Tuesday, 20 May 2025

This is me today, in dire need of a shave, maybe a Brazilian and my face and back too 20 May 2025

sat at my desk in the study 20525 20th May 2025 as we say in UK, Birmingham England

If you want a poser in a suit and tie, go join the GOP

All dressed up and full of empty promises

Thanks to Hong Kong and Vietnam for a spurt of reading this week

and yes Pray everybody all around the world, Putin can still be beaten

be Gorillas with Rosaries like me

and if you like the. surreal, all of you in 171 Nations can nominate me

for the Nobel Prize for "Literature"

and I''ll buy a nice house for myself and family

cos none of you will ever do it

a choice from 2 this week

b17 on Rightmove, perfect for us.

you can come and be the cleaner

not unless Zuckerberg has a P to spend on me

Hong Kong I just checked you Overtook Vietnam in. the night

so is this a competition now

HK top

But Vietnam might decide to take back the crown tonight

HK or Vietnam who wants to feed me

DECIDE QUICK

cos I'm fat and ugly and just a mick

By the way if you ever call me that

I wont answer cos I am M I C H A E L

I once wore a dicky bow for a day to make people

use my name my Mother has given me

It's on my pants as well Saint Michael

yes I'm no saint, but I am pants maybe

M I C H A E L. C A S E Y

the fat silver haired writer (in shades) from Birmingham England

I am a SOB too, son of a blacksmith who came from Kerry in 44

I'm the 4th son too, so is that 444

and I'm dangerous too

cos I'm a gorilla with a Rosary

I shrunk the fisherman's jumper in the wash, but that's another story or 3

come to Birmingham, fill a plane or two

We have plenty hotels and air b& b is Birmingham

and draw lots for who takes me to dinner

Totoro and how hold a pussy, Michael Casey

Monday, 19 May 2025

FINISHED . Stupidity and Serendipity equals Genius (c) by Michael Casey

Stupidity and Serendipity equals Genius (c)

by Michael Casey

This thought came to me in the night

It best describes my writing

I mentioned it to my small daughter as she headed back to University

She's been back home for a week while she wrote he Dissertation

Eating us out of house and home , and using all the hot water

Well I had a break, pain descended as usual

So back to my theme

I am very eclectic as you know with catholic tastes

And catholic means wide or universal, like my backside

So I'm nosey and interested in everything

You grow up in a large family, with lodgers sharing your life

maybe 16 people and a cat and a dog at its peak

I could count them off

Mary Magdalane was a lodger, or that's what I called her

John Lennon was a lodger, not the beatle

We had one who at christmas fell over drunk and burned himself

Another died on me Literally, 46 years ago this month

yet another died on the no.11 bus on his way home from a riding holiday

He was like an uncle to me, so I still pray for his soul

He was only 60 when he died, so I've been praying for him for 45 years

He got a bargain, he was an only child, so I'm probably his last living connection

