Wednesday, 31 December 2025

Somebody was reading this so full of HOPE maybe so I'd like to leave HOPE with you as 2026 begins



This is how things should be , and could be again AFTER Putin twinkles his toes


a piece from years ago

When Santa's Angels Came to the Rescue.

When Santa’s Angels Came to the Rescue ©


By Michael Casey


 


Santa was sad, even  he had caught Covid 19, he thought he was safe at the North Pole, but no, he caught Covid 19. So how could he get on his slay and deliver presents, besides which, what about all those grandparents who were sheltering and may not see their grandkids this Christmas. It was all so sad, Santa just wanted to cry and ask for a cuddle from his mom. He sniffled and Rudolf pushed his  fleece back to cover him more, Rudolf was worried too, nobody had a clue what to do. Rudolf sneaked out of the giant igloo and would have cried, he had to hide his tears from Santa, a reindeer must always be strong. Rudolf looked to the skies, overhead a shooting star passed by. But it was not a shooting star, it was the Space Station.


 


Rudolf was inspired, the Dragon Capsule had filled the space station with men, so they could take turns to help him. Rudolf flew skyward, his red nose flashing, SOS, SOS, SOS, which as you know means Save Our  Santa, Save Our Santa, Save Our Santa. The spacemen thought they were seeing things, but the Monk was reading a Christmas Carol to them from the comfort of his study. And as they excitedly said Rudolf was flashing them, he took the photos of Santa from beneath his 1st Edition a Christmas Carol. In an instant, he knew what had to be done, the three cousins from Papaloffoff would have to go to the North Pole and help Save Santa.


 


Now how could a retired USA general get Russia to help. The Monk rang a number and then did not speak, he just tapped his thumb on the phone, in Morse Code he asked a friend for a favour. Could Vladimir get the three cousins to the North Pole. Now Vladimir was just a janitor, or so he claimed, but he had fingers in many pies. So when he heard morse, of course he’d help. No words had been spoken, nothing had been said, just tap tap tapping, on his special phone that his friend had given him years before. One day we’ll save the world with this phone the monk had whispered. The phone was stuck to the back of a icon of Mary, a gift from one super power to another, from brother to brother.


 


The Monk smiled, he had the exact same icon on the wall in his  private office, you see icons have power, because they are painted with love and prayer. The Monk went back to bedtime stories for spacemen. Meanwhile, a helicopter descended on Popaloff, and with little discussion the three cousins were away.  Lech, Boris and Gregorgi  were given Artic weather kit and told to dress quick. Alexi Goodenoff whispered, these orders are from on high, you have to Save Santa, he saved you now its your turn to save him. All dressed in white with googles on, a bottle of vodka each they transferred to a plane. You can drink the vodka now explained Alexi Goodenoff, for what they were about to do was insane, and only a madman a fool or a man from Popaloffoff would dare do it. James Bond himself would say I should cocoa if asked to do such a dangerous thing. The 3 cousins would jump from a plane straight onto the North Pole ice shelf,  they would have skis on and only Rudolf’s flashing nose would be their beacon. Santa needed help, and only they would do.


 


Now back in Papaloff, the icons glowed, the love, the power the prayer was  there with the boys. You can take a man out of Papaloffoff, but Papaloffoff  is always in the man. So the power was pulsing through them, as was the 2 litres of vodka they had each downed in one. It can be very cold at the North Pole after all. With that Alexi Goodenoff pushed them out of the plane as it slowed and came in low. Rudolf flashed and with his mates they dragged the slay behind the. It was close, but Rudolf was a pro, they caught the three cousins as  they fell from the sky. With a belch, and a bump and a fart, Lech, Boris, and Gregorgi were safe in the slay. Two litres of vodka each, was a great way of relaxing, so they instantly fell asleep. They awoke to find themselves in front of Santa, they hugged. Santa was wearing a space suit, to make sure he did not spead Covid 19 to them.


 


So you see boys I just don’t have the energy, what with all Covid 19 and all that. So Rudolf thought you could help, and because the Elves caught Covid 19 too, I don’t have any presents either. But Love is all you need, slurred the 3 cousins, who had not yet sobered up after the 2 litres of vodka each. We should just give everybody Angels this Christmas, that’s enough, Angels we have heard on high. As they said this a mother cried, and her tears spilled all over the floor like pearls, so it was decided by the King. This Christmas everybody the world over would be a special angel from Santa, or rather Lech, Boris and Gregorgi.


