Therese May, Shanghai and Me

Well Theresa May is in Shanghai today, Carrie Gracie is not there as she is otherwise engaged. Though Carrie does remind me a lot of my sister, they are even the same age.

More power to your elbow Carrie, I have  daughters and I know they are better than men, they just pretend they are equal so the boys don't cry. Big Boys Don't Cry as 10cc used to sing. Perhaps Carrie should put that on her website.

As for Theresa I fear she will be overthrown when she gets back. They are very close to having enough letters to force an election. Sadly for the Tories they all seem so uninspiring.

But back in Shanghai Theresa will have a great time, lots of gender equality there, the One Child policy has led to many women running major companies.  All of them Billionairesses.
So Theresa should advise them about Learning English via Comedy Short Stories written by me, Michael Casey the fat Silver Haired Writer in Shades from Birmingham.
I do have a Shanghai wife myself and our  two daughters are bilingual. So come on over and learn English with me. Or go into business with me and let's teach China to laugh and learn English.

 https://www.amazon.co.uk/Michael-Casey/e/B00571G0YC   

If they follow the link it has my first 15 books, well over one million words.

On the way back.  Theresa, if you stop by my mother in law's in Shanghai you could bring bag of goodies from the mother in law. You can put it in your Diplomatic Bag, or just make your husband carry it.

All the best to all my Shanghai family and the PM and the Press Corps traveling with you, I may go around to Carrie Gracie's sorry I mean my sister's later, they do look so similar, for some left over Pizza.

Stay Happy, for life is a long road and it goes from Shanghai to Birmingham

Michael Casey

Hunting Around

Hunting Around ©

By

Michael Casey

I was wondering what to talk to you about tonight, I’m in a bit of pain but I won’t talk about that as it bores you, I just wish I didn’t have pain in my life. So instead Let’s Talk about Hunting Around, I’m not talking about Totoro our cat going hunting either, I’m talking about all of us when we hunt around for anything. I was doing my Gay Dad shopping the other day, hunting around for stuff for my daughter to wear. Now she’s at college, a very good one, she needs more clothes, she is a 16 year old girl after all.

So she sits down beside me and we look online together on my big screen monitor, she already has had a look on her own, now together we look again. It’s at this point that the Gay Dad recommends a different shade of this or a totally different colour of that. And of course I am right. She went to college and wowed them. By having her dad look at the items, two things happen, I sprinkle my Gay Dad’s fairy dust on the shopping. And then I have the honour of paying for everything.

Then her little sister spots her online as she is filmed entering the classroom for A Level Philosophy in her new attire. Really there should be an essay on The Influence of Gay Dad’s in the Purchasing Processes for Adolescence Attire. Or in plain English, dad may be a fat silver haired writer in shades, well in his own imagination, but he knows his shades, and best of all he pays for what I wear.

So that explains one form of hunting around. Another is when you are looking for the cat and Totoro has not hidden under any bed but in the bed snuggled under the duvet. So you go hunting High and Low, just like the Ah Ha song while the cat gently slumbers. You are the fool looking for the cat to feed it, because you noticed the cat’s bowl was empty but the cat has already been fed and is sleeping it off.

Presents for Christmas and Birthdays also involve lots of hunting high and low, especially if its for a sister or wife or lover. For a woman you have to prove how much you love her, so nothing or anything won’t do. So what can you give the girl who has everything? And I’m not talking about ex-wives either, they literally do have everything, all your stuff. But I digress, you need to look hard to please a woman. In the end you give her driving gloves to match the weather, cold. They happen to be 1/2 price, in a sale, so those are the ones you give, which is great as you were down to your last note in your wallet. But you still have that emergency note in your back pocket, the one your dad always told you to keep for the rainy day. Which means you can buy some Stella Artois to console yourself with as its still 3 days till pay day.

On other occasions you have no cash left at all and a Birthday is due, so in desperation you look about your office and see an old photo of the pair of you. You can’t not give something, you know each other 50years. But then inspiration strikes, you take the photo out the frame and photocopy it on the new office copier. Then you take the wedding photos out and use the silver frame with a brand new copy of your life long friend. Using your best new free sample pen you write Still My Best Friend on the bottom of the photo. Your friend is soppy so he’ll love a larger version of the photo in a silver frame. You have to polish the frame and glass first, but the office cleaner does it for you as you are so rubbish. This will lead to you and the cleaner having an affair at a later date, from acorns might oaks do grow after all.

And on life goes, finding clean pants and socks in the morning as you cannot find where the wife has tidied away your clothes. You end up going to work with different coloured socks. This makes the cleaner laugh, and though she is 20 years younger she wants to mother you, and you in turn give in, and turn her into a mother.