I expect him to meet me at Gates of Paradise and give me a drink

So, you can see my background

I stumbled into writing in 1987, the year after I bought a house

The old house my kids call it, this one where I'm talking to you from is

the new house

And please God before I die we get a nice new house

far far away from the views from my bedroom window

Though if you are a neighbour maybe you don't like

seeing a naked ape in the window

Anyway, as I write I'll surf an idea and that will break on the surf

in my mind, and like a pinball in a machine I ping and pong

and get ideas, it very spontaneous

I like it that way, or it would be boring for me, or just pretentious

If I smell anything pretentious I run, or stagger away from it

depending on my pain and tinnitus levels

Now I specialise in stupidity, I do have a mirror after all

But serendipity comes along

The flowers I've used recently

They looked pretty so I took snaps

Afterwards I Googled the meanings of flowers

After I had used to images

Turns out the references had deep deep symbolic meanings

For Russian people

Such as Tulips and their colours

Plus the idea that the Spirits of the Dead come back

To see the fields of Tulips in Southern Russia

After they are dead

So 1,000,000 Russian boys dead, and Tulips

Means something deep in Russia

I do have. Russian readers amongst my readers in 171 countries

These past 3 years almost daily I email Moscow

The idea is to try and influence people

So Putin is stopped

I may be just wasting my time, but I'm wasting theirs too

So less time spent on Putin's Genocide

That's the theory

Also when I write I'll stumble on words and connections

as I'm writing my piece

Its all very fast, as quick as I am able to type

20 years listening to BBC Radio4, and reading etc

BEFORE

I started to write

That's my University

3,000,000 words probably, you can go count them

though online is probably not everything

37 years writing qualified

I always say I qualified on 29 Feb 1988

when I first finished typing

The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker by Michael Casey

So I may chat to somebody and they will reveal something

And no its not the local flasher

This will be like a ripple in my pond of imagination

Then I'll use that thought

Or the the information will just sink into the soup of my brain

Then weeks or years later up it will emerge, like swamp gas

Or your granddad farting after the Sunday dinner

I've captured it, the fart and the idea

Then it will escape all over the page

And Yes I'm interested in Politics

So Today on Trump's most excellent call

He's carving up Ukraine, so he and Putin can enjoy their Love of Money

Genecide Rewarded

But I digress

It could all get so depressing, and it is

Luckily I have the Faith of a Child

I stole it, and the mother is going to brain me with the baby's bottle

Obvious Joke

For Americans, as they need everything Telegraphed

I do believe in the end Russia will be defeated

When

I don't know, God never confesses to me

It's the other way around

BUT as I have horrendous TINNITUS

I've turned that around to use it to annoy Russia

by sending emails in the night

and more importantly

I'm a Gorilla with a Rosary

Prayer works, ask any Faith Person you know

What is the Alternative?

So as well as bitching too much about all my pains

and they are many and far too real

And you, listen fatso, on the couch

You have my pains and tinnitus for a day, and you probably

would not survive

Has that shut you up?

Now, get your Rosary out and say a few laps

Yes the Rosary is my anchor

Other prayers are available

Or Class As, for all jacked up readers of my rubbish

Though I doubt I have any of those

Not unless you are in Vietnam and HK

reading me in an Opium Den

SCREAMING

just testing you all

I am impressed and very humbled that both Nations

or maybe IPs are reading me suddenly in large quantities

so If you are good catholic girls in some institution

start a Mexican Wave over the Internet

Then maybe we can together put Putin back in a cage

Genocide should never be rewarded

Sadly The Love of Money Rules

and its not Ok by me

Now Serendipity has led me to discover a good place for my smart speaker

and after my tidy up of the study, if I can pretend to be pretentious

The best place for my smart speaker is right behind me on the floor

And with that I'm saying no more

Notice rubbish rhyme, floor and no more

Call me Al is singing now as I start to switch everything off

This is as good as I can write today

Tinnitus is s curse, or literary critic maybe

and arthritis brings me no joy

So Vietnam and HK say a Prayer for this fool

Cos I'm getting weaker and Tinnitus is truly horrendous

But I do believe in Prayer

read Padre Pio and Me by Michael Casey. if you want 2 for the price of one

its online

And then come up and see me sometime

Visit Birmingham we want your money

And the Queen Camilla's Son, has reviewed Birmingham food

Come on over, and bring lots of money

You can take me to the chippy

What an offer, I bet you all screamed again.

Donald, all talk, no action . FREEZE all the MONEY everything and Putin will fall off his golden toilet

Hide the Paper from him

He has no paper to pay his army

STOP being a PAPER TIGER Donald, all talk and no trousers as they say in UK

Freeze everything and he will be up the creek without a paddle

Putin's Throne while Russians die for him

Putins throne while Russians die for him

Inbox

Michael Casey

14:19 (2 hours ago)

to univ_7, info, ir, info, ir, embassybeijing, press, press, press, info, partner, president, pr, WPS, PassionForum, Pablo, prredd.mil.ru, prcd, tvrandot-flowers, flower.sky6930, filipinochronicle, Words, webmaster, web.logist, info, ums, ums.sf, tips