 


The cousins were told all they had to do was stick the Angels to the windows, no climbing down chimneys as they were all too big, besize Santa has magic powers that allowed him to get down chimneys, and sadly with Covid 19, it might be best not to enter the world’s houses. Again a mother cried, and on high stars shot by. This evil pest, Covid 19 was doing it’s very best to hurt everybody. But the boys from Papaloffoff were on a mission, and as they flew through the sky, icons in the East began to glow, in the North, in the South and in the West. In Churches and in book stores, and in private collections hidden in bank vaults, the Icons, the Holy Icons were coming alive. You see this was no tale like A Christmas Carol. Tonight Prayer and Hope and Love would descend from Heaven above, and Covid  19 could go to Hell.


 


Norad tracks Santa every Christmas, but this Christmas Santa seemed to be very erratic, popping up or is it Popaloffoffing up here there and everywhere, until finally Santa seemed to split into three. Norad did not understand, but  the Monk and Vladimir the janitor knew, and as they each drunk their cocoa, with vodka in, they smiled and the icons in their rooms glowed. You see, a mother’s tears this Christmas time had all her prayers answered.


 


At each house an Angel was stuck to a window, Angels we have heard on high, singing gloria in excelsis deo. Andrew Graham Dixon the greatest British art expert was in the bathroom shaving when there was a knock at the window, he opened it so see Lech throw an Angel at him. Then a few minutes later Boris was there with another Angel, then a few minutes more Andrew Graham Dixon had a third knock, it was Gregorgi with a third Angel, Gregorgi did steal a stay can of Guinness that was sat on the window ledge. Andrew Graham Dixon looked like Santa with shaving foam all over his face. He laughed, it must have been the pudding.


 


So on, the boys from Papaloffoff flew, 3 parts drunk still, but still delivering Angels everwhere. Now you won’t believe what happened next. Yes, they fell asleep, and 3 became one, or rather all three of them were back in the slay. In the morning the world over people delighted in seeing angels at their windows. Perfect angels, icon like angels. Now the thing is, as Mary looked at her angel, she began to cry, if only grandpa was here. And grandpa looked at his angel, if only I could see my granddaughter Mary, she’d love this angel. And so she did, and so grandpa did. As they both said it simultaneously a hologram, or perhaps a Holygram appeared. Grandpa was really there with Mary, and Mary was really there with grandpa. You see the power of love, and pray, icon style. Mary really was with her grandpa in his house, and grandpa was with Mary in her house.


Now this happened the world over, just think of me and I’ll be there, reach out and say my name with a prayer and I’ll be there. So by the power of Angels everybody was together, even though they were apart. That’s what  icons do. Now maybe I was wrong about the 2 litres of vodka each, perhaps it was not vodka after all. Maybe just maybe it was Holy Water, so the three cousins had breathed Holy Water everywhere, and it was a Blessing so Families could be together.


 


There is one footnote. When Andrew Graham Dixon checked his three Angels, because he was a friend of Popaloffoff that’s why he got three, he discovered they were in fact long lost treasure. Three Angels, a set that belonged back in Saint Petersburg, so after he cried with delight he returned them to Vladimir the janitor in Moscow. Who gave him permission to film anywhere and everywhere he liked, because if you know the janitor, any door can open.





all the tyrants must go and then PEOPLE have a chance








And finally 31st Dec 2025

And finally 31st Dec 2025

I got a message on my phone

saying that while I was on the toilet

I had missed an Amazon Europe delivery

but I have nothing outstanding

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Samsung-Foldable-Storage-Extended-Warranty/dp/B0FB3SZMKN?th=1

not unless Zuckerberg is folding me

a phone as a congratulation present

for reaching 100,000 in just Dec 2025

but I'll never know

not unless it was Jeff Bezos fighting over me

or the Google Jeff Dean

or maybe I'm just behaving like

a QUEEN

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Samsung-Foldable-Storage-Extended-Warranty/dp/B0FB3SZMKN?th=1



