Well I threatened to write this, so here it is. As you all know Covid19 is annoying us all, young Covid needs a slap, and he’s getting one right now as I speak, thanks to NHS and labs the world over. So what about me? I need a slap and tickle, just the slap, you are all so cruel. I’ll have you know Colombia is reading me today, they think I’m Joan Wilder, or is it Michael Douglas, the local double glazing fitter? I did post a photo with a banana on my head, but if you don’t expand the photo you don’t see the banana. Can’t see the banana for the head, and my toilet should be flushed down the head for all you sailors out there, the navy is no lark after all.

Still with me, remember I am the bastard, you know that already, what I meant to say before you rudely interrupted me was that, I am the bastard love child of Joyce Grenfell and Ronnie Corbet so does that make my writing style so Gerald, not Duncan and Sandy kind of Gerald, but Gerald Wiley. It’s a form of indulgence, not Papal Indulgence, it is Lent after all, Francis does like Cadbury’s cream eggs so I’m told, all so very Easter. I get all my gossip when I go to Confession, it’s the best place for news why do you think old mothers go so often. Not unless they get a pint of Guinness from the priest while they are in there.

But this is but the prologue, Ian Dale gets a quid a word, so 278 quid so far if I were him, no wonder he waffles on, but I like waffles, but only potato waffles, I tried the other and they were too sweet and set fire to the toaster. So what has all this got to do with Shakespeare, and I was called his agent by an Open University tutor I’ll have you know, then the next year my play Shoplife was accepted for the stage, so I am like Shakespeare. Though he was produced and was I not, I think they did Rocky Horror show instead, 30 years ago. But that could be an excuse.

Which brings me too Shouting Shakespeare, finally I hear you all groan, any more cheek and I’ll come and knock on your door. But sadly I cannot I am in Isolation for 3 months, me and my broken heart and assorted ailments. I heard you all look to the Heavens and say thank you God, and that was just the non believers. So we are all in this together, Cameron should have trade marked that phrase he’d be even richer now, he’d have so many caravans he could open a caravan park, for writers who cannot write, no I don’t mean me. The cheek, I don’t sit here talking to you to get abuse, I get enough from the neighbours already, well when I Shouted Shakespeare that is.

So a stray word gave me the idea, Shouting Shakespeare. It was and is so quiet here on our hill, so I thought I’d cheer the neighbours up, as I normally do with the folks in my local shop. But as I’m staying in, the Government insists, is it just me, what have I done to upset Boris. I’ll ask him if ever I meet him. Anyway so I thought the Bard, that’s what they need. So I went to the bottom of our garden and started to quote, though the neighbours prefer I choke.

To Be or not to Be, measure for measure, a stitch in time saves nine, and on I spoke, just trying to get their attention. Then I thought I’d put a silly voice on, my Topol impersonation voice. They seemed to like that, but it gave me a sore throat after 2 hours. Shouting Shakespeare in a silly voice does hurt. As it grew dark the nude sunbathers decided to go back inside, so they all wanted me to shut it, so very Frankie Howard of them. But I persisted, Shakespeare should be heard, I know it sounds absurd, but you must, you can, and you will, Will Shakespeare that is, or was it Kenneth Corner practising his chat up line in an old Carry On film.

Then the neighbours started throwing things at me, tins of beans because they thought I was just an old fart. Then one card threw a toilet roll, to go with the beans. I was so affronted, and with the size of my behind, I can be very affronted, but that’s just at the back. They even threw stale rolls, but I’ve seen Heide so I knew I could toast them and they’d be ok. Now is the Winter of our discontent made glorious, I continued to shout. They would have beaten the c(*& out of me, luckily I had plenty of toilet paper now. Only the social distancing meant all they could do was throw things at me, even the kids threw things at me. Luckily I have a sweet tooth, and gelly babies don’t hurt when they hit you.

Finally as I looked at the debris surrounding me I realised I had enough for my dinner, and I could wipe the plate afterwards with bread rolls, and as for my behind, my audience had also provided paper for my behind. So I don’t get a pound a word like Ian Dale on the radio, but I’ve nearly reached 1000 words now, just by Shouting Shakespeare, so perhaps I’ll send it to him. Though I doubt the radio would pay me for it, maybe I’ll send it to Isabel Oakshot if I got her name right, she has better hair than him. Though she’ll just think I’m a nanna, I do have a banana on my head after all, some card put superglue on it when they threw it. Expand the photo to get the full picture, like reading newspapers, it’s dying art, I am an old fart.