Putins personal Toilet

While 1000000

Russian boys die in

Ukraine for his profit

Flush putin away

TODAY

Flowers in red square to respect the dead

While putin sits on his throne doing nothing

For anyone

piece 5301, I'm spoiling you all. Stupidity and Serendipity equals Genius (c) by Michael Casey

Stupidity and Serendipity equals Genius (c)

by Michael Casey

This thought came to me in the night

It best describes my writing

I mentioned it to my small daughter as she headed back to University

She's been back home for a week while she wrote he Dissertation

Eating us out of house and home , and using all the hot water

TO BE CONTINUED COME BACK LATER

tinnitus and lack of sleep

so i'll get more sleep and talk to you all later

I'm trying Ginger spray in my coffee to see if it helps the tinnitus

and Vietnam start that Mexican wave so many readers

and HK too

am I so hot now

the picture of me yesterday,

go now but be back soon, Michael Casey SOB, son of a Blacksmith

Angel on the back door now, as I've tidied up the study

Sunday, 18 May 2025

Faith runs deep, for Spanish Readers Everywhere

Something to Read in Spanish for 600,000,000 people

19/04/2022 ~ michaelgcasey

In return for reading my rubbish I want you all to say the Rosary for Peace in Ukraine

I want 1,000,000,000 Rosaries to surround Russia and end Putin’s War

spanishwhat-use-am-i Download

en-total-ahora-spanish-all-filec2a9-Download

spanish-bbu Download

shoplife spanish Download

50 Spanish Examples Download

Spanish BBU Download

300-y-no-fuera Download

I know that it will take the prayers from una abuelita to tip the balance and stop

Putin’s war. 1,000,000,000 Rosaries we can do it. Double or triple that

So please do it for Peace in Ukraine

Miguel, my priest who became a Bishop called me Sancho Panza long ago

maybe 50 years ago, so abuelitas do the Rosary for Peace in Ukraine

I cannot promise you’ll like my stories, but there are 1000s of them

Hasta Luego Pac en Ukraine por la virgen

Saturday, 17 May 2025

Vietnamese girls why are you reading me, is it because you like fat hairy writers from Birmingham England

well Vietnam had gone mad for reading me again, HK is behind them on the readership stakes

THANK YOU

my tinnitus has been horrendous, no proper sleep for days

now a massive headache plus arthritis in shoulder thats like carrying a car on my shoulder

here's one of my favourite stories, from my 3 cousins collection

I also did a quick tidy up of my study

and the grotto outside in the garden

took ten minutes before pain descended

Enjoy and yes pray for my health

I'll probably never meet a Vietnamese Millionairess

who wants to pamper me

well in. my dreams only

lech boris and gregorgi chase a thief

Still Faith beyond reason, one of my favourite stories

09/04/2025 ~ Leave a comment

Short stories from Birmingham readers in 171 countries so far HEAR ME READ ALOUD 207 stories written & read by me https://profile.typepad.com/michaelgcasey https://michaelgcasey.typepad.com/blog/

Thursday, 26 May 2022

well i did not get around to writing new piece maybe another day

angels last mission:love a kdrama is keeping me happy

big exams for my daughters still going on

had a prayer request at Fatima shrine so that made me cry

still emailing holy pictures to Russians if i can change one mind…

words are my only skill so I try and use them

my head fizzing from Tinnitus etc

watching farming and chef on tv

my dads farm was 60 acres and now just Morris and his wife are there

60 cows if I remember rightly

but in my dads time 10 kids and all of them had families

so I am really part of a Clan I have 40 first Cousins

i’ll leave it there for today but I’ll add a piece below from before

this is from 3 years ago, before PUTIN’s Evil came

if only those time could return

Michael Casey

Popaloffoff is the name of Lech, Boris and Gregorgi’s home village, where Poland, Ukraine and Russia make love on the map. It minds its own business and likes it when others do the same. It does not matter is it Polish or Ukrainian or even Russian territory, it’s Popaloffoff through and through. Everybody knows each other and any of the 3 languages will do. But American dollars are preferred, that is always best the world over.