So the moral of the story is, be tidy be organised, be what you want to be, but be careful. Because otherwise the cleaner’s brother may be hunting high and low, and not to give you a silver photo frame.

Peer Pressure

Peer Pressure ©

By

Michael Casey

Peer Pressure is when you are forced to do something you really might not do if you did not feel Pressurised. It can come in many forms, at the fair where you all pay a pound for a mystery box, the hawker with the microphone is very good. Then when he has all the money he says 1 2 3, and you all open your box to reveal you present. And guess what its a key ring worth 20p. Or 10p as the hawker has bought thousands from China. You do get a chance to get your money back, but nobody does, so the hawker makes 90p from everybody. Though on one occasion, one sole person asked for their money back before the great reveal, it was my brother, who later went on to Downing Cambridge, to study Economics.

The moral is trust nobody, especially when they are appealing to your greed. The same goes at the other end of the scale, this will be good for you, this will make you feel so good. When somebody is offering drugs or any other kind of good time. Just say NO. Especially if you are drunk or vulnerable, if it won’t wait till the morning or next Wednesday, then its not a good idea. What would your old granny think, if she would say he or it is a dodgy, then just say NO and go home.

The same goes with form filling. They don’t need your phone number nor your Date of Birth. They’ll just use it to Data Mine you, and if you are online they can and will do worse.Mulder did say Trust Nobody, and it was me who told him to tell you that. It was me who gave him his first break as a Hand Model in Zoolander.

Now am I lying or am I trying to Prove that you should never believe what you read in FB or any Online Media. You should always watch 2 tv news, BBC and Sky, and skim through the Daily Telegraph, Daily Mail and the Guardian. And maybe listen to a radio news too. That’s what I do every day, and no I’m not a journalist, though I’d love a column if Rupert is reading this, but Donald might tell him to give me one.

My point is by being Informed and not just Entertained then you are Educated in your decisions. That’s why Rupert Murdoch IS right, Zuckerberg and FB should feature and pay for Real News, and not BS. Then you don’t give in to Peer pressure telling you to do this or to do that as it really is so good for you. You should Opt In for good news, and don’t be anybody’s tool and fool because you cannot or will not think for yourself.

You first position, and I’m not talking Ballet, is NO, and then Why, and then Prove it. Followed by What’s in it for me? Closely followed by What’s in it for You?  The last bit is usually what people don’t want you to know. Never sign any Petitions, think for yourself, come back to it later. Let Me Think About It. Should be your stock answer,as you slam the door in the face of anybody suggesting it really is so good for you.

In today’s Twitter world where everybody want’s to Tweet and be oh so Funny,in their own imagination. Do not follow the herd and be a Polly, a Pretty Polly chirping away, because everybody else says its the thing to do. It is NOT. Think for yourself give into nobody, be yourself. You could be like the cafe parrot on High Street Smethwick when my dad was alive and sweating in the steel works. That parrot used to scream “Close the Bleeding Door”, and so should you.

      

Coming out of the Closet

Coming out of the Closet ©

By

Michael Casey

I’ve just tied up my wardrobe, or rather what used to be my wardrobe, and it was interesting to discover what was inside. And for all of you who thought I was going to declare myself Gay, sorry to disappoint you. I am only interested in Women, real ones, and with an eye to the Oriental, such as Korea, Japan and China. My wife is a Shanghai girl after all. Though my next wife will be Korean, depending on which one of us dies first. I’ve looked outside and the hitman has not arrived, yet. Not unless my wife hires a Korean girl to kill me. She will be going out with her Gay male friend later on, such is life’s eternal balance. Meanwhile my girls are at the Panto with other members of my family. Panto is where men dress as women and vice versa, it’s the end of the Panto season today and it could be Dick Whittington who used his cat to clean out all the rats in London. Which is vaguely topical.

So let’s get back to me and my closet, it is nearly big enough for me to climb into, and then I really would be coming out of my closet, but only to carry clothes, no other meaning implied. That’s the joy of language, you can give it many meanings. That’s what Shakespeare enjoyed doing with his puns. I hope all students passing by my site this weekend have as much fun with language as I do, whatever your own first language happens to be, and you speak 25 different languages at least. Maybe one of you reading this really is the Korean girl hitman or hitgirl waiting to take me out. I hope the take out is prawn toast from the local Chinese us the road, or then again you may be introducing me to the undertaker.

At this point I need a bit of food so I’ll pause and eat while you amuse yourselves, you may even ring your mother to say you are coming out of the closet. To which she will reply,I knew before you even knew,I am your mother after all. Just bring in the coal from the coal shed when you come home, those 100kilo sacks are too heavy for your old mum. I love you whatever you want to call yourself, the only name I know you by is Son. Which is as it should be.

