Getting you Going

Getting You Going ©

By

Michael Casey

Well it’s a good title what are you expecting? A Porn star President may be expecting one thing, it’s such a good line I’ve borrowed it from the Democrats. I expect to hear it over and over again, Porn star President, once the multiple candidates are eliminated, it will be the attack line. We are all expecting the Mueller report, and even it does say no Collusion, there is so much sleaze around this President, the world thinks he has debased America for his own profit. Am I getting you going now, hurling curses at the screen, what does this fat silver haired writer in shades from Birmingham, the one in Merry old England know? Fifty, five zero, 50 years of watching the news at least, and how many Americans actually watch and study the news? Not enough, PERIOD.

So that’s one version of getting you going. As I talk to you I’m listening to Jean Michel Jarre’s Revolution, I can actually remember being introduced to it by Mark Alder, a great cartoonist by the way, and maybe Chris Garret, whose grandfather the legend goes stole the FA Cup, or maybe he was pulling my leg while we were in a bar, in 1988. 1988 was the year for Revolution, other years were involved for being in a bar.

The whole world swirled around me, and being anal retentive of the mind, it all went in and I remembered it, then I spew it out later on the page. My kids just jammed the toaster and I shouted at them to unplug before shoving a knife inside it. Then as we debated which was better to use to get the crumpet out, in a flash I just remembered stuff learnt in Physics back in 1973 or 1974. And then I bore you about it. This is where the stories come from, Trigger, a trigger is pulled then I have a page of material. Total Recall, but only for stories, I am not Mike from Suits, I could never remember serious stuff. Certain things get me going.

So we all have triggers, it might be a hunky builder, it might be the Korean girl down the takeaway. Things trigger an excite us. But equally as well, certain things repel us. Trump’s arrogance and conceit, and lies, and total ego-centic nature makes me sad and want to cry, for America. Maybe he has an Epiphany this weekend, and decides to play golf with his son Barron, who is now a teenager, and don’t waste what remains of his life doing Politics. I’d spend time with my kids, and  have done so, which is great, especially considering my Health, at least they will remember me, because I was there for them, a hausfrau.

Returning to getting you going. So you meet the girl of your dreams, the Korean girl from the takeaway. Then she is a smoker. That would send me heading for the exit, even if she was naked on my bed. I just hate smoke, even a tiny whiff makes me sick. Imagine a coating of honey on your ceiling, this is what you get in a smoker’s room. But it is not honey. In the family house decades ago my brother used to smoke in there, and that was the result. Dirty honey on the ceiling. So just image that is the inside of a smokers lungs. And despite the naked Korean girl on your bed, she would taste like an ashtray.

Now for balance maybe I should say image a naked hunk on your bed, pick anyone from the posters on your wall. Or imagine a gay or lesbian icon naked in your bed. Would they get you going? Or would they get you going to the exit. Or if he/she had funny feet? Or B.O. There are a whole multitude of things that make all of us say NO. The ultimate image is me naked on your bed with all my surgery scars, on my chest and the full length of both legs, with the aroma of Movelat pain killing gel on my left shoulder mainly. Now are all you women, and maybe even a few men enticed by this. WOOSH. That was the sound of you all getting as far away as possible, and the WOOSH as you all puke all over your computer screen. All except a Korean girl, but she is a smoker.