The Priest in Popaloffoff is called Tolstoy, yes really, he always has a Bible story to tell, it’s up to you the reader to decide which kind of story you prefer, a Tolstoy epic from the writer, or a Bible story from Tolstoy the Priest. Tolstoy the Priest always wears rose tinted glasses, not because he poses like a Pop star, or because the Bible makes him see things differently. But for a far far tragic reason, you see Tolstoy only has one eye. There was an accident or should I say incident, Tolstoy lost his eye when he was a young man, a young priest sent to Popaloffoff to tend the sheep.

Tolstoy had and still has a fierce Faith, when the tide was turning in the War, the Nazi bastards were retreating, the people of Popaloffoff feared they would come and destroy their church, and their village. Anything to destroy the Soul of the people. Tolstoy said he’s take the Holy Icon out of the church and stand at the Pass in the mountains and pray that the Evil Nazis went away, went back from where they came from. So in the middle of Winter Tolstoy stood for 15 days holding the Holy Icon aloft. Mary Mother of Popaloffoff protect us. And so she did, Tolstoy lost two toes and 2 fingers due to frostbite, but the village was saved from the retreating evil. Tolstoy put the icon back in a leather bag and was still saying the Rosary when he heard a motorbike.

A Nazi SS man had wanted to see what was at the end of the Pass, so he had taken a motorbike and went alone to see what was what. Tolstoy spun around, you cannot pass, this town is under the protection of the Mother Mary, I have her icon here. The Nazi SS man laughed and drew his dagger. Tolstoy was tired and weak after the 15 days standing in the snow. So she has her eyes on your nothing village. YES said a defiant Tolstoy. So if she has her eyes, then you don’t need yours. Then the Nazi SS man stabbed Tolstoy in his right eye, leaving his dagger in the socket. Tolstoy screamed, his scream set off an avalanche, the Nazi was swept from the pass, only his motor bike remained. Tolstoy’s blood formed a cross in the snow, not an Iron cross, just a Holy Cross.

Tolstoy took the motorbike and rode down the mountain to the village, they were safe, the pass was blocked and the retreating Nazi bastards would not bother them. The Blacksmith in Popaloffoff removed the dagger and used a red hot horseshoe to cauterise the wound. He did make sure the horseshoe was the right way up, so the Priest could say it was good luck. And that is why Tolstoy wears rose tinted glasses, so as not to frighten people with his looks.

The Icon was returned to the village, and left in a place of honour. As for the Nazi bastard, the wolves had his body for dinner they are not picky who they dine on. So life went on in the village, minding its own business, until Tolstoy was crying from his one eye saying that the Icon was missing. This was over 70 years later, Tolstoy was still the Priest and though a bit slower, he was still loved so much. Lech, Boris and Gregorgi came running. Our icon is missing.

Now let me try to explain, an icon is not photo of your favourite footballer, or a selfie of a President and a Dictator, though it can be hard to tell which is which. An Icon is something you treasure, like a wedding ring, or memories you have of your mother. It has value thousands or millions of times greater than it’s worth. As a work of Art and Love and Prayer combined it is in fact Priceless. In fact some Icons if sold would fetch millions of dollars, and Professional Criminals use Art of a way of moving money, like Bearers Bonds.

And yes Popaloffoff’s icon was Priceless and worth many many millions, in fact when Andrew Graham Dixon, England’s greatest Art Expert happened upon Popaloffoff when he was on a hiking and food holiday with his Italian friend, he cried for 30 mins nonstop. Tolstoy had to give him a hug and Bless him. Andrew Graham Dixon was so overwhelmed, when he was allowed to examine it, he wondered about the blood stains on the back, so Tolstoy explained how he’d lost his eye and some fingers and toes years before. Andrew Graham Dixon cried even more. Then his Italian friend shared a recipe with the women of Popaloffoff, then everybody got blind drunk, if you excuse the expression.