Well I stumbled to the shop, my arthritis is being a *&*( today and I bought some bread and I’ve had a feed so I’m back with you all refreshed. I did nearly trip over a bag of clothes for the Charity shop, as wife has had a clear-out while our daughters are at the Panto with uncles and aunties, and left a bag by the front door. But if I spot our local Romanian recycle lady she’ll have them first. That’s the nice thing about clear-outs your old stuff finds new life and goes to those who really really need a hand up.

So now Freddie Mercury is singing to me as I talk to you, and did you know 30 years ago I used to look a bit like him, or so my wife claims when she looked at old photos of me. You discover things you thought were lost when you look in the closet. My clothes are scattered in 3 bedrooms, as daughters and the wife lay claim to all the storage space. I’m lucky my clothes aren’t squeezed between the cat food and our 2 month supply of toilet paper, yes I need to be ready hence that much toilet paper.We had 192 rolls delivered 2 days ago. See I am a boy scout, always prepared.

I found 3 jumpers folded into a rolled up mess, at the bottom of the closet, I think the girls had been using it as a draught excluder for their door, or for a cat pillow. It’s dad’s he won’t mind, especially if we don’t tell him. This is the worse winter in 10 years maybe and I need all my jumpers, but at least the cat had a pillow.

I did find a new belt, I had bought it in Italy in 95 I think, but it languished in the wardrobe. I bought a lot of belts as I could not find anything else I liked on holiday. Or my sister would say, you were just too fat, admit it, too fat by far, so you bought belts to hold your up your trousers, you big little fattie. She’s got a Canary up the Leg of her Drawers you know, and when she farts, well you can Google that to find the full rhythm. I did of course teach my girls the rhythm as soon as they understood the meaning of words, so when they were 3.

I found loads and loads of plastic bags, I hope my wife hasn’t been saving them to wrap my body in after the Korean girl hitman pays me a visit. But of course not we don’t have a deep freeze in the garage, though she was looking at a freezer catalogue recently, no it can’t be, its just my imagination.

What else did I find in the closet, I found a dolls house, my daughter’s first dolls house, she has a bigger one just outside the wardrobe. I was half expecting to find a way to Narnia as I pushed the clothes to one side. But there are no Princes in my wardrobe, there is a witch in the house but that is the wife downstairs, I am her Panda or Polar Bear, when she isn’t calling me Panzi. You can Google Panzi its Pinyin Chinese.

What else was in the closet? Tiny thin metal coat hangers which we all hate, wooden or plastic are far nicer. My old school tie had also survived, 40 years old and more. Then at the bottom of the wardrobe I found some slippers, not for any Cinderella nor for any Pantomime Dame, NO I’m not talking about myself. I thought Lech and Boris and Gregorgi were still shoveling snow in Davos, oh no we are not, oh yes we are, oh no we are not. Those three are just too clever.

Then there was a half coffin size box at the bottom of the closet. My small daughter keeps her treasure in it. But if the Trio are back and if the Korean hit girl does come for me, will they save me or offer their services to bury me in the 1/2 coffin size box. I’ll fold the story there.  

Sign of the Times

Sign of the Times ©

By

Michael Casey

Sign of the Times can mean anything, its a song as well. But what does it mean to you? To me, tonight it means my physical body has perhaps reached its weakest, well for today anyway. I used to be able to stand for 12 hours a day and walk 5 miles. Today I can go out shopping but return tired, I don’t quite need a nap, but its a close thing. In a way its sad because you can feel the shadow of the Grim Reaper fall over you. This weekend also marks the anniversary of my dad’s death so that does bring on many memories.

I used to be a lumberjack and I was ok, chopping down trees, and wearing girlies’ clothing, suspenders and a bra, just as Monty Python did. I did get a lot of flack from the other members of the rugby team, but good hookers are hard to come by, so they respected my clothing decisions. I was quick and I always got the ball, I did not want my stockings ripped after all. It did happen once and there was such a maul afterwards and 3 players were sent off, and the referee’s mum came on to slap a few legs, just to restore order.

But that was then and this is now. How things change. You used to sing dirty songs on the coach to rugby matches, nowadays that is just a memory and you cannot remember the words at all. You go on visits to Holy Places instead, that’s what marrying the vicar’s daughter entails. It must be the same for Theresa May’s husband, visiting The Palace of Westminster when really he’d like to go to Crystal Palace to watch the football. But marriage does that to you.

When you first marry you are both full of vim and vigour, figure skating around each others’ bodies in bed. Then children appear, so you go bed to sleep instead. Besides the children have radar, so they can intercept and parental desires. You are both trapped apart, holding the babies so you cannot even practice making any more babies.

