Donald Trump STOP BEING A FOOL

Posted bymichaelgcasey19/05/2020Posted inUncategorizedEditDonald Trump STOP BEING A FOOL

Donald Trump STOP BEING A FOOL

TAKING MEDICATION THAT YOU DO NOT NEED WILL KILL YOU

Breaking your own Government’s rules

Will kill you

Do you want Barron to lose his dad, at his age?

Stop being selfish, for once in your life

Don’t lead by bad example

10,000s could be as stupid as you and  DIE

with heart problems because they follow your bad example

I speak as somebody who has had a quadruple heart bypass

and has other things that hobble my life

Stop setting a BAD EXAMPLE that could make other kids orphans

or do you have shares in the company?

is money worth more than health to you?

Arabic Altogether NowALL for KoreaKOREAN Quick StoriesWydanie polskie Still Alive 2015Wydanie polskie Still Alive 2015 – Copywin Wiersze dla wszystkichVietnamese Translation The Butcher The Baker and The UndertakerTURKISH tRANSLATION OF bbuThe Polish TranslationsThe Polish Translationsspanish-bbuSpanish BBUportuguese-bbu2019abcportuguese-bbu2019abcportuguese-bbu2019PORTUGUESE BBU2019polish Guardian AngelPolish Edition of Still Alive 2015Michael Casey The Polish Translationschinese translation BBUchina-bbu-converted-1China BBU-convertedChina BBUbengali-translation-of-bbuBengali Translation of BBUbbu-russian-translation-microsoft-wordbbu-italian (2)bbu-in-arabicbbu-germanBBU UrduBBU Russian Translation microsoft wordBBU ITALIANBBU IndonesianBBU in KOREANBBU in Indian HindiBBU in HebrewBBU in HebrewBBU in ArabicBBU in Indian HindipersianBBUPORTUGUESE BBU2019В поисках индийской принцессыWydanie polskie Still Alive 2015win Wiersze dla wszystkichThe Polish TranslationsThe Polish Translationspolish Guardian AngelPolish Edition of Still Alive 2015Michael Casey The Polish Translations페이지 1 Quick Stories KOREAN아직도 살아있는 2015ページ1 Quick Stories in Japaneseインドのプリンセスを検索するにはインドのプリンセスを検索するには – CopyЭТО МОЙ ЛИФТ ADСтраница 1shoplife spanishJapanese elevator AdvertBBU GermanBBU French50 Spanish Examples50 Spanish Examplesbbumar2008-en-zh-cn-1BBUMar2008.en.zh-CN (1)BBU in HebrewBBU in Arabic300 وBBU Russian Translation microsoft wordBBU in KOREANBBU GermanBBU French50 Spanish ExamplesKOREAN TRANSLATION Still Alive 2015The Polish TranslationsSpanish BBU아직도 살아있는 2015아직도 살아있는 2015아직도 살아있는 2015

Posted bymichaelgcasey19/05/2020Posted inUncategorizedEditDonald Trump STOP BEING A FOOL