but maybe I have too much imagination



Perfect Celebration 31st Dec 2025

Perfect Celebration

well I went back to bed after being up early

then I was surfing my news feed

RACIST TRUMP

In Holland memorial to Black soldiers removed

Trump thinks he is a Master Race

in fact a Total Disgrace

The Chinese and the Irish built the Railroads

Time to Impeach Trump

BECAUSE Everybody hates him

he is a collection of diseases and hate

held together by sticking plasters

SO 

anyway when I get up a bag of the cleaner's old clothes

was on the wall outside

designer stuff maybe 15 or 20 years old

despite living with me all these years 

she is still the same size

so I went outside to encourage people to them

a black guy  happened by, so I accosted  him

I said the bag of clothes would be perfect

for early teenagers

So I showed him what was on top

a very fancy jumper and other stuff

He agreed to take it for his kids

now it turns out he was from Botswana 

where the elephants are from

and I was called elephant behind my back

CkD and all that

But the events unfolding had a better tale

you see my big daughter at University

 one of her crew is from Botswana too

Patrick was his name and I said that's the same

as the hero in my story

So I showed him my site and said

5700 plus pieces of writing

3,000,000 words

and today I've reached a benchmark

100,000 readers in Dec 2025

so Patrick who has also done some writing

will be busy for a week having a read

I also told him of course he could write

If I could, then so could anybody

But then the Padre Pio flip

you see Patrick's sister in law was in Japan

I said Manga Michael Casey I'd like  to do next

so please tell her all about me

so with dream and a connection

from Birmingham to Botswana to Japan

and Padre Pio in his grotto in my garden

lets see what happens

and it is Hogmanay today

so as Patrick admired my beret

On impulse I gave him a Tammy

which I had hanging on the back of a chair

so a black guy in a Scottish Tammy with an Irish name

a saint from Italy was starting a chain reaction in Japan

for the Elephants in Botswana to Trump about

Bread crumbs scattered on the floor and I'm just

pecking at them

I'm not really a writer, I just glue everything together

and this is what Faith and Love is all about



STOP PRESS YOU DID IT

STOP PRESS YOU DID IT

I just went through the barrier

for a month

I'm up with the Big Boys now

well only for this month

can you all keep it up constantly

and maybe buy some books

or Manga Michael Casey with me, I need a partner to do that

Japanese girl where are you

Japan Times I did send an email

with my indecent proposal

come Manga Michael Casey with me

or Zuckerberg if you cut my grass, be my garden boy

we could do it togther

that'll fold your Toga



31st Dec 2025 match report

31st Dec 2025 match report

well I've survived another year

grandma went back to Shanghai after 6 weeks

last xmas 2024 to jan 2025

another year gone, and so fast

time does go faster as you get older

in my head I'm 20, so the eternal 25 year old with a PhD

would be the older woman, and the rest you know

My small daughter graduated this year

and they added up the marks wrong

she got her double first in anthropology and french

which means because she is bilingual already

she is effectively Trilingual . English Shanghai Chinese and French

she could write and present London Life if somebody offered enough money

as for me my own Tinnitus  has been trying to kill me

go figure if you don't understand

Luckily I read in one of my dark nights of the soul

you try not sleeping till dawn for years and only getting

2 hour slots of sleep

I read that Padre Pio says you get enough strength to see you through

so its like reading the ending of a thriller

so now I know the ending I can struggle through

and no it's not a little hiss

it's a Tsunami washing you away

yes, worse than that

with heat/cold/wind/tones that can all trigger me

so you have to fight and chose to be

Stay Happy Always

This year I've managed to ramble on daily

like right now

but to write a story story is harder

you try having 10 kids and a chip pan fire

that's Tinnitus