Your looks begin to fade, and your clothes get tighter, you’re sure they have shrunk in the wash. Its because Married Men, and Women get fatter, its God’s design. Thin to bait the trap, then hips and bellies get bigger, and everything drops thanks to Gravity. But you love each other, besides nobody would want you now, because you have the married look. You are permanently tired, school runs and overtime to pay for your crime, sex and marriage. They come and go together, so you have buy shoes for children and trendy clothes too. Meanwhile you evolve into the missing link, the tramp with the well dressed kids, you cannot afford anything for yourself.

And on it goes so you buy clothes in 2^nd hand or charity shops, not because you are being Retro and Trendy but because that is all you can afford. And its there while changing to try on a new secondhand pair of trousers that you meet temptation. The woman in the charity shop sees your strong legs and wants all of you. You end up making love amongst the donations in the back of the Charity Shop.It wasn’t planned it wasn’t even anything, it just happened.

Your wife doesn’t suspect but you become very well dressed in a Retro kind of way. Your kids work it out but don’t care because you are out of their hair, but in, well enough said. Your wife doesn’t notice because she has gone back to work and is now a manager. So you carry on carrying on in the back of the charity shop. So in a way it is perfect, except you get the woman in the charity shop pregnant, she thought she was too old to conceive, but with a lot of Charity anything can happen.

So now you are living the married life again, with your pregnant girlfriend living in your daughter’s bedroom. She has gone to University now, and your wife is so very understanding and charitable, so a baby conceived in a Charity shop is born, its a girl, so you call her Charity.

You did not plan any of this, it was inconceivable that Faith the girl from the Charity shop would have a baby. You Hoped she was mistaken, but no matter what you had Hoped, Faith had conceived Charity. At least your wife was understanding, she liked the idea of more children but it did not happen in the marriage. But now a new baby was born, she was just too understanding. I forgot to say she was the manager of a Baby Wear Shop.

See God works in mysterious way, though some might say men should just keep their trousers on, especially in charity shops. 

Too Good to Criticise

Too Good to Criticise? ©

By

Michael Casey

I needed a nap today, as I was getting out of bed I switched on the radio, BBC Radio4, which is like the World Service that you all listen to all over the world. I stumbled on a conversation where a Posh Female Poet was being criticised for criticising mere mortals. Ok, I’m encapsulating it, I was putting my socks on at the time before getting dressed.

Literary Criticism while naked is never a good idea, though your boyfriend or girlfriend may criticise you at any time of the day or night, naked or not. You may think you are safe sat on the toilet or in the bath, but criticism can come at any time. Conversely your very best ideas may come while sat on the toilet, and remember Archimedes HE was in the bath.

So tonight I want to talk about criticism. Should you not criticise because the writer is a fat silver haired writer in shades from Birmingham? Or because he’s had a bad heart and arthritis and his Ckd is bad? Or should you say that Michael Casey is really really rubbish and if ever I meet him I’d spit at him, or just ignore the fat smelly man? Or I’d just give him a 200ml of Ck One every time I meet him? Not because I like him or any or his puerile words, but because I want to remind him he STINKS.

That in essence is the debate I heard on the radio, while I was naked and putting my socks on first. If the Radio people could see me as I was getting dressed would they PUKE? Or would they be aroused? We do not have interactive radio yet, so we will never know the answer to that question.

It is a very important point though, not me being naked, but whether you support somebody’s Art because of their handicap? And no I’m not still talking about my body but whether I must buy tickets because he is from Planet Zogg, so I really must support them. And what is Planet Zogg’s Art? It is farting through a hoop to make bubbles, literally Blowing Bubbles full of Farts. Then they drift over the audience to burst, covering the audience in soap and farts. So the man from Planet Zogg is a millionaire, who can do no wrong.

The point is should you support rubbish in the name of compassion or charity? Or say Planet Zogg is a load of hot air, very smelly hot air, and we should prick his bubble and let him have his own farts back in his face? Here’s a donation now get lost, I’m watching the MU match or whatever IF Planet Zogg was doing a Charity thing. Or just say NO, whether it was a Charity thing or just working for himself.

My opinion is that if it is Good then it is Good, but don’t over praise something which is rubbish, or just leaves a stink, like Planet Zogg’s act or Art. Vote with your Feet. If you hate MY stuff then you just stop reading it, I know none of my readers are reading it because I’m fat and silver haired in shades and from Birmingham, the one in England.

Nor because of all my medical weaknesses, which I mention because they are part of me and hurt me. They are NOT ME, I am ME and the writing is ME, I’m not defined by my weaknesses. So judge me for a reason as the song goes, and let that reason be, because I make you laugh and think. I’ll take my clothes off now and have a shower, and maybe Radio 4 will have a good debate on while I shower, is he really that fat and hairy, and look at those scars, interactive radio in the shower.  

And if I do stink, I will accept Ck One 200ml bottles anytime.

