jude ,  the  patron 
saint of the impossible ,  "Look , Saint Jude if you want the best tea for
all  eternity ,  just help Michael my youngest son ,  let him make  people
laugh for 70 years with his writing .  But only if he can make his Chinese
girl  give  him 100 out of 100 .  And only if its the “Will of God." .So
basically  that's the situation . Simple really, I just sit in my rocking
chair and watch Jee Ji smile and every now and then she says "What Mean?"
and I explain and she checks it out in her electronic dictionary , then she
laughs more when she reads the Chinese translation .  I'm sure I can hear
God laughing in the background,  but I REALLY do believe mum sent Jee  Ji
to  me ,  so I hope its just a matter of time before I get my foot in  the
door and I get a chance to be a writer . Having said that perhaps I should
add that Time is God's greatest joke , didn't Padre Pio once say something
like "The prayers I will say tomorrow will have helped you yesterday ."

        To finish ,  perhaps I should just teach Jee Ji more English and
then Hey Presto she'll see what a wonderful writer I am . I'm laughing now
at my own stupidity , its more likely she'll think even more how useless I
am as a writer , however God works in mysterious ways and another thing my
mother used to say was "Far Fetched , Like S*** from China." Why? Because
our  meeting and falling ion love is so unbelievable and so  far  fetched
just  like "S*** from China" ***,  so the ultimate joke is that it  takes  a
real Chinese miracle for me to find a girl AND get published .
Or can I hear God Laughing?


******Coals to Newcastle might be another comparison, this was my mother's metaphor


Sunday 5 July 2020

Kim Kardasian First Lady?

Kim Kardasian First Lady?

I checked the date it was 4th July yesterday

Not April Fools Day

So Kayne wants to be President

Or good marketing for his latest stuff

Trump wants to build a new Garden of Eden

Kayne would not be killing Able

He'd be killing Joe, Joe Biden

By splitting the Vote

FOLKS EVERYWHERE SHOULD BE MASKING UP

and not following Trump over the cliff to misery

So Kayne if you want to help the American People

Launch a line of masks

And have a song and dance about that

Or just kill Democracy itself

and allow Trump to shoot anybody on 5th Avenue

and get away with it

By being HUMBLE Kayne and supporting Joe Biden

only then can Trump's corruption begin to be washed away

The humble will be exalted

and somebody you know so well washed the feet of others

So Kayne be humble enough to wash feet

Stay out of the race for President

Or do you really want to split the Vote and get Trump again?

Service means just that, by being last you make

everybody else first

Just as my mother did, just as my father did

Mask up for Glory and help Biden win,

and lead America to a new Eden for everybody

Don't help Trump because your ego gets in the way

Tomorrow is another day, and when God made Time

he made plenty of it, as my dad used to say

So bide your time for Biden, and in the Future

you could be President, just as Reagan was

But right now save all our tomorrows or

tomorrow may never come

Because Trump got in and turned everything

into his own image even more

Just show him the door.