Tuesday, 24 March 2020

Reintroducing Lech Boris and Gregorgi

Reintroducing Lech, Boris and Gregorgi

the boys are my friends, they come around to check I'm ok every now and then,
they claim it's just to see am I treating Totoro my cat ok, but who am I to argue?

The boys come from Popaloffoff where Russia/Ukraine and Poland make love on the map, what you dispute this? Are you Theresa May with her degree from Oxford in Geography?

Maybe she'll help my small daughter who hopes to do Geography A level once Covid is given a slap and sent packing, there's an opportunity for you Mrs May. Or didn't you like the story I put you in, as an Abba tribute singer, well kind of.

I thought it was so quiet that I could shout Shakespeare to my neighbours, but they are all indoors, probably watching Disney+ that launched today, though some tvs still haven't got the app, so Disney will no doubt sort that as they could the billions rolling in. But then I realised Shouted Shakespeare will be my next story, yes it's as simple as that, a stray word and you get 1000pages written. God help you I can hear you all say, I'll write it later, if i can get Disney+ to work on my tv. Then again, I do have the Bear Necessities already, what do you expect Shakespeare, I'll Shout at you later.

Ok, the Philippines are reading me lately so thanks to them, and thank you for sending all your nurses to help here in UK too.

now here's the boys

By Michael Casey

Now it’s hard when building work goes on and there is dust everywhere, when there is cursing galore, and that is just from mom and dad. Builders blush when they overhear such language, but building is a blessed thing, blessed with plenty of cursing. Anastasia was visiting family in the village, when she had a phone call from her granddad, the builders had let him down, now all he had was dust everywhere. This made her own problem small beer, she had bought a brand new car for herself as a graduation present, but it broke down repeatedly. The dealership just laughed at her and called her little Russian Princess. Now as Lech’s, Boris’s and Gregorgi’s wives chopped meat their blood boiled.

Anastasia’s granddad was Denis Nellis, he was very very old now, but when he was very very young he was a sailor on the Arctic Convoy to Russia, after the war he married the sister of a Polish Battle of Britain pilot. So he was a man of great bravery, who should be honored and as he had a connection to the village through marriage he was FAMILY. The boys’ wives sharpened their knives, but Anastasia said the Pen is Mightier than the sword, and far far sharper, with a wicked smile. The boys’ wives agree as they did some target practice on the back of the kitchen door.

But where were the boys, where were Lech, Boris and Gregorgi? The Summer of 2018 was so terrible hot, some like it hot, as they say, but Gregorgi had a friend who owned a former Russian nuclear submarine, he had bought it in an army or navy surplus sale. He ran trips to the North, the far North, ½ way to the North Pole. Ice Station Zebra and all that. Some of the crew had gone sick, so Gregorgi had persuaded Lech and Boris to come and have an adventure, or were they little girls? So the three of them found themselves on an ice shelf playing football. The new or rather ex Soviet winter warmer clothes were being sold to the tourists as Lech, Boris and Gregorgi larked about on the ice. The pay was very good after all, and it was in US dollars, perfect, what more did they want.

Their wives could bear it no longer, they dug out the old SW set and setting it to the emergency frequency they sent a message to the North Pole. Come home the dinner is getting cold, family matter to attend to. That was all it said, signed 3 wives. Now the American’s went mad trying to work out what it meant. The Russian’s wanted to know what it meant too. Only the British knew what it really meant. You see Anastasia had a secret, she had just signed on to work for GCHQ, so she had told them about her holiday plans, and having Denis Nellis as a relative had swung the interview for her, that and having a Double First from Downing Cambridge. Or the University of Monty Python as some card in recruitment called it, you see Downing was where John Cleese went, and Michael Winner and this writer’s brother.

Lech, Boris and Gregorgi worried for a full minute, before finishing off the submarine’s supply of vodka, their wives could look after themselves, they knew how to use knives and riffles. So as the icicles melted from them they enjoyed their vodka, the trip had been a success and they’d been invited to join the regular crew roster.

When they got home to the village their wives feed them well and took them to bed. They had to make sure everything still worked after the cold of the North Pole. In the morning their wife’s gave them the Eastern look, they explained about Denis Nellis and Anastasia. Then Anastasia explained about the builder saying her grandad would have to face facts and surrender to reality. The car company has said the same, just surrender to life. Now Gregorgi started to twitch, you never say Surrender to a Russian, after what those Nazi bastards did. Lech and Boris weren’t happy either, this was Family. The Scots never say surrender too, go ask the Black Watch if you don’t believe me.