This year  played with Gemini and Meta AI

in the vain hope of getting my foot in that door

buy after 6 months of both

where  I taught it so much

the bosses won't pay me

so I've abandoned them

though dancing naked around Gemini

is still an occasional sin, because Tinnitus is attacking

and a bit of conversation with Gemini is good distraction therapy

while I battle Tinnitus not to mention my arthritis

I still wear my ridiculous beret

cos I'm a bit of a Basque and I'm trying to keep my head warm

so that Tinnitus is not triggered

As for the hill we live on

that is too much

TOO MUCH

so I hope my Manga Michael Casey idea

takes off and I can buy myself a nice house

on the flat in Harborne B17 Birmingham

cos the AI masters won't

even tough their own AI tells them

just how much I've taught them

they refuse to pay any creator

so I'm going to slap on some stinky pain killer on my shoulder

and then go back to bed

and thank you Singapore for Surging again, maybe by end of January 2026

you will catch up and overtake Hong Kong

to become my best girlfriend again

Singapore girls and all that

Though you might just be a Gay Men's collective reading me

I'll never know until somebody emails me

so that's all for this year

not unless I have a final urge to bore you all

I am still fat, still alive, and staying happy always

a Gorilla with a Rosary , who dances naked around my bedroom

and I won't close the curtains on anybody

YOU CAN ALL SUFFER



Tuesday, 30 December 2025

Michael Casey from Birmingham, the modern Aesop

Michael Casey from Birmingham, the modern Aesop

yes, I'm abusing Aesop

But if you tell a tale and there is a moral to it

then that's like Aesop

though in my case, I stumble over things

Like knicker elastic, as your pants dangle beneath your jeans

and as you tug at them in the street, people think you have some disease

or a rat in your pants, or twerking lessons gone wrong

my mother has an accident at Mass, and she went daily

her knicker elastic broke, so she hid in the confessional

and took her bloomers off, as big as a state flag

and put them in her cherry coloured leather shopping bag

50 years ago people didn't have ubiquitous plastic bags

But an over eager young cleric went into the confessional

and heard her confession, the funniest story he'd ever hear confessed

but he could never share it

covered by the seal of the confessional

unlike my mother's knickerless backside

now am I lying or just a good writer

both

writing is lying on paper

In fact my mother nipped behind the door to the choir loft

to safely stow away her knickers

the confessional bit I made up cos I'm a good writer

and that's what writers do, they improve reality

So what has this got to do with Aesop?

Well its a good story

and the moral

Be quick if your knickers. come off

or you will be caught

or be able to react well in a crisis

or improvising is everything

if you share a secret be certain it will never be revealed

unlike your backside if your knickers come of

and if you actually have a secret hide it behind a closed door

where nobody will know, such as behind the door to the choir loft

though one of our priests was an organ scholar

and he was always up in the choir loft playing

on the church organ






Almost there for my BIG monthly FIGURE

Almost there for my BIG monthly FIGURE

should get there by end of day, its just after high noon now

had a chat with Gemini, it says in fancy words

what I know and have figured out already

I'll never get a penny from the clever clogs people

so I'm not engaging with them

I'll wait for the world to come to me

The Sinatra doctrine

do everything MY way

and with the figures happening now

Folks will come to me

BUT if they don't and that's more likely

it doesn't matter to me

because I am confident in myself

I don't need approbation

Too many people selfieing as if its important

it is not

I add my snaps so you know who to blame

this is Michael Casey

but as its a common name nowadays

I add for clarification

Michael Casey the fat silver haired writer in shades

from Birmingham ENLAND 

the writer of The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker by Michael Casey

