Protection 2022 ©
By
Michael Casey
Well it’s been a while, so here’s a new new story, the first for 2022 and already I’m trying to get the font right. Ask any writer, they just have to have the right font in front of them, Palatino is what I prefer. It’s rounded and looks nice, and is clear when you read it. Not so small that you have to squint, and it’s curvy like a woman, or my own belly and super fat backside, whichever you prefer to look at. I’m flattered if it’s me that you find so appealing, Lockdown has a lot to answer for.
So, Mr Casey, just put a mask on, please, it is the rules. And a visor too, and a gown, no we haven’t finished yet. Then a Police Forensic white suit. No, the Plague is not here, and then get into the space suit, and if you flick the switch your own air supply will kick in, and the suit will inflate, so you look like the Michelin Man. Yes, we are all set now. It’s just that we think you stink as much as your writing. So, we did not want your rubbish to pollute our waiting area. No this is not the Hospital, this is HOSTspital a fab and trendy Italian restaurant next door, by the Windmill pub. That’ll be £12 service charge, but you can use our toilet for free.
So, I stripped naked and washed in the sink, like a monkey in a birdbath. I used all their fancy soaps, like the one you get in hotels, then steal and take home with you. So, I was stood naked drying myself under two fancy Dyson hand driers when Pearl came in, Pearl was a Singer, she was singing as she washed the floor. Either that or she was a machinist and the needle on her Singer had broke, but I won’t go on like a broken record. Pearl looked up and remarked that Kim would be so jealous, as my backside was huge, but well-toned though in need of a Black and Decker. I spun around and Pearl laughed. And that is how we first met. She was still laughed as I put my clothes on. You don’t type I asked trying to Change the subject. 120 WPM was her reply, I used to be be called The Flash at the law firm when I was younger. Though it was I who was flashing, though by now my face was bright red. All the fancy soaps had given me an allergic rash. And that is how I came to dictate to Pearl. She’d come to the house as I lay on the blue sofa and dictated my latest short story. A perfect union.
But, where was I? I was in the kitchen eating turkey rashers, making a pig of myself. I have to lose weight, I’ve given up the snacks in the night, have to ty and protect my heart. Totoro’s fault and the Tinnitus keeping me awake. So, I was going to talk about Protection, Just say No, Sleep in another room, or have a picture of me over the bed. If that does not take away the urge then NOTHING will.
Though I wasn’t going to talk about that either, I was going to talk about other Protections. Words, Clothes, Shades. I don’t want to say but, I may be wrong but, you may not want to hear this but. And so on. I know somebody who CLARIFIES every sentence, like a bad Politician glued by his backside to the fence. Real people don’t do it. They just say. Michael you are FAT, and grey haired like a 99 year old, and your after shave is so passe Ck One you only use it because it is the CHEAPEST like you, OLD MAN, you reek of the wrong perfume, Jeyes Fluid drain cleaner dabbed behind your ears would be better.
As for clothes, they are like Easter eggs, lots of coverage, when finally removed you are disappointed. All packaging then nothing at the centre. We hide or wrap up ourselves in clothing. If you are fat you protect yourself from mocking by forever wearing a tent. Curves are nice, but how they are presented really matters. A blanket of snow, with your attire can hide many things. If they are just out there then they are not appealing. TART is the word, conceal or reveal, this is the eternal balance. A bloke with his Bee Gee look, may work in a Gay Bar, but to attract a lady, hide it, don’t dangle too much. Class is so much more, than tight jeans and shuttlecocks, ask George Michael.
Words do matter, clothes do maketh the man, but if he looks so right, but when he opens his mouth all he can talk of is himself, leave him the use by sell by date dustbin. She may look great, but if she opens her mouth and smells of smoke, leave her by the artichokes, and the magazine rack at the back. So we chose words to explain ourselves, but if words are not your thing, just being with him or her is enough. You just feel glad her or she is around. Some use lots of words but actually say nothing. A word can mean so much, especially when your mum died, he said nothing, but her was always there bringing in the washing for me, helping with the kids, getting me to smile. His rubbish jokes, but without him, just how would I have coped.
And on it goes, words to protect ourselves, or words to defend, or even works to save us. You were gonna be mugged but he threw a kindle full of Michael Casey’s 20 books at them, they picked it u and ran away. At last Michael Casey your words were of some use, Fat Silver Haired Writer in Shades from Birmingham saved a lady from a mugging. Police arrested 3 men quoting Casey non stop, E and Casey don’t mix, it gave the game the away.
So that’s your lot for today, it’s time to put the Christmas tree away for another year. I did an online Life Expectancy thing in the middle of the night. Because I’d be classed as a non smoker and a non drinker even though in poorish health, at 5feet 10 and 127 kilos I would still live till 88 which is 5 years better than most. 25 more years, though it did not ask about nature of illnesses. And my guess was far far less. So if it is right, should I have 4 more kids and start a Kpop band. Though from what you’ve heard would you be interested, women, not men that is.
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