Free Stuff

Free Stuff ©

By

Michael Casey

Well my daughter is home from school so I’ve told her I’ll be with her in an hour after I’ve written this. She’s off out anyway to see some Mentor about some Church stuff. I like the word stuff its a great coverall word, like duvet or throw are. Though I’ve discovered some Americans don’t understand all my language, though Polish and Ukrainians do, even though English is their 2^nd language. But I digress.

Today I want talk about Free Stuff, such as all the ads we are subjected to all over the place. Buy one and get one free, or two for the price of one, though that is also a line from a song on The Visitor’s album by Abba, my favourite album of theirs. Go listen its on Spotify.

You also get free stuff offered by emails, after Microsoft haven’t read your emails but know enough about you to offer adverts perfect for you, because they have scanned your emails, which is reading them, or are they following my sites? Or am I just a fat silver haired writer in shades from Birmingham?

I mention pain in my writing as its part of my life, and so recently I’ve been offered CBD or some other letter combination. I had to Google it before I realised it was Cannabis, legal cannabis. If you knew how much I detest drugs, I take loads but they are legal ones called medicine that my doctors insist I take. So being offered drugs even so called legal ones just makes me want to puke.

I can get on a bus and have to smell the stuff as some routes have more cannabis users on them than others. And passive smoking of drugs gives me headaches when I’ve bumped into the haze accidentally. Skunk the strong version is terrible, and sadly the users think its cool. I’ve know about all this stuff for 50 years from when I was a child, every generation think they are the first generation. Imagination is the only thing worth having and you don’t need any substances to help you find your Muse.

So I declined the “you have been chosen michaelgcasey” invitation. I also got another junk email for pain relief from USA. The Opioid crisis in USA hasn’t reached us yet in England, so I’ll stay on the NHS medicines, and grin and bear and scream and swear, sounds like a dance routine, Google LuLu’s Shout song too.

I sidetracked myself as usual, what was I really going to talk about? Yes, Free Stuff. As far as food goes I only buy what I or the girls eat, and crisps and chocolate is top of the list, because they are girls, and its a change from all the Chinese food from Shanghai mum. So any offers or free stuff is always good. I never buy something I don’t need. I just had to buy three shovels and a pick, because the pick was free. You are not Snow White buying presents for the Dwarfs.

By the way did I tell you when my sister was in Normandy as part of her year abroad she went to the cinema and saw Snow and The Seven Dwarfs in French, she sat next to a family. On the Monday the PE teacher teased her and asked had she got a boyfriend yet. So my sister stood up in the Staff Room, which in France is more like a cafe, and Sung in French Some Day My Prince Will Come.

So let that be a lesson to anybody who tries to put down a Casey. You can also be tempted by holiday offers, which many people are thinking about now in January as Winter bites. Have two weeks for the price of one, which is very good, but will you have enough spending money to last? Far better to have a one week holiday somewhere really nice, and if you can bring 2 weeks spending money for that one week of holiday, now that’s a better offer.

Free is a strange word, so is Casey, who said that, I though I’d got rid of Boris and Lech and Gregorgi didn’t they win a free holiday to Davos, no they are just shoveling snow for a week, and no it’s not a metaphor. As I was saying Free does not mean free, well not to a sales person. It’s like a prostitute showing an ankle, you have to pay to see the rest, and as for anything else, you really do have to pay.

So Free this or Free that does not lead to the other. You can have it free then you have to pay, you thought it was free but you have to pay. Because it’s a trick. Offers for Computer Software can be like that, free for 60days, pay nothing at the checkout, but they have your bank details now.Other free offers ARE free you get it for a month then if you like it you sign up. Beware of free software offers because there are loads of sharks that will poison your computer, and if its a business computer you will be screaming and screaming because you fell for the free offer.

Just to remind you all you should do backups every day to 3 media, or even twice a day. If you lose your customer details what are you going to do? So even if it is just 3 usb sticks. That is better than zero security. You can get Free Email too, so if you have 3 accounts with 3 different email providers then you can email files to yourself and back files up to the One Drive or G Drive or whatever it is. Free yourself from worry. Computer Security gives you Peace of Mind, one place I worked nearly went bust, due to lack of security, almost. Remember I started in computers 40 years ago.

I’ve wandered all over the place today, but that’s the thing with Free Stuff it distracts you from what you really want and what you really were going to do. So be disciplined, have a list, at least in your head, and then if there is free stuff find it and use it. Even if its coupons for toilet paper, and yes I speak from experience, some of you in America may call me just a bum, but at least I have plenty of paper for my own bum.