Published by michaelgcasey

I've updated this today 28th April 2020 I'm Michael Casey from Birmingham England, the fat silver haired writer in shades. Beware of Others with the EXACT SAME NAME, they are not me, and would not want to be me ... I've done loads of writing, about 1,600,000 Words worth over 33 years now But before I started I LISTENED to BBC Radio 4 for 20 years, from the age of 10 or younger Frank Brown our lodger, went back to County Tyrone and he gifted us his Bush Radio He'd be nearly 100 now if he is still alive, so say a prayer for him 50 years in love with words, and I still look so dashing. I have a picture in the attic, just like Dorian Gray I've also had an interest in Politics for 50 years with my dad heckling the tv and Politicians I almost immediately had a hit, a play called Shoplife was accepted but not finally produced by a Theatre The Kenneth More Theatre, so thank them for sparing you all. This was back in 1989 I also had other high praise, so I ignore all the nasty negative people who use too much alliteration I also ignore those who just cannot write, making money does not mean you can tell a story Pick your own famous writer, who you avoid Today's world has much print, but a page will not refuse ink, as my dad used to say I tend to write Comedy as I'd rather make you laugh than cry I must have written over 2000 short pieces of writing, yes 2000 If you include "chats" 2600 samples, no not smelling like urine, writing samples the chats do NOT go into my books when I compile them My first book ,a full length comedy/drama is The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker You can read translations of it here on this site Up to 10 different languages/translations have been read on the same day via this site, here on Wordpress so you have no excuse, find your own language and read The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker This proves to me that the humour does travel I have readers in over 80 countries now From Nepal to American Samoa and all places North South East and West Or its just a hit man on the run, or bored Navy Seals or whatever Unknown Region Means It may also mean that only non English Speakers like my stuff I did get 21,000 readers in 3 weeks for the Polish version of In Search of an Indian Princess which is basically the final 3 chapters of The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker all by word of mouth. I also had a low budget film producer take a look at it Book Publishers have said I've made the commissioning editor laugh Radio People say they like my style So close but no cigar is the story of my life, so all you power people, do something useful HELP ME REACH FOR THE SKY from my position in the gutter looking at the stars As for my life, I was a computer operator for a market research company into alcohol sales I also was a concierge and 10 other roles at Crowne Plaza NEC Birmingham I even hid a copy of my comic novel "BBU" in the Law Library at Pinsent Masons, well just for a day and I was an Esol English teacher in an Islamic school, I knew I could teach I got Excellent, Excellent and Exemplary on the external assessment beside I've had a Shanghai connection for 20 years now, including 2 bilingual daughters and being a hausfrau a long time too, I'm a great dad, as I've had lots of time with my daughters I can always make somebody talk or laugh, I am an 18 stone George Clooney look alike Laugh or Die so to speak I believe my short stories could be used to teach English, just package them up correctly or App them What else, I was brawn and brains, I used to be as strong as an Ox, now I just smell like one We have a cat called Totoro, my daughters wanted a pet I said they could have a dog if I died , or a cat if I had a heart attack. A few weeks after that in Jan 2015 I had an Unplanned Quadruple Heart Bypass , it was supposed to be a triple but it ended up a Quadruple, 33% extra free so to speak. With an add on Hernia pushing through my bypass scar, it hurts when I laugh, so don't make me laugh I also have arthritis and other hindrances that hobble my body and give me pain galore. But my mind is free, though having read my stories you may wish I didn't bother But I'll ignore you, and carry on regardless. I do get heckled by my own Tinnitus these past 2 years+, so I have music on all night long to drown it out. I sleep with Miley, Taylor, Eric Clapton and Will Young, maybe I should buy a bigger bed, or just get a better mattress. That's the end of the tidy version of my life, if you want more come and buy me a Stella Artois and all will be revealed. Though 12 pints a year is my ration. To finish here's the list of my 19 books, so far:- 1.The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker 2.Shoplife 3.Essays and Plays 4.Blogs 2011 5.300 and Not OUT 6.Shorts 2013 7.More Shorts 2014 8.Quick Stories 9.Still Alive 2015 10.Undiscovered Words 2016 11.Still Smiling 2017 12.Altogether Now 13.New Horizons 14.14 Up 15.15 Down 16.Sweet Sixteen 17. 17 Again 18. 18 New Views 19. The Final Cut of the 19th Hole https://www.amazon.co.uk/Michael-Casey/e/B00571G0YC to buy ebooks I'm working on 2020 Words right now, which may have the banana head on its cover when I'm ready to launch it at the end of 2020 ok, that's your lot, this reads serious, but generally I refuse to be serious, though I do heckle the news for 50 years now, it's cheaper than theatre TTFN Michael Casey p.s. my email is michaelgcasey@hotmail.com ONLY write in ENGLISH with a decent subject line, if I can use Google translate then so can you

As smart as I get

Tinnitus and Phlegm Solicitors

Tinnitus and Phlegm Solicitors ©

By

Michael Casey

Tinnitus and Phlegm were Solicitors in London, their office was 25 paces away from Morley and Scrooge, though Morley and Scrooge were nothing compared to them, they were just money lenders, but Tinnitus and Phlegm were Solicitors, they had even studied at Oxford. Tinnitus wore a tall tall hat and strode with his very long legs, so he knew that the common money lenders were exactly 25 paces away, or 40 for short people. Tinnitus was tall, so tall that the French fishmonger called him deux metres, but only behind his back, or Tinnitus would strike his back with his silver topped cane.

Phlegm, was fat and round, very round, the French fishmonger called Phlegm grosse deux metre, 2 fois 2 egale 4, so if the 2 were together then then fish monger called them les deux quatre metres.  They were a strange pair, but they liked his fish, so they were good customers. Fish is for brains was what the pair of solicitors always used to say as they carried their fish away, inside of an old piece of newspaper no doubt with a new Charles Dickens story printed on it.