But now, but now the Holy Icon of Polaloffoff was missing. There had been a bus of tourists, who had had visited the day before, but they were long gone. That’s if it were them, but who else could it have been? Mother Mary of Popaloffoff Speak to Me, Hear my Voice, Hear my Prayer said Tolstoy the Priest, tears still streaming from his one good eye, as he fell to his knees in the middle of the square outside their church. Bori, Lech and Gregorgi sunk to their knees besides him, soon the entire village were on their knees praying. Mother Mary of Popaloffoff was moved, Tolstoy could hear a quiet voice in his head, I am always with you. Do not cry, an Icon is nothing, compared to my love.

Tolstoy shook his head, I know, I know forgive me, but we want you back where you belong, here in Popaloffoff. Mary smiled, Tolstoy smiled, he’d bring her back if it was the last thing he did before he died. WE RIDE said Tolstoy as he got to his feet, Lech, Boris and Gregorgi wondered what he meant. They followed him, to the shed by the church. Inside was the Nazi’s motorbike, still in mint condition. There was no time to argue, Lech and Boris sat on the bike with Gregorgi and Tolstoy squeezed into the sidecar.

As they roared off they sent a text message to Andrew Graham Dixon, our Lady of Popaloffoff STOLEN. That’s all it said but they knew he would help. In fact Andrew Graham Dixon sent a message to every Art Collector he knew, nobody could attempt selling it on, and if they did Andrew Graham Dixon would know and he had friends in Interpol. This was Sacrilege, then he cried, before having his beans on toast, with lobster and a Guinness.

The trio of cousins did not know where they were going, they were just doing as their old priest told them. When they got to new main road they stopped. Left or Right? Tolstoy took off his rose tinted sunglasses and looked to the Heavens. A tiny voice in his head told him Left, so they went left. The Trio of Cousins wondered what was going on, but said nothing. On they rode, further and further away from the village.

They came across a car with a puncture, so they stopped to help. They had to be good Samaritans after all. They did not have a jack just a spare tyre, so Lech, Boris and Gregorgi lifted the car while Tolstoy helped change the tyre. A family with a baby thanked them, as they were about to go Tolstoy asked had the baby been baptised. No, was the reply, so on the spot Tolstoy baptised the baby, with Lech, Boris and Gregorgi as Godfathers. The family were deeply touched and shouted God Bless You as they rode away.

See a Blessing, said Tolstoy. But Fate and Evil always rears its ugly head, they were running out of petrol. They stopped at the side of the road, and what appeared coming from the opposite direction. A gang of Hells Angels. Tolstoy said, God is Good, as the Hells Angels approached, but he reached into his boot and brought out the dagger the SS Nazi had put in his eye. He’d kept the dagger all those years, now maybe he’s need to use it to defend himself.

The Hells Angels circled and pulled over besides them, Tolstoy took off his rose tinted sunglasses. Perhaps they’d be impressed by his scar, they were. One lady on a bike actually puked. Then the leader of the Hells Angels spoke, Hi I’m Wayne from Fort Worth, we are on a biking holiday, how can we help. They were tourists on a trip of a lifetime.

Tolstoy explained. Son of a Bitch, said the Hells Angels in Unison. Wayne texted his friend in the FBI, those bastards wouldn’t sell the icon in USA, or his name wasn’t Wayne Duke Hazzard III. So the Hells Angels said they’d ride with them part of the way. They had some extra petrol so they’d all be underway. Tolstoy asked could he ride pillion with somebody as he was a bit cramped in the sidecar with Gregorgi. So Tolstoy rode with Mary-Beth.

As they rode Tolstoy asked, did she enjoy being a Hells Angel, she replied it was a bit of fun at weekends, as they had no children. Tolstoy remarked you have the breasts for a great mother, Mary-Beth laughed but there was sadness too in her laughter. So Tolstoy silently prayed for her and all the Hells Angels. Further up the road they went their separate ways. But first Tolstoy Bless all of Them, may Our Lady of Popaloffoff protect you. He also showed them a photo of the icon.