This is my new About Me from My Wordpress site, it went all blue it must be the weather

This is my new About me from my Wordpress Site 

It went all blue, it must be the cold..

https://michaelgcaseyfrombirminghamengland.wordpress.com

Contact michaelgcasey@hotmail.com

 BUT WITH A GOOD SUBJECT LINE

I do not open links nor attachments nor empty messages.

 https://www.amazon.com/MichaelCasey/e/B00571G0YC 

2015 was worst year in my life, I was 2 hours from Death after my Unplanned Quadruple Heart Bypass. My pulse was 230 beats a minute, they had to zap me to slow down my heart etc.It was supposed to be a Triple but I later learnt it was 4 grafts. So I'm lucky to be alive. i also have the joys of Arthur my arthritis. If ever I make loads of money I'd start a Pain Relief Centre. And no I don't mean a house of ill repute, as I cannot play the piano like Les Dawson did. I hope to write 3,000,000 words before I die. I have reached 1,241,000 already. I have now produced 15 books, go to Amazon to BUY them. My daughter wants me to write 27 books, just like the 27 Dresses in the film, but writing books. It means she loves me and wants me to keep going. Yes many millions have more pain, I just bitch about it more eloquently.

 My Writer's profile on Amazon says it all. 

https://www.amazon.com/MichaelCasey/e/B00571G0YC 

https://www.amazon.co.uk/MichaelCasey/e/B00571G0YC
 as does my Blogger Profile https://www.blogger.com/profile/08360300604946924721

 Google "michaelgcasey" and look for the fat silver haired writer in shades from Birmingham England look for the silly photos, not the posed photos. 

I am not the Monk of the same name either. 

This is my main site https://butcherbakerundertaker.blogspot.co.uk 

This is my backup site https://michaelgcasey.blogspot.co.uk

 And this is my other backup site 

https://michaelcaseyfrombirminghamengland.blogspot.co.uk 

https://www.blogger.com/profile/08360300604946924721 

And if you want to hear me then 

http://www.michaelgcasey.typepad.com 

https://soundcloud.com/michaelgcasey 

If that doesn't make you sick then nothing will. 
So please buy some books now. I'd like to buy my daughter a car for when she goes to University. I'd also like to move house but I don't think I'll ever sell enough books to do that. Not unless that black cat perched outside our house brings a lottery win. All our own cat brought was flies.


 The Flies Around Our Lives © By Michael Casey 

Well its 3pm and the wife is out relaxing or rather having a business lunch then she’ll meet some Shanghai friends in downtown Birmingham. A busy day for her. But life is all about balance, this morning as the snow fell she was busy washing the fleas out of our cat. Obviously it was my fault because I did not get a new flea collar for the cat last time around. Even though now she has a red rubber flea collar with a bell on. The collar with the “best bitch”medal has long since gone. So there I found the wife washing the cat in the bath, just when I wanted a pee, and I always want a pee. So I told the cat to close her eyes while I had my pee, the cat just laughed, she had seen it all before, she is a cat that goes out at night after all. Hence the fleas. So the cat was washed with my citrus shampoo, as the citrus is supposed to keep the fleas away. Perhaps a new medallion with a rude message for the fleas might work. So I went back to bed for another hour as I’d been up much earlier, thanks to Arthur my arthritis, I think its all the cold weather bringing it on. Later on I said hello to the cat who just gave me a lion look, she’d claw my, well she’d just claw my, if I didn’t shut up. Cats don’t like being washed. As for the wife she put on her posh clothes and went away for fancy food. The snow still tumbling down, she grabbed some money from my purse, so she could buy cat flea spray from the Vet on the way to her fancy food. Yes I have a purse for coins and a wallet for notes, my dad had a purse too, which was in his pocket as he worked in the steel works. So I follow his manly tradition. Now its later and its like steam bath in the house as we have put all the washing on the radiators to dry, yes people still do that in 2018. One daughter has come downstairs in her bright pink pyjamas that grannie sent from Shanghai, she is now feeding herself on chicken dippers by Birds Eye, a staple for the girls in our house. Its a change from all the Chinese food. The other has decided to walk in the snow to the church to do the Music Tidy, I told her not to go, but I was ignored, so I told her not to moan when she got a cold. Common Sense has to be learnt the hard way. I was lucky I watched all our lodgers 50 years ago, and learnt many things. The cat had been hiding behind the settee next to the radiator but she has since slipped up the stairs to hide in one of the bedrooms. Everything in its place, and a place for everything. If only I could put my Arthritis in the bin, that would be the perfect place for it. My mug is the computer desk to my left, to the left as the right side has the computer tower and to avoid potential mishaps the left is the safe side. The printer by my feet is covered in protective paper just in case of those coffee spills, and thank God for that. So everything is in its place. When I’ve finished talking to you this piece will find its place on my sites https://butcherbakerundertaker.blogspot.co.uk/ and https://michaelgcaseyfrombirminghamengland.wordpress.com/ and it’ll be backed up and secured too. So my words have their place in cyberspace and on my PC and security. I’m tidy and methodical, and you need to be, especially in a busy household or things disappear, such as girls’ leggings. My wife and my smallest daughter are the same size and my eldest daughter is a bigger size, but with leggings one size fits all. So yesterday we had the Pantomime of where are my leggings. After much name calling we found them. They had been left on the outside washing line when we’d been in a hurry to bring the washing in. And no I had not been wearing them, women’s silk stockings yes and high heels I will wear, in my private moments, you have all seen De Niro in Stardust. There is a time and a place for everything. I may pop out to the shops if the snow melts, depending on how my Arthur feels. It is like having an unwanted invisible friend having arthritis. Either way its quiet with the wife out of the house, she’ll no doubt reappear telling us all what great food she had twice. I’ll say any doggy bag? And she’ll reply I’m too fat already, being 3 times her weight literally means that’s her permanent put-down. I say think of my life insurance, so she smiles before changing back into her farmer clothes. Pyjamas with a National Geographic fleece on top, makeup is removed too so she then looks 17. So that’s a look at life with the Shanghai/Birmingham Caseys, Tororo our cat will reappear later looking for love and snacks. We have to put her collar back on, without the bell she could be an assassin or a Ninja cat. But most of all there are no fleas on her. And even if there were my wife would never let me eat them, as I’m too fat already.

