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.
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