Saturday 4 July 2020

Lec, Boris and Gregorgi Rescue the Old People's Home

Lech, Boris and Gregorgi Rescue the Old People’s Home

Lech, Boris and Gregorgi Rescue the Old People’s Home ©
By
Michael Casey
Well as we are all stuck in the snow I’ve decided to share this story, you can believe it or not, its up to you. It’s 1st March 2018, Putin is boasting about his toys of war, as are other leaders. Can we just put these things away and advance science for all Mankind instead? The best of all our people is in its Spirit. So let me tell Putin and Kim and Trump a story about real Spirit. This is the story of how Lech, Boris and Gregorgi rescued 100 old people trapped in a blizzard with medicine and food running out.
Now Popaloffoff lies somewhere in the East where Poland, Ukraine and Russia make love on the map. They make love in bed too but I’m just trying to give you an estimation of where it is. Up in the mountains along a winding road and perched like an eagle looking down on a fast flowing river is an old monastery that is also an old people’s home for locals.  So priests and shepherds live there, the priest paint icons and the shepherds produce the finest vodka anywhere in the world, if you live in that climate you need a good drink.
This Winter 2017/2018 has been bad, today 1st March 2018 the weather is savage. Lech and Boris and Gregorgi got a call on the CB radio, Shepherd down, we are running out of supplies especially medicine. We may have to burn the icons to keep warm. Now to anybody in the East an icon is a Holy Holy thing, its worth more than gold, worth more than beating USA at the ice hockey. I’m  whispering this now but an icon is worth more than Vodka.
So when the message came on the CB radio Lech, Boris and Gregorgi had to do something. The Blizzard could go to Hell, in fact it could kiss Gregorgi’s fat ass, and his ass was fat, very fat indeed. They mounted their snowploughs and drove to base. Grit was poured to over-brimming on all three trucks, and a trailer was attached to each. Not forgetting a case of vodka in each cabin. With a blessing from an atheist they departed.
Only a fool, a madman, and a believer would even attempt it in this weather, but that would describe the Trio. In Popaloffoff they got the message that help was on its way, then the CB died. So they huddled together and prayed. A few of the icons were near the fire for when the firewood ended. Now as I said before Saint Michael considers Lech, Boris and Gregorgi to be his friends. As for the icons they have special powers too, but more of that later.
Driving in a blizzard is no fun, the Trio laughed and joked and cursed at each other over the radio. They were on a mission, a mission from God. They were not Blues Brothers they were Slavic cousins, and they were better drivers. Slip sliding away they went, round and round a garden like a teddy bear one step two step and a tickle under there. Good job there was vodka on the seat beside them. It was barely above freezing inside the cab, though they had their furs to keep them warm. That bear had nearly killed them 10 years ago, but they had sworn an oath to high Heaven that if they did not die they would repay the favour. So now wrapped in that bear’s clothes it was time to repay that debt. Popaloffoff was calling them, I saved your 3 lives, now you must save the least of my brethren.
It was logical, well logical to a fool, a madman and a believer, they were each and all of those things. They had visited Popaloffoff when they were kids and it had made a big big impression, so now, they had to do it, they just had to answer the call. Slip sliding away, the trailers sliding like a puppet on a string.
Disaster almost struck. Lech was leading his plough veered to the left, then magically it shot to the right along the mountain road. Boris and Gregorgi swore they saw an angle appear and push his truck back on the road. Was it the vodka, it was hard to tell through all the snow. It was Saint Michael himself, he had skin in this game, as did all the angels and saint on the icons.
After that save, like a diving ice hockey player in the Olympic final, Saint Michael was joined by a multitude of angels. If their icons were burned it did not matter, saving the lives of a Trio such as Lech, Boris and Gregorgi did matter.
Now the road to Poploffoff is very dangerous and you an slip off and never be seen again, or until Spring comes and the snow melts. The wind howled and the snow fell. The vodka was drunk as the Trio drunk through the blizzard. How they stayed on the road nobody would ever know, but if you were an angel looking down you could see snow angels in the snow to the left and to the right as angels pushed the truck to keep it on the road. Hundreds of snow angels made in the snow by real angels. But you don’t believe me, do you? You think I’m drinking vodka?
The fire was burning low so the priest with tears in his eyes put an icon on the fire. Then he closed his eyes, he did not want to see his sin. 100 people and more huddled around a fire with their eyes closed, begging the angles and saints to forgive them for their sin. The angles and saints were crying, not for their icons but because they were humbled to see such Faith.
Lech, Boris and Gregorgi drove on the perilous road, slip, sliding away. They cursed each other more, to encourage each other more. Then a tragedy, the vodka was finished. They fell silent, not long to go now, they had to concentrate more, the road was at its most dangerous now. Saint Michael called for reinforcements, a wall of angels their wings outstretched with swords drawn lined the road. Nothing would prevent them from getting to Popaloffoff now, only the Devil himself had come to see what was happening, he had smelt the scent of burning icons.
While Saint Michael hacked at the Devil with his sword Lech’s truck went over the cliff. It was hanging half on and half off the road. Boris and Gregorgi slammed on the brakes on their trucks. He would be dead in seconds. Only then 3 enormous bears appears and pulled the trailer and truck back on the road. The bears disappeared to be replaced by a golden angel, a beautiful golden angel.
Nobody said anything they drove in silence up the mountain road to Popaloffoff. They entered the courtyard and ran to refectory where everybody had been gathered. Lech, Boris and Gregorgi handed out medicine and food and unpacked the supplies. A madman, a fool and a believer had saved the day.
The Trio looked about and could see the icons that had been put on the fire. But when they took them out they noticed something, they wiped the soot away and the icons were perfect, intact. Babushka asked the trio to follow her to where she had been painting a new icon. She turned the icon around, and there Lech, Boris and Gregorgi could see a golden angle with 3 bears on it.
I need a drink they said in unison. So they had a drink, a real good drink. In fact they were given the recipe for Popaloffoff vodka, so if you wonder why Lech, Bori and Gregorgi are in Warley Woods or any woods for that matter its is because they are attending to their still. Oh, and before I forget, I have an angel on my wall as I talk to you all. And as for golden angel icon with 3 bears on, that is on the wall in Putin’s private office, as well as a few bottles of Popaloffoff vodka. Pope Francis has been invited to Russia you know, maybe Putin will give him a photocopy of the icon, or just some Popaloffoff vodka.     