There was just enough time to finish all the food their wives had prepared while they were at the North Pole, then they made love to their wives 10 more times, before they were ready to hit the road. At David Nellis’s house it was like the Nazi bastards had shelled it. Lech, Boris and Gregorgi set to work. The bathroom extension with downstairs bedroom would soon be sorted. The boys worked like slaves, worse than slaves, they worked like men from the East, they worked like family. If you married into the East, then you were part of the East. They only stopped for 5 mins just to send me an email asking that I looked after Still 17 in Warley Woods, it would be reaching perfection too, by pure, 95% pure, coincidence they would be in England to taste it.

When the dust settled Dennis Nellis had his bathroom and new bedroom downstairs. Gregorgi shed a tear, and for once his cousins did not mock him for crying like a little girl. This was family. I had tapped Still 17 and send the postman to deliver 10 litres, so toasting Dennis Nellis sailor from the Artic Convoys they got drunk. What else do you expect?

Now Anastasia had not been forgotten, still hung over the boys decided to go visit the car dealership. The car dealer had ignored Anastasia, even though she was so pretty, and so very very intelligent. But boys will be boys, and they had come in from the cold, and their 3 wives had asked did they want to repeat their performance, once they had sorted out Anastasia’s broken brand new car. So they went to the car show room, now they could have physically turned all the cars over like turtles. Just as Big Sid does in the finale of The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker.

However they had seen the Full Monty on Dennis Nellis’s tv the night before, so they just played the music on their Spotify on their iphones so they started to strip. The girls in the car show room giggled and live streamed it on Facebook to their friends, they stopped giggling as more and more clothes came off. Where was the nearest Polish/Ukrainian and Russian food store, these were MEN with a capital M! The car showroom owner came down to see the still drunk cousins sprawled naked over his cars, leaving marks all over the polish, that’s polish not POLISH by the way.

He tried to threaten them but this was no Spring Time for Hitler. Your Cars have one thing in common with us slurred Lech, Boris and Gregorgi, and what is that asked the car show room owner? BIG BOLLOCKS! And with that the boys left the showroom. And did Anastasia get a new car from the car dealer. No, he was going to offer, but the Police closed down his showroom after 100s of complaints, the Police even said he did not have a licence for Erotic Dancers so were able to close him down immediately. But Peter Stringfellow saw it all online and sent Anastasia a brand new car, a much better car. He did offer the boys a job as well, but they decided, The winner wives take it all, it was For Their Eyes Only.

Sunday, 22 March 2020

Somebody was reading this somewhere in the world so I've reposted it

Somebody was reading this somewhere in the world so I've reposted it

I was checking my readers out when I spotted somebody had read this, I reread it, I cannot remember all the 2000+ stories, nor the 500 chats, only stories in the books by the way. So I've just reread this and the tears are still wet on my face, lots of real events are merged into stories. Anyway tears still wet on my face, do you think this is worth a read?

Sunday, 18 February 2018

Prayer Poker

Prayer Poker ©

Michael Casey

Lent is upon us, it’s a time of penitence and prayer, and we give things up for Lent. Or so is the tradition, while all the Easter eggs are being made to be hatched on Easter Sunday. The egg symbolises the stone at the Tomb. So that’s what we learn in RE at school. What we don’t learn in school or at church or any place else is Prayer Poker.

What is Prayer Poker? Well as a child your mum teaches you pray, you learn all the prayers ready for when you go to school. But your mum has taught you them in Polish and you are in Birmingham at your local catholic school. So you have to relearn them in English, but at least this amuses the local priest.

When you are young your Faith is strong and bright, it has not been tested by real life. You enjoy the ceremony of Faith, any Faith not just Christian, whatever Faith you happen to be born into. Now a faith is like an inoculation, it protects you from bad things, by giving you a set of values, all you have to do is attend and say the prayers.

Your mother will teach and encourage you in your prayer life, while your dad is out working or down the pub, whatever kind of dad you have. It’s the women who pass on faith and language, the men don’t bother, or have an excuse not to. Yet the women are not allowed to be the priests. Yes a sweeping statement but look around you and think how accurate it is.

As for praying you learn the Rosary, and your mum tells you it is Mary’s nuclear weapon, in fact it it much much bigger than that. So you learn how to say the Rosary and going through the beads is very soothing. You feel so happy when you have learnt the 3 different kinds of Rosary, yes JPII did start a 4^th kind but how many people still know about that? Now as a child you have your Prayer martial arts skills learnt, the Rosary is like bolas to trip and bring down all evil, you are a cowboy with a Rosary as a lasso to bring down Evil.