 that's your lot now please go buy some books, I dare you, I double dare you.... Michael Casey the fat silver haired writer in shades from Birmingham England , there can only be one, just like in Highlander...

The Perils of Job Hunting

The Perils of Job Hunting

January 22, 2018

The Perils of Job Hunting ©

By Michael Casey

So Christmas is over and you start to think how much you hate your boss, sure you enjoyed snogging him at the Christmas party, but really you hate the SOB. So you are down the gym trying to avoid looking at  your bouncing boobs while you are on the treadmill. Or wishing your lunchbox was bigger, depending on your sex, or gender if I have to be PC. As you sweat you think I deserve better than this so you look at the job ads as you jog.

The salaries are so large, as large as your bouncing boobs or your fat arse, or as large as  you wish your lunchbox was, sometime you wish you were that Dave runner guy. But now you just wish you had another job. It’s the money that motivates.  40K for doing that, you do double that for half that. Only the job requires you to move to another city. To any city in any place you care to mention, depending on where you are as you read this, maybe Singapore or  Boston USA, or Kiev  or Paris or Egypt, where ever you are.

But for that money you’d go to the moon and you wouldn’t have to share with that stupid girl from your college days or with that dodgy bloke with the smelly feet. So you apply for the job, not realising that the Cayman Islands are in the Caribbean, and not a Channel Island near France. You don’t know the costs of anything. You have not done your research, so 40K may be twice what you ae on now, but over there  with living costs and so on, its half what you are on. So 40 does not equal  twice 20, in real terms 20 equals 10.

It’s a basic mistake that people make when they are in a hurry. You have to spend a minute checking your figures  before you apply. Living costs and Transport costs matter, and in London you have congestion charge too. Do you like going down the Tube? Some people do not, the Shanghai Metro is glittering and new as is other countries, Paris is Paris and  you may love it. Then some cities have major pollution, if you work by the sea do you think you would like the city smog?

You have to think about these things. Living space, working space, playing space, and I’m not talking about Mars bars either. You have to think before you leap or you’ll float off into outer space.

Read the job adverts clearly, google earth the address. Spacious open plan offices, with great views. A warm environment with a buzz. This really means there is a balcony that overlooks a carpark. The fire station is next door and there is a night club on the other side of the building. The building used to be a transport café just before the motorway, hence all the car parking, for trucks. 

It’s like when you look for houses, you MUST look at Google earth before you book any viewing, just in case there is a prison next door. Birmingham Prison used to be called Winson  Green Jail, so if it said Winson Green you knew you were near a jail. Which might be ok if you wanted to become a Prison Officer.

People Believe What they Want to Believe, this is even more so if they are running away from a job or people. The grass is always greener somewhere else. So you need to do a 360 degrees appraisal of the new job. And be honest can you really do the job? I know one person who thought he was the bees knees but had to resign within a week, as he was not up to the job. On paper the person was great, but in reality they were not up to the task.

If I was able to apply for jobs I’d have to be realistic. Could I carry heavy boxes of paper all day? NO. Could I run around a very hot print room all day? NO. Could I stand all day on marble for 12 hours and walk 5 miles every single day. NO. Those are just some of the jobs I did in the past. Now I’m lucky to be a Housewife or Hausfrau and look after the kids while my wife goes to work.  It gives me time to Write, but honestly I don’t have the Stamina for anything else, it’s not fun being weak compared to your former self. I could be a Gigolo but I’ve had no offers.

Getting back to you, can you handle all the work, the Job Spec says 10, but in fact 20 tasks are required. If you work in a hotel, expect to do everything, Roger counted up all the stuff I did and there were at least 10 different things. If you like to be busy and exhausted, then go work in a hotel, but if you want just to do one thing, be a machine minder. You have to have a job that suits your personality. For Me hotel work was the thing. Then years later Esol English teacher was perfect for me. It’s all about talking after all, and with a Writer’s mind it was fun and I enjoyed it. If you like Maths, and talking then be a Teacher because the Government in UK helps with your training and pays more for Maths skills. Obviously don’t be a Teacher if you hate kids. But it’s an idea for you.

So do a Reality check before you apply for those jobs. Will you miss your friends and your home comforts. Remember if you move to the big city you have to pay perhaps double for your accommodation, so your big wage soon disappears. Same goes for petrol costs and food costs. It soon mounts up, so you think 40 is great, double 20. In fact 40 can equal 20. So what’s the point ? 

Why do you want that job? If you are running away from that girl you got pregnant, maybe that’s a reason.  If you are ashamed you did a Bridget Jones and all you want to do is run away, then perhaps that’s another reason. The real reason for doing anything is Love. Because you Love the Job, not the Money. I was lucky in some of my jobs because the people are great, and the pay way good. In other jobs the pay was dire, but I had fun, and it was all I could get anyway. 

Remember to keep those job skills up to date, especially nowadays. I confess I am a dinosaur on the IT front, I was a computer operator 40 years ago this year, on DEC PDP 1170s you can google a picture. If I had a computer brain I could have become a programmer like Chris or an Engineer like Pad or Stu. I don’t know where the other 10 guys ended up. I do know that I am happy enough when my pains stay away because I am doing what I enjoy, I am the fat silver haired writer in shades from Birmingham, the one in England. Even if I am a bad housewife and not a Gigolo.


 https://soundcloud.com/michaelgcasey

  

 

The Midnight Hour

Posted on 22/01/2018 by michaelgcasey

I just spotted that somebody was looking at “300 and Not OUT”  which is a major collection of funny stories about the family and other bits and bobs. It was called very funny by a publisher at the time. As I talk to you I can remember back in 2012 talking to the physio and saying I could not make up my mind what to call the book. I was having a a bit of acupuncture at the time in my left arm. I’d finished a year as an Esol English teacher and I’d ended up with an arm problem, carrying a heavy briefcase full of work for the students. 2011 had been my teacher year, I even got “excellent, excellent and exemplary” on my external assessment. Yes I’m not telling lies. I am the entertainer kind of teacher.
So now its Midnight, 0r 00:09 according to the clock and its now Monday 22 Jan 2018, I spotted the 300 and Not OUT on my google search, so I wonder who’s been checking me out. I just wish it was my lucky break, at 59, after 30 years of writing, so I can be an “overnight” discovery. Not forgeting 20 years of Radio 4 Listening, by which I mean over 20 hours a week of Speech Radio, and not rubbish Shock Jocks. That’s 50 years to get me to where I am now, talking to you just after Midnight with Tinnitus in my right ear. I hope it goes away it’s been shadowing me for a week now. Perhaps I should form a band with Eric Clapton.
My Profile is best here.  https://www.blogger.com/profile/08360300604946924721
and here. https://www.amazon.com/MichaelCasey/e/B00571G0YC
Today’s total is 1300 short pieces,  over  15 books, the first is a Full Length Novel,
The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker  600 or so pages.
The rest are colletions of short stories, plus a few plays, Shoplife was accepted by a
professional theatre but not finally produced.
A low budget film producer did take a look at The Butcher The Baker and The Undettaker
And Radio people did like my writing style. That Paddington actor could read my stuff on
the radio when he’s finished being Brutus and stabbing people in the back not unless he
wants to go into Politics. Or I could read  my stuff myself, subject to voice test.
I don’t leave tons of stuff on my sites, I backoff and put my stories in a book when I have
enough new material.
Which all amounts to close but no cigar.
I’m still alive 3 years after my unplanned heart bypass which ended up as a Quadruple.
They say you can live 20 years but Statistcally 50% reach 10 years.
I also have arthritis. SO pain is part of my life, post heart op my chest gives me loads of
pain.  More pain that a Page 3 girl. The pain changes daily,  just as Page 3 girls do.
Yes many people have much more pain, but IF I win the lottery big time I’d start a pain
relief centre. And no I don’t mean some kind of house of ill repute. I cannot play the
piano like Lew Dawson.
So go to my writer’s page on Amazon and but my 15 books and not any books by
anybody else of the same name.
For just like in Highlander, there can only be one, and that’s Michael Casey the fast silver
haired writer in shades from Birminghmam, the one in England.