Little did he know, little did the pretend Hells Angels know, what the future would bring. And on they rode, Tolstoy listening to the quiet voice in his head which was leading him to the Icon. It was getting dark, and they would have to stop for the night. But there was no room at the inn, a Beer Festival was taking place, so everywhere was booked out. But they were welcome to stop in the hay loft above cows in the barn.

So they did, and luckily the cows did not complain about the smell, in their leathers they’d managed to get very smelly. In the middle of the night there was a commotion, one of the cows a prize one at that was having difficulty giving birth. The Inn Keeper came out running in his night shirt. He was so worried for has Beauty, for that was the name of his cow. Lech, Boris and Gregorgi knew what to do and they must hurry. So Tolstoy gave them the Nazi’s dagger and they cut the cow out, before sewing the cow back up again. Blood everywhere, but in fact two cows were born, one in fact a bull, that’s why the mum was having difficulty. When the boys had finished the vet finally arrived. He was impressed to say the least.

The Innkeeper was delighted and in the morning made breakfast for all 4 of them, himself. Then Tolstoy said Mass in the carpark for everybody, and everybody said God Bless, and the cows in all the fields mooed in unison. Lech, Boris and Gregorgi wondered would they ever catch the Icon thief, but Tolstoy always said God was Good, and still the little voice in Tolstoys head encouraged him. In fact the voice was getting stronger, so Our Lady of Popaloffoff Icon was getting closer to them.

They continued along the road, and there was nothing but fields, fields and fields. Then they noticed a sign, Air Strip this way. They stopped the bike, in the distance was a small aircraft. Fly, Tolstoy Fly was what the old priest could hear in his head. So the floored the motorbike, went as fast as they could go. But it was too late, the light aircraft was going to take off.

But then Luck shone on them, the light aircraft turned around, it was heading towards them, it had been taxiing to the end of the strip. Now they had a chance. A chance to play chicken. Lech headed straight for the plane. The pilot thought he was mad, and so he was. You never steal from Popaloffoff, and never from a church in Popaloffoff, and Our Lady of Popaloffoff Icon belongs in only one place, Popaloffoff.

Tolstoy stood up in the sidecar and took the Nazi dagger from his boot, then he prayed, guide my hand Mary of Popaloffoff. He threw the dagger into the engine as Lech passed underneath the light aircraft. 70+ years ago the icon had saved village, now he would save the icon.

The plane stopped, and the engine caught fire, luckily they had a fire engine at the strip. Unlucky for the pilot and his 2 passengers there were Police galore hiding. All 3 bad guys were arrested. You see Andrew Graham Dixon and Wayne had both contacted Interpol and the FBI immediately. It turned out Art thieves were on a road trip, but now it was the end of the road, or rather the end of the airstrip for them.

So Tolstoy was reunited with his beloved Icon, and several more were rescued. As for the dagger, Evil had been turned to good. One of the Policemen knew of a motor bike museum, so the Nazi’s motor bike was retired too, after it had been turned from Evil to Good. Then Tolstoy and the boys were given a helicopter ride home with the icon.

Tolstoy held the Icon of Mary of Popaloffoff aloft and then sunk to his knees in praise. It was decided to put a laser alarm around the icon, the strange thing was though that Tolstoy could walk through the laser without setting it off. Our Lady of Popaloffoff knew he was a friend after all.

There was the sound of thunder, coming down the mountain when she comes, singing ai ai wippy ai ai hey, as she comes. This was 9 months+ later you see Mary-Beth did have breasts for children. She had twins, and every other biker chick had had a child too. Mary-Beth liked to ride a bike, but, well, you know. So Tolstoy baptised all the babies, and Lech, Boris and Gregorgi suddenly had even more Godchildren. They all had new leather jackets too, on the back was the image of Our Lady of Popaloffoff with the Logo “Our Lady of Popaloffoff Angels”

))))))))))a))))))))))))))))))))))))

one day Peace will reign again