The fish was cooked and eaten with a smack of the lips, the cat called Dickens ate the head as a reward for keeping the rats away. London was full of rats after all, it was 1843 and the Thames was full of boats and rats.

Now Tinnitus had wanted to be a sailor but his family were Solicitors so a solicitor was he, no sea for him. He did watch the cannon being fired, he stood close so he could smell the smoke. Only he stood too close and as well as the smoke a cannon misfired and nearly killed him, it was supposed to be seaman’s drill but it nearly killed him. And now Tinnitus had forever the noise in his ears, the sound of and explosion followed by a whoosh as a cannon ball just missed his head. The doctor could not mend his ears, but as the Dr, a Dr Watson was a family friend he decided to name the condition after Tinnitus. And that is how Tinnitus came into the language. Dr Watson explained it to Charles Dickens his dear friend when they were down the pub drinking ale, Sherlock the barman thought it was a great tale too, before being told to know his place and get another round in.

Phlegm really was called Phlegm, the family had come to England from the Low Countries several generations ago. Phlegm could not get used to the London smog by the river, what with the tanners and the fish smoking, so his weak chest meant he forever had phlegm and was always spitting it up into the spittoon by his desk. Though Tinnitus and Phlegm never had need to buy glue, they just used the bucket of phlegm to stick postage stamps on, or to stick posters on walls advertising their Solicitors services. They were ahead of their time as far as recycling was concerned, Waste not Want not.

One of their best customers was a Mr Pickwick, he was so very rich, he had folding money, so much folding money, coins were for criminals he often joked. Mr Pickwick was a Paper man, though he could be a Tiger the ladies said. In fact Mr Pickwick owned high class Whore Houses, his first was called the Nevada club, because he had travelled the world and liked Nevada so much. He was forever buying houses, the kind only whores and the poor would live in, but he had to squirrel his money away someplace. And Slum dwellings brought in a steady income, though he did buy a fancy house for himself, off Sloan Square, and other places for his high-class whore business. The Rich and Gentry could not be expected to visit bad areas after all, their whoring must be done in high class areas, they had their reputations to keep after all.

So, Mr Pickwick visited Tinnitus and Phlegm so they could handle all his paper work, and even more eagerly handle his large white paper five-pound notes. Then with Tinnitus saying it’s just 25 paces away Mr Pickwick would go to Morley and Scrooge to get them to arrange the rental of his slums, a perfect business operation. Sally one of the local whores used to bump into Mr Pickwick, but he’d just bowl her over, she was no lady. He only had Fallen Ladies work in his high class whore house, because they could talk proper, and were good in the bedroom department too. So Sally was bowled over into the mud, and horse pooh, she nearly was killed one day, but Bill Sykes saved her, but that’s another story or two.

London in the 1840s was a different place than it is today, but for Tinnitus and Phlegm it was good very good even, they even got invited to Nevada, Solicitors finding nirvana in Nevada, a high class whore house. Obviously, Morley and Scrooge were never invited, they were just money lenders and lower class people, not high class solicitors, so no invites for them. Tinnitus and Phlegm enjoyed life and all of Mr Pickwick’s business, so much so that on occasion they would offer a drink to keep the cold out. It was French cognac, the fishmonger had a bottle and Tinnitus enquired what it was, so when he tasted it he enticed the fishmonger to get him a few bottles. Hence French cognac for Mr Pickwick.

And it was because of the cognac and Dickens the cat that Mr Pickwick died. You see he had a drop too much as it was such a cold day, that he slipped on a stray fish head that Dickens the cat had left lying about, he banged his head on the cast iron stove and that was that. It would have been ruin for Tinnitus and Phlegm, so they had to think who to blame for the sudden death, and Dickens the cat couldn’t tell a tale, and take the blame.

They thought long and hard then they remember Jacques the fishmonger and Jill his wife. He’d said they were going back to France forever to look after his mother in Yvetot, so an idea was hatched. Mr Pickwick was stripped and placed in a trunk, with a few fish heads too. Then the trunk was taken to Jacques’ fishing boat, Tinnitus said he always wanted to be a sailor, and it was the truth. But now everything he had saved for being a sailor, books and so forth he was going to symbolically throw away at sea. Jacques thought he really was a stupid Englishman, they really were A Nation of Shopkeepers, or butcher baker undertaker. But for a gold sovereign he’d let him act his play out, who did he think he was Shakespeare, to be Candide. So, Jacques let Tinnitus throw the trunk overboard into the English Channel, all the time he hid his face up his sleeve, or la Manche as the French say, the fish in the trunk stunk after all.  