Disney Hamilton Trump 4th of July

morning all, I had a terrible night of pain and tinnitus,  it's 14.43pm now
I've had about a week of pain, scattered all over my body

so be nice to me or I'll make you suffer. my usual sine curve of pain

nothing to do with ....

I'll post another story, so you too can suffer, ha ha ha

Well
United States

Poland

Germany

United Kingdom

Philippines

Russia

Saudi Arabia

are amongst today's readers so far
 as well as Czech

so thank you all, don't forget I'm available for MEDIA
but you'd have to start paying me
I'll probably die first, before any cheques arrive

The T word is still being himself, will he remember the 130,000 Covid Dead

or are statues of Traitors more important. 

He'll never wear a mask, because he thinks it's macho
It'd be proof of his lack of leadership and compassion

He never thanks the teams of Deep Cleaners, who clean his bubble, so he
the lord and master cannot catch it
The Queen smells pain everywhere she goes as things are retouched
The T word must smell Bleach everywhere, as his Deep Cleaners
clean before and after him
That's why he grins, he's high on cleaning fluids

Hamilton is on Disney now, I took a sneaky look
but my big nice tv does not have an App.

Meanwhile the Tword,  is busy destroying and mocking
and everything so shocking
The Vets who still support him even after

may wonder why he refuses to rename Army bases named after
"traitor" generals, and will block funding to spite Warren

all so very sick and sad, perhaps sick and sad should replace the T word

and tonight 300,000 may spread Covid as they watch fireworks

Freedom is great, but if it means not having Common sense

then you lose all your freedoms, because you are sick or even dead

Economy stupid

but hey Stupid, the Economy is People

and if they are sick or dead, all 130,000 dead so far

Then there is NO ECONOMY

Dead men have no money to spend

Just 2 pennies over their eyes to pay the Ferryman

So have a great 4th of July, but losing your Health or Life

just so the T word can gorge himself on False Patriotism

When he never read his briefs, and shouts down anybody

who gives him the UNADULTERATED TRUTH

as the GIs die, and he's too busy preening himself

Masking reality, while never wearing a mask

Because that would hit his vanity

So if you do go there

Just shout   RESIGN over and over again, through your mask

GIs died and die so you can all shout RESIGN

and that would be the Best of USA today

Disney Land USA with Trump as an Emperor with  no clothes

as all around him people are sick and dying

and he is not  even TRYING



4826 sorry I've been coughing my guts up

4826 sorry I've been coughing my guts up is it a very bad cold, or whooping cough but my underlying health conditions heart, kidney, art...