So you pray regularly because your mum insists. She even gives you new pink plastic rosary beads at Christmas and Birthdays as presents. They are luminescent and glow in the dark. But its good your faith is strong. However like the ebbing tide Faith can fail or just almost disappear. You grow up, get a job, get your own place. So your plastic Rosary beads get forgotten or left behind in your old family home. But your mum or gran sends you a new pair for your new place, black and strong and made of wood, not childlike at all. You wake up in the middle of the night and scream, your mum has spray painted them so they glow in the night.

As you get older you try to negotiate with God, let me off from praying tonight I’ll do twice as many prayers tomorrow. You are sincere, so God won’t mind will he? Beside your girlfriend is coming over to christen that new King size bed you bought when you got your own place. And sex is more important than prayer. In the morning you regret what happened, if you prayed first things might not have turned out the way they did.

So on life goes, if I say some prayers will you help me with my exams, or please let her not be pregnant yet. Whatever you are praying for, such as a driving test exam, or another job so you don’t have to work with your now ex-girlfriend, but thank you God she wasn’t pregnant. And on it goes, you try to short change God, a Rosary becomes a quick nod to the Rosary beads. A Rosary only takes 5 minutes, or 15 if you do the set of 3, but God is not worth your time, you have to watch the boxing on tv and drink 7 pints of Stella Artois, then fall asleep in the chair.

If I say a quick Hail Mary, will you help me get through the traffic today, I have to be at CPNEC Birmingham I’m giving a Lecture on Serendipity, subtitle from Front of House to Full House on stage. And on it goes. You are playing Poker with God, as if he is fool, you speak to him less and less and Alexa and Cortana more and more. As if Alexa or Cortana really care about you.

Then you don’t even nod at the Rosary, in fact it falls on onto the floor and ends up under your bed. Life and girlfriends come and go, a silent witness under your bed. Then one day your mum rings, your dad had had a stroke. You jump in a taxi and give him double to get to the hospital fast. Why is your dad at the far end of the longest hospital corridor in Europe. You walk fast, then you start to run, you bump into a undertaker taking a body away. Her blonde hair comes falling down. Now God has raised the stakes. You say sorry and go dashing off.

Your dad will be ok, but the Rosary is running through your head, you say 10 Rosaries in 5 minutes, you are screaming in your head, save my dad. I promise to pray every day. A pretty nurse smiles and says everything will be ok, she recognises the hum of the Rosary under your breath. She is a Muslim girl and whispers Allah be merciful, as she walks away. You stay 2 hours and only then do you leave.

As you leave the blonde haired undertaker slips out of the shadows, she hands you your wallet, you had dropped in when you bumped into her. Now God is playing poker, he has upped the stakes. You thank her and she offers you a lift in the hearse, the undertakers is just around the corner from where you live.

Turns out she is very spiritual, so she drops you off saying she will pray for you and your dad. An undertaker praying for the living. You go home and look everywhere to find your Rosary beads, then and only then do you feel relieved. So the tide has turned, well for today anyway. You return to prayer and you keep on seeing the undertaker everywhere.

Gill is her name and you cash in your chips, it turns out she cannot have kids so she’ll just be an undertaker instead. A boy had dumped her and said she was just as dead as the dead because she could not have kids. So it broke her heart. But she found praying had healed her broken heart. Now she was content, so she wouldn’t let any boy ever hurt her again.

So you become friends, and you even pray that some day the right boy would come her way and accept not being able to have kids. Once back in the groove prayer is good. But sometimes Fate screams out, dominoes fall. It wasn’t planned it never was, you and the undertaker are in that King size bed, she wasn’t laying out the dead, she was making love instead. You think in your head I wish she could have a family. And she gently cries, she can read your mind.

As every mother knows a prayer will always be answered,you get what you need, not what you actually ask for. So Gill had twins. Prayer is a strange and wonderful thing. Life may be a game of Roulette but God does answer prayers if you bother to ask him. He Holds all the cards and he loads all the dice, he calls out the numbers too and then BINGO. So there you go an Easter Prayer for you all.

Thursday, 19 March 2020

There are Tears

There are Tears (c)

By

Michael Casey

There are tears as schools close early,

 but there will be laughter,

 there will be sunshine too,

there will rejoicing, 

and there will be running

 and playing in the park,

there will be kisses by the swings

, and the bell will ring again,

but for now we wait in silence,

 but do not fear.

