You calling me a Liar, Bastard?

You calling me a Liar, Bastard? (c)

By

Michael Casey

I was having a haircut in 1978, 42 years ago, in the Barbers a bald headed man was cutting my hair. We were talking, and why aren’t you working, it’s the middle of the week? I work shifts. What do you do? I’m a computer operator, we do Market Research into alcohol sales. The barber stopped to dispense something for the weekend, as some man hovered by his shop door. That’s how condoms were bought and sold all those years ago. Then he carried on with my hair as I explained how sales were tabulated and then processed via the computer, which can me a job. As I was leaving the barber said he had a “Osiometer” at home, what’s that I innocently asked. It tells me when I hear “Bullshit”. In essence he was calling me a LIAR. So rather than punch him, I never gave him my custom ever again.

Now spotting on my Blogger today that somebody used a Plagiarism machine or monitor as they looked at my site reminded me of this event. Yes a 42 year old memory was rekindled. I also met a rich guy in the Bell Inn Haborne Birmingham, where all the rich people live. I ended up sending him a copy of Shoplife my hit play, which I wrote in 1988, and was accepted for production but not finally produced. The man, claimed I stole the idea, I was a THIEF. So obviously I wiped my bum with his “gracious” note and flushed it away.

Some people do not give you credit, and never will. One of my sisters was a shop worker hence source material, I also have eyes, I try to be very observant, I am a People person, not Paper. Though now as a writer I put people on paper, or my computer, as everything is straight to computer, then posted and backed up. No paper involved. I bought myself an Atari 520 on Dave Eaton’s recommendation, not for the games but for the word processor. It cost earth, but I was not married, and writing still is my only vice. And you can make your own jokes up about that.

So why do we care if we are called LIARS? Well Trump does not care, and if USA does not descend into anarchy via Covid19, Lies, Damn Lies and Statistics and Deaths will decide his Future, though as Michael Cohen warned us, he’ll not leave graciously. But there is a God, so hopefully Truth and Trump will out.

So why do we care if we are called liars? Personally if you lie about a penny you cannot and should not be trusted with a Trillion. It’s old fashioned values. Tell the Truth and Shame the Devil, tell me the Truth and I will not hit you, as my mother used to say when I was very small, and still naughty. She would have reached 100, next week. I was her fifth and almost last child. She did have a final sixth child, and used to go to the Post Office to collect her Pension and Family Allowance on the same day, which amused her no end.

Our Integrity matters, well not to thieves nor American Politicians, maybe your Politicians in your countries are perfect, my readers are spread over 80 countries. So you will know better than me. It’s obvious to me anyway there will be revolt and rebellion world wide post Covid19, as people breakout in all senses of the word and an accounting will be made. Let’s hope the nukes are all locked up. Or perhaps we’ll have an era of Peace. What is also obvious it that the Developed world will have to vaccinate the poor ½ or is it 2/3 of the world. And for selfish reasons. If you don’t cure the poor world then the whole world is in danger again. Simple self serving logic, no lie. You fix all the holes in a boat or it will sink.

Yes, people tell white lies, sometimes so kids and grandparents don’t cry or fear for their future especially in today’s Covid 19 times. But the solution is in our hands, or in our beds. If we stay in bed and watch tv, count the curves on your girlfriend’s body, or imagine waxing your boyfriend’s bum. Just self isolate a bit more it really isn’t a chore. If you have had foresight, you’ll have visited your own bald headed barber, and bought a gross not for the weekend but for the isolation for you and your girl. And if stocks had run low, then the stork will come a visiting. While your there though, tell him the kid from 42 years ago is now a Writer, and he can stick his “Osiometer” up his bum. Or am I a liar?