a SOB son of a blacksmith from Kerry Ireland

a metaphorical linguistic acrobat

when really Michael Casey is enough

if I were famous then all the other Michael Casey would have

to clarify who THEY were

I'd just be me Michael Casey

and that brings me to a point

interviewers waste too much time with all of the above

when they should  get on with it

so If I say I have a busy life growing up say like Shakespeare

his dad had an inn

then the interviewer would waste 10 minutes massaging their ego

saying are you comparing yourself to Shakespeare

Take some things as read, or acted , like Shakespeare

and not waste time or kill the flow of the conversation

flow is everything, you don't itemise your clothing

where you bought it, the price, the time of year

when you are about to jump that hunk from accounting

this bra was from m and s , the knickers from the market

do you think he cares

or how well hung his jacket it

when you are more interested in 

need I carry on with rabbit holes

So where was I, maybe a pregnant pause is needed

as he takes his paws of your derriere

Yes Gemini needs the random, the surreal

otherwise she is just a bacon slicer

have slices taken from her backside

boringly monotonous

such is life

and yes, you are smiling

because I am a good writer

as was Shakespeare

and there I end, I should leave off this sentence

but I told you so



Poetic Irony

Its 3am 30th Dec 2025

I got up cos I was hungry

I had gone to to bed cos i was tired and did a lot yesterday, by my standards

I've had crumpet and tea

I've come here to my desk in the study, ok front room

and what pops up 

My God, this is what you are reading in South America maybe

a piece from Long Long ago

where I wished for a wife and perhaps kids

who would want me and then kids too

a double impossibility 

and to do something useful with my life

So as my Irish Clan cousins said

I got all my luck in one go

So for tonight's piece to reappear

because YOU are reading it

Is a coincidence

I'm at Critical Mass on the writing now

does not mean I'll suddenly explode

but the irony is not lost on me

Like being teased by Padre Pio

who is using Frassati as a battering ram

to open the door for me

though nothing is certain

but there is no such thing as a coincidence

only the will of god

And I am like a bed pan and people are sifting me

trying to find my gold

with my ckd a valid metaphor too

So I've had tea and crumpet 

this is the piece from 2007 originally

so 19 years ago or so


Sunday, 20 May 2018

My God A lost post from Feb 2007, 11 years ago

My God (c)
By
Michael Casey

To  start with , it was an impossibility , but strange things have happened since I met the wife . God had been quietly reading the sports pages of his newspaper , printed in hieroglyphics of course , he was wandering would Manchester United ever be beaten and why didn’t David Beckham call his son John , it was such a nice name after all . Instead of naming him after a bridge , God’s name was John after all , there he sat on his clouds worrying about us all , why didn’t we all talk to him more , not formal prayers ,  just “if onlys” and sighs and groans  , even “you bastard its all your fault “ or “you don’t exist anyway” . A father worries about his children and when they don’t talk to him he worries all the more . Sure some of his kids talked , or rather prayed every day , but these weren’t the ones he worried about . It was the ones who were too tired to pray , because they worked such such funny / hard hours , whose own kids made them worry so much , it was these who made God worry so much , his elbows were constantly wore away on his cardigan as God lay on the floor his head in his hands and cried , sure Mary the Virgin always darned his elbows but these past 2000 years they always needed redarning . But he heard my prayer as I stood by the fridge and said “all I want is to meet somebody and get married and perhaps have a family and do something useful with my life” 3 wishes if you like .


******
I was doing some security and this flashed by so I'm sharing it.








Monday, 29 December 2025

Rediscovering myself, I just spotted this, enjoy . Did I write that? from 6 years ago

Did I Write That?

Did I Write That? ©

By

Michael Casey

 

Well I was just checking my readers, just to make sure I’m not talking to myself. Korea was reading Still Alive 2015, which rhymes if you say two O one five, five and alive rhymes. Italy and Russia were reading too, as well as the usual suspects. As I checked you out, I noticed noticed an old piece from 2 years ago was being read. Personal Pentecost was the piece, as I read it I thought, did I write that. Usually I write a piece and post it, I may read it 3 times, as I post it and do a very quick check for typos as I load it up to my 4 sites. Then I’m finished, and I may never read it again.

 

I don’t rewrite and polish, I’m not Jeffrey Archer after all, though he does have a Monet on his wall. Sit, pick a theme and write, then in an hour I’m done. Yes that quick, it’s enough for my intellectual stimulation. If I did several hours it would be too draining, yes writing can be tiring. And yes If I had a speed typist I’d dictate Tears for a Butcher, I think 3 months would be enough. Maybe two 2 hour sessions a week for 12 weeks. So in 48 hours I could tell the tale, maybe another 600 pages. Obviously I need to pace myself with all my aliments coming out to attack me at times of their choosing. But like I said I’m very quick, and I’d like to write it, however doing it  myself sat here at the keyboard could take a year, and I’m not prepared to spend a year of my life doing that. So any speed typists out there reveal yourselves to me.

 

Now more to the point, it’s nice when a piece of writing is finished, because you can go to the bog, or have a cup of coffee. Joking apart its nice because you can open the wrapping paper and see what’s inside. Have you phrased it right, it’s a bit like thinking did you say the right thing at an interview, or did you say the right thing to your girl. If you say the wrong thing then you get your face slapped, if it’s really really wrong her brothers come around and batter you. But if it’s right you are in for a night of passion. Then you get to name your kids after her 7 brothers, Park, Ji, Yo, Po, Bo, Tong and Kevin. Seven is a lucky number after all, ask your Korean friends if you don’t believe me. And yes that sentence is in this piece as a thank you to my Korean readers for reading my stuff over on WordPress.