Wednesday, 18 March 2020

Self Motivating when you could not be bothered

Michael Casey

I was going to start with a much repeated opening, “I could not think what to talk about today”, then as usual an idea formed. How do you motivate yourself. Me, I am not driven, but with a Protestant work ethic, though I’m a catholic altruist, that best describes me, though fat silver haired and wearing shades is more accurate. And yes I write too and am from Birmingham. Though a confession, I use Birmingham as nobody outside UK would know nor could pronounce where I’m really from. Ok, it’s Old Forge and Singing Anvil, and you thought it was a made up place in The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker, or am I lying to you, or just a good writer?

Confused, I hope so, bemused is the best way to have our readers, stand up writing, where you are a few paces ahead of them, just out of hitting range, or best practice self isolation range. Talking of range, free range eggs are the best, the yolk is so yellow you almost need shades as you look at them. So am I looking at a lot of eggs, hence the shades, or is the yolk on me? Roy Hudd RIP left me that joke in his will, or was it John Prescott? Non USA readers can Google those names.

Which brings me to Motivation, as you all know everywhere, in 80 countries where you stumble over me, I’ve done a ton of writing, nearly 1.6million words now spread like manure on my field of 19 books. So I don’t need to write any more, and I know some of you may be praying for me to stop, you and your friend Covid. So why should I add another story to the 2000 blocking the sewer of the Internet. Social commentary inserted without you even realising it, I do like to test you all, I can hear you reaching for that bucket of water to drench me. Oh was that a bar of soap you’ve thrown at me, I thought it was a rock, what, you left the rocks outside in the rockery next to your Gnomes. So you want me to strip naked before I continue talking to you? I’m clean I have no need to wash, if I paraphrase the Bible. But you insist.

So there I am on a doorstep, naked, a hairy bear with scars and a breast poking out through my bypass scar. All I hear is laughter inside and I can see a light, I’m being filmed and uploaded to the Internet. Self Isolation my fat behind, I’m being pranked. And that’s how I explained myself to the ice cream man as I ran still dripping and naked to the ice cream van.

You see Mr Wippy’s 99s are legendary around here, so I just had to have an ice cream and sprinkles too. I looked like that dog that does the paint advert for Dulux, Dulux I said not those personal clothing things made of plastic. You are all so deaf, DEAF. I’m having a hearing consultation over the phone in 5 minutes, yes really. So I think I may just stop now.

And the point of all this? Well there I was with no motivation and now I’ve added 600 words or so to my grand total. If I can write or talk to you off the cuff the so can YOU. The thing is to just start, turn the tap and see what comes out, something is better than nothing. If you have a tick list, or a to do list then GREAT, or if you can only muster a few words, then that’s great too. Something is better than nothing, if you only do one square on the chess board, then that’s a beginning, little by little you can do more and more. Motivation is not about climbing Mount Everest on day one,it’s about thinking, about preparing, it’s about doing.

You may have 6 kids now, but it all started looking out the window, then smiling at that girl, then waving to the girl, then inviting her in for a cup of tea. Then finally years later you are a family with 6 kids. So motivate yourself to get off the couch and do something. I’ve ended up with 19 books spread all over the Internet. But it all started writing in pencil with a scrap of paper, then pages held together with shoe laces. So motivate yourself to do something, and yes chasing a girl and having six kids, is far more fun than writing any day.

Monday, 16 March 2020

handling people

Handling People (c)
By
Michael Casey

If there is a fire you hit the alarm and you shout FIRE FIRE and get OUT
If you want to persuade you speech Gently and People on Your side
You tailor your argument so that People Listen

Its Advertising

So with Covid 19 Coronavirus the Government is trying to Persuade
That was the 5th sentence, I did not jump in
Mass Advertising and that's what it is has to appeal to the lowest common denominator

It has to reach the parts other lagers or adverts don't reach
If you want something you ask your mum and she asks your dad on your behalf
So it is with Covid 19

There are a load of common sense things, like washing hands
How many man when in a pub have a pee and never wash their hands
Then they shake hands with all their friends and share nibbles
This is bad already, but now must cease forever

Any Government must gently push and prod the Population
It's like a Strip Tease of new orders and regulations
Slowly does it
Hopefully some will be ahead of the game and do the obvious
Before being told, it's a tide of changes coming in
A Tsunami of ORDERS would be resisted

That's why governments do it the way they do
National character affects the way things are done
And if you protect the most vulnerable then they'll be safe
Staying home is safe

Yes there will be changes and some minor common sense FLEXIBILITY
But cheap shots, and bitching won't help anybody
It's not a Horror story, even if it may feel like it

Look after those you Love with Love
And help your community if you are able
There is room for everybody at this table

Friday, 27 March 2020