Tinnitus had got away with murder, or accidental death due to slipping on a cat’s fish head. When he got back to the office, Tinnitus used his left hand to forge Mr Pickwick’s signature. He inherited everything. Thus Tinnitus became a big noise in the entertainment business, the British are Phlegmatic after all.

  

Matt Damon in Ireland and Spanish Tapas bar in Barcelona

Matt Damon in Ireland  and Spanish Tapas bar in Barcelona

last night Spain suddenly feel in love with my site

So who was it?

maybe that Spanish Tapas bar in Barcelona started to read me

after I mentioned them in a piece

They may be regretting what they read overnight

Or they may decide to drown me in the fountain at the top of Las Ramblas

It was there in 1999, or it could have been redeveloped

Matt Damon is enjoyed being Locked  up in Dublin Eire

he says it was a fairy tale

If he reads The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker

set in Old Forge and Singing Anvil written by a son of a Kerry Blacksmith

then he may have a project to play with when Lockdown ends

a film producer did take a look back in 2013

Since then it's been read all over the world in many languages

via my Wordpress

So Matt have a read it's only 600 pages

Or you could just clean more floors as you scribble equations on walls

I of course am a master toilet cleaner as I worked in a hotel for 3 years

CPNEC Birmingham, and it was one of 10 or my roles

Would I get an Oscar for that?

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Michael-Casey/e/B00571G0YC/ref=dp_byline_cont_ebooks_1 

Michael Casey

p.s. there are also 2000 short stories on my sites, perfect punishment for bad kids, though I don't know your family's ages

Dinner is Served

Dinner is Served ©

By Michael Casey

Everybody is a baker during Lockdown, it’s on the telly or BBC Bitesize, so my girls tried to poison me the other day, and today they are trying again. Euthanize a parent for beginners or what was the name of the Alistair Sim film, where all the relatives are killed off in order to inherit. Go Google then go watch the film, leave your parents alone, don’t be tempted, they don’t have any money anyway.

The other day my small daughter tried her hand at baking, but her efforts were fell flat, because she did not put enough baking power in, or it wasn’t self- raising flour. Or some other excuse, as she and her bigger sister bickered. I just left them to it and retreated to the study, or the front room if I’m not being pretentious. It’s the nice room, the clean room where sticky fingers are not allowed, you’ve seen the photo, though 95% of my photos are from the old house.

Today I decided to try my hand at cooking for them, chicken goujons, straight from a packet, we had to eat them today because the use by date was up. Food choices by use by date, all so very sophisticated, just like in the very best transport cafes. I cooked them to perfection, or till my big daughter said she wanted the oven, so we ate them. We had them with wraps, no not some guy singing and banging on the table tops, but with wraps with a W. We had to finish the wraps as somebody nameless did not wrap the wraps, so the edges were stale or hard. Or just the one I selflessly ate. However, both my daughters proclaimed me a chef, though they could just be lying to humour me, till the small print of the insurance policy comes into force.

I retreated triumphant to the study while big daughter dripped her mix into a baking tray. Which could be a metaphor for what Amicci used to do with his mixers, or was that a different kind of mixers? Then a roar rose up from the kitchen, my big daughter’s cake mix had raised up. She told me as I came into the kitchen looking for a banana, I do eat them not just actually pose with them on my head, it’s in a photo if you search my sites. I couldn’t find any bananas as she had crushed them to make banana cake, she did though leave a trail of banana skins on the kitchen floor. The accidental death bit of the insurance policy had been most revealing. But I left no skid marks, at least with bananas, though Totoro our cat did come racing in and slip and slide like a figure skater. Totoro loved it, she is a Ninja cat after all, I just smiled and wondered had my girls seen The Adams Family Values too often.

I then returned to the kitchen to help small daughter with a new screen protector, managing to get stickers stuck all over me, and finally a cracked screen slapped on my forehead. It’ll protect you dad, no doubt if I did fall over on any stray banana skins. Otherwise her phone was now protected, but what about old dad? The cakes came out of the oven, banana cake was like bananas, though now the raised cakes had lowered. I said sagely they must have opened the oven door too often, to admire their handywork. Let things rise, and don’t touch till the crust is brown. I did watch my own old mum make fairy cake when I was a child after all.  

So, sampling a fairy cake I made my way back to the study. Though I did trip over Totoro our cat spread like a centre fold on the living room rug, exposing her 6 nipples. Luckily, I landed on the settee, or I would not be talking to you right now. Home baking is a very dangerous thing, so be careful out there as they used to say in Hill Street Blues, I wonder can I find that on tv somewhere?