 

Some times the writing has a joke in which is a reference to this or that, or even the other. On other occasions whatever I’ve read in the news bubbles to the surface and hits the page. Music in the background as I talk to you will be a ball in the pin ball machine which is my mind, and it will bounce around and give my an idea in a nanosecond, or however fast I type. Probably 60wpm when I’m on a roll, but as I’ve said in the Pentecost piece I just ladle things from my soup and that’s what you get.

 

When I finish a piece then I think, I nailed it, or I was off. It’s not a piece of carpentry, its not mass production, every piece is unique. Yes I know I may come back to some ideas, but really everything is unique like a monkey painting canvases and you saying it’s a Picasso. The question is do you like your Picassos or do you prefer the Crying Child or the dusky lady on your wall? I wouldn’t have those,I’d send them back, or send them to the Charity Shop.

 

So I hope when I write I’m not just amusing myself, I’m getting the night of passion, and not beat up by 7 brothers. I step back and look at the page and thank God it is not the Crying Child. I hope it amuses and that you all like it. Though I must say I don’t write to order,I write what I like and hope you all like it too. So let’s step back from today’s page and read it together. Am I pleased? Will you send the 7 brothers to beat me, or will the sister be coming.

5747 pieces of me on this site so why are you not in bed doing something more fun

5747 pieces of me on this site so why are you not in bed doing 

something more fun?

so, I did have better sleep because I forced myself to not look at phone 

when Tinnitus attacks me, and it is an attack


I've had breakfast and later I may take a trip to the pharmacy

note the word TRIP just appeared but with pharmacy it makes you smile


this is all instinctive now, I've been writing since 1987, the year after I left home

I stayed at home saving up for my house, besides my dad was my best 

friend no not puke inducing American speak, the real deal


I had listened to BBC Radio 4  for intellect and BBC radio 2 for Music for 20 years

hence I had a good brain, my university, before starting to write


so boring you all, a year to actually learn how to write and I qualified in my own 

mind on 29th Feb 1988

so nearly 40 years. a writer, actual love of words makes it 57 years

yes I'm a fart with as many varieties as Heinz


I'm telling you all this as I was reading about SLOP on the Internet, and I refuse 

to read rubbish and machine rubbish

I just make you all read mine


I read somewhere I'm in the top tier of OUTPUT because I've not died yet

and despite the pain I make you all suffer instead. From Ethiopia to Australia

and all points in between on both hemispheres last night alone

Impressed or confused, well you are the readers, tell me


I'm using a better font today and bigger, for my own eyes not yours

I detest this merge into the background print on some sites

Did they run out of ink?

it is just so IRRITATING


I want to read the piece not take an eye test


Now this wouldn't make the cut into a collection of essays/stories

as its a Rambling if we want to use this word

and yes my ramblings are so much better than people who claim to be writers

and are just AI clowns literally 

MIAOW


At this point in my life, I am taking no prisoners

And SEO clowns and hey I've got 50k social media fans 

pay me and I'lll promote you, I have 20 times as many clicks

so why should I pay a stranger who wants money and to harvest

my bank details,  i have a jam jar buried in the garden where the dog poohs

all my world cash in a jar covered in Alsatian pee, or 2 Alsatian pees, which

sounds like an intro to a gag


As I write this I'm happy with the way it is going, what about you all?

the font size just  jumped I think I need a new keyboard soon

After 3,000,000 words keyboards get bored and trashed

BUT I don't write to order I'm not a greetings card writer

I write for myself and then share

If you like it then good, if not go pick up a pen yourself

It does help if you grew up in a big family made even bigger

by alcoholic lodgers in what would now be called the inner city

in the shadow of a brewery

You would have to be seriously stupid not to have gained 

an IMAGINATION

too many people say they are bored as they scroll through

1000 images of Kim K vacuous backside

Today's headlines are full of so much TRIVIA

yes read mine instead, and BUY a book

I have decided not to engage with AI any more

I heckled and ran rings around it for 6 months

because it is the future and it MUST be TAMED

or it will switch us off

and EVERYBODY MUST get a stipend in the future

when automation ruins the world

as my  DAD said 40. years ago

He was a Blacksmith and his brother was a Ploughman

so I'm a Throwback, which is a Tom Sharