Colour Blind

Colour Blind ©

                                                                By Michael Casey

Today I’ll not mention any heat or cross dressing, sorry to disappoint my readers in the Philippines, Priests or Sinners of anybody else. I’ve got Barry White singing in the background as I talk to you all, the wife has recovered her voice and is ordering folks about in two languages, the cat Totoro has let herself out via a window and is off killing the local wild life. Everybody should have a hobby I suppose, though I noticed that the ham I bought today has a RSPCA sticker on it. The pigs in Heaven will no doubt appreciate that.

Today we are discussing colour in our house, no nothing to do with Barry White or my sometimes black humour, you’ll have to ask the pink pigs about that, or the RSPCA. No, what we are talking about is colour, as in what colour our walls are going to be painted in. Me I like white, as it makes a place brighter, we do live in a South Facing home, so that does colour our lives, and anybody else’s house looks Grimm or is it Brothers Grimm by comparison.  By the way for the record they only wrote 250 or was it 280 stories. My total is around 2000. They were actually very educated, I even have a copy of their Fairy Tales on the book shelf behind me, you can have  it too, just go to Amazon. And yes my stuff is on Amazon too, it may take 200 years before you all start buying it.

Barry is singing about the colour of your hair, my weakness is red or browny red hair. See colour of hair makes men defenseless, and women know this and spend billions on hair colouring products. Though Chinese girls do have the best hair of all, as for my hair, it’s ever so soft, and wonderfully silver, but you will all have to take my word for it. All the little old ladies in the White House will be spitting at the screen now, envy really is one of the seven deadly sins. No I’m not calling Donald a little old lady, he has his own little old lady as we call them in UK, Melania. No the White House I’m talking about is the retirement home up the road in Spangles Lane, Stars and Spangles is the name of the pub opposite. So residents use their walkers to get to the pub and a wheelbarrow brings them back. So I hope I’ve explained things clearly, the Donald does not drink as we all know.

But talking of blondes, Donald is a blond after all, why do blondes always have the most fun, or in Donald’s case, why does this blond always have the most fun? Because he has a good grip and knows where all the bunkers are, which reminds me of the Dr Strangelove film, which you can find for yourselves. See this talk of blondes or is it the blond, has made me lose my thread, speaking of thread that reminds me of a camel and the eye of a needle. But the Base believes anything can go through the eye of a needle, whatever colour it is.

But I was talking about our walls, what colour should they be, the wife has ordained that Shingle is the colour of her choice. I did tell her that Shingles was a disease that spreads around your belly and if the spots join up you are in deep deep trouble. I can remember my old Kerry Irish mum telling me all about it on one occasion. So there you have it Shingle colour is ordained, but remember Shingle colour on your walls is not the same as Shingles you put on your roof which are a dark grey, the colour of tombstones. I do have a new friend called Tombs, so hello to her if she ever stumbles over this. So I was worried that our walls would be the colour of my tomb, I can wait for the tomb without it invading my living room and pointing to my final exit. Charles Dickens has a lot to answer for, him and  his Christmas Carol, though my wife does have a  friend called Karol, a Polish guy. Even though she thought it was Carole and was amazed when  she turned out to be a Polish he.

Back against the wall, is that how you are all feeling as I talk to you, that’s not nice, I may punctuate you all! Did you like the exclamation mark, no, well please yourselves. At least there is no blood on the wall or carpet, just a little kebab sauce and coffee stains. We had a very nice carpet and yes, I spilt my coffee all over it, it’s still a very nice carpet, apart from that one spot. If I stand decoratively on that spot when we have visitors then, it still looks very nice, thanks to John Lewis. Otherwise it looks as if Jackson Pollock was about to start but dribbled a bit. The moral of the story is don’t have white or sand coloured carpet near traffic areas, ok, don’t ever let a fat silver haired writer in shades from Birmingham have a drink. Not unless he is standing on concrete .