Bitching Obama and Me

Bitching Obama and Me

I don't know about you but I think Obama agrees with me

USA  has become a meaner spiteful place under Trump

Not to mention plain Corrupt

And Obama's lady was right, folks just did not bother to get off the couch

It was worse than a slap in the face

What everybody needs is a kick up the bottom

Get off the couch

Today 10th May 2020 , I can still see Trump winning

Because people just could not be bothered to fight for their rights

Biden should stand outside his house, and grab the headlines daily

Just as the Mooch said in an interview

Get out of your Bunker Joe

You are the Underdog so fight like one

Have a new speech every week

If SNL can do it, why cannot you

Over here in UK, too many cooks spoil the broth

People may need to work shifts for a time

Just to get the economy moving

I worked 24/7 when I was 20 and did 14 years worth

and the rest of the time I mainly did 12 to 8pm

So if needed people should be flexible for a period

I was all my working life, then I became an unpaid housewife

But I got to see my children grow up so I'm happy

Then I've had my Health abandon me

But at least while at home I can write more

So less Bitching and more doing

And less  Press filling pages with Statistical Gymnastics

People are dead and dying

Each nation faces challenges

BUT without world unity and total inoculation

This plague called Covid 19 will return

New, Really New

New, Really New ©

By Michael Casey

In game shows you can Take the Money or Open the Box, Michael Miles and Monika Rose may spring to mind if you are even older than me. If you Google you’ll discover sad facts about them, so the memory I’ve had for over 50 years has a cloud over it now. But I won’t dwell on it, nobody should dwell on sad things, that’s why we all like New things.

In advertising New is the buzz word, and game shows and sagas were introduced to sell Soap, washing powders in USA. The Soaps sponsored shows. You can Google away with that for yourself. You may even have a degree in the subject, Marketing as it is called nowadays. If money is involved everybody wants the biggest share of the market after all. Which brings me to, New, what is New? Brand New, is better than just New, how about New and Improved, and with added Value for Money. Is it real, or just some idiot with a half a dictionary?

Marketing folks are trying to grab our attention, so words are showered on products, especially stuff you use in the shower. We all want to look nice and smell nice, well girls do anyway. Hence the shower of buzz words to promote use of products used in the bathroom. This will leave your hair soft and shiny and with added bounce. We all believe it and try the product, though personally I use carbolic soap on my head and lower down my body, and I still have great soft thick silvery hair. Don’t you hate me girls? It’s all in the carbolics after all, or genes if you did biology.

And on it goes in an effort to gain a bit more market share, it is a billion pound industry after all. That’s why I’m on posters everywhere, advertising my carbolics, or rather carbolic soaps. So, YOU too can have such really great hair. Advertising is a very deal, it used to be on hoardings, I once applied for a job to do with hoardings, checking that posters were up in the right place at the right time. Yes really. See what a many splendored life I’ve had, or nearly had, as I didn’t get that job. Nowadays there are niche adverts, as you wouldn’t sell ham to Muslims or Jews, so you target what a specific audience might want, so you decide who might want what you have to sell and spend your budget appropriately. The student market drinks more, has more sex and uses more technology, or so they think. So, adverts on posters near universities are for STD clinics and bars, and flash new phones. And if you weren’t using flash photography while drunk making that “advertising” video with your girlfriends then you wouldn’t need the STD clinic, but at least there is a map on the poster.

When you graduate, or rather when you discover just how much that piece of paper called a Degree cost you, then you may decide it was a waste of your time and money. Especially as everything was Online, and you could have stayed home with your nagging mom and dad, but cut your debt in half, for the same piece of paper. But you really wanted to live it up in squalid housing with dodgy people and their new diseases, at the other end of the country, just to prove how independent you really are. Besides you are a grown up now and can comb  your own hair, and wipe your own bottom, with cheap toilet paper that your finger always goes through.

Which means you need a new suit, so you flick through the mags in the barbers, as you need a new haircut for your first interview. The barber asks what kind of cut you want, you say you have an interview. So, he gives you a short back and sides, or the same haircut Michael Casey has been having for 50 years. You look at the barber with a mixture or hate, you’d punch him, but he’s even fatter than Michael Casey, so you smile a pained smile and say “thanks”. The barber looks at his palm, you didn’t tip him, though you did want to leave him at a tip, him and his clippers.

You have torn a page from his magazine, the picture of the suit that’ll be perfect for you is displayed, worn by a male model, with a decent haircut. Accidentally on purpose slamming the door, that’s taped as the glass in it is already cracked, you leave, with “mind the door” ringing in your ears. Up the road is Steers the old suit shop, only they don’t have the suit in the stolen picture from the barbers. Though the assistant does have the same haircut and he says “nice haircut” as you arrive. Time is short, it’s a Saturday afternoon and the interview is first thing on Monday, you are cornered, so you take whatever fits, or almost fits. But the price is right, so come on down. And the trousers do, as they are both too long and too big, but the assistant has a nice brand new fake leather belt. So you have to buy a belt, and reject the offer of braces as  you just detest braces.

So scalped, and wearing a clown’s trousers you arrive at the Estate Agents for your interview. At least your marketing degree will be useful there, and there is a ubiquitous large chested girl working on reception, she might get lucky, as you preen your scalped head. Only nothing is as it seems. You are invited into a small back office, a man in a track suit is there, with a fat girl also in a track suit besides him, and yes she is wearing braces, and any kind of haircut would be better than her hair is right now. A 2^nd man arrives, all suited and booted, he IS an estate agent, you look hopefully at him. It’s ok, Don and Debbie will be interviewing you, I’m just doing them a favour, the use of an office.  

Don owns 7 chip shops and 6 pizza parlours and 4 nail bars, nail bars were Debbie’s idea for diversification. Obviously with a growing property portfolio, NEW NEW Estate agents were happy to lend an office. So, the job is all about food and nails, never mix them together joked Debbie. You’ll get food for life from any eatery we own, and we are expanding all the time, and I’ll sort out all your beauty needs said Debbie looking with disgust at your bitten nails. Never bite your nails, it’s the very first thing people spot, when they shake hands. And there will be company transport provided too. The pay’s alright, but you do well and we all do well. And if you strike gold, you can marry Debbie, jokes Don. You almost faint, the room spins around, but you do notice Debbie’s eye’s look down for a second, there is sadness there.

You take the job and start the very next day, Debbie has tidied her hair and put red lipstick on, but she still is wearing a fat loose track suit, and the dreaded braces. Well you job is marketing and we’ll be working closely together, but first allow me. With that she grabs your hand and applies DO NOT BITE on all your fingers, it’s disgusting, you will never bite your nails ever again. Her grip is very strong, yet her hands are ever so soft. Then she grabs your other hand and does that one too. Now, that’s better, let’s find the company transport. It turns out to be a Tandem, a retired one from the Olympics, state of the art, they bought it on Ebay.

How do you think we deliver the leaflets? So you are to cycle behind a fat  creature and deliver leaflets. It’s better than jogging everywhere, but you have a degree in Marketing. You’ll be sat around her fat arse all day. You close your eyes, and she begins to strip off. She is wearing a fat suit under the track suit, it’s a NEW way of toning and losing weight, underneath she is a very pretty woman, beyond lust.  And she says her braces are coming off next week. So now you have to endure her sat on the front seat of a tandem, you cannot avert your eyes, just her wonder thighs and more. It’s a relief to jump off and sprint up and down streets delivering, buy one get one half price pizza, with a coupon for 10% off the nail bar for your own adorable fat, pizza fat girlfriends.

And that is how you met your future wife, Don wasn’t joking, he wanted her to be happy as his veins clogged from all the fast food. Debbie wasn’t stupid, and her own chest was even bigger than the girl from the estate agent’s, she was all curves, and she has not one but two degrees. She was tempted to do a Phd, then she’s be a Doctor of Chips Pizza and Nails. You found all this out as you cycled behind her, well watching her behind.

It wasn’t easy, she made you learn all about nails too, she even made you take a nail technicians course. Then you had to learn how to make fish and chips and pizza too. She was a very hard task master, you had to be as good as her dad , and as good as her too, and only then were you good enough. By which time  your leg muscles were rock solid from all the tandem riding.

Now what has this all got to do with new? Well nothing really, sometimes as good as new is good enough. Or with a new hair cut you are as good as new, even while wearing a clown suit. The thing that you need to improve the most is yourself, once you do that anything is possible. And Debbie insisted on the impossible, you had to have your nails done in every room of every shop of her dad’s empire in the space of one month. And by having your nails done, Debbie didn’t mean have your nails done, she meant have your nails done. Or perhaps you need 2 degrees and her newly won PhD, to explain it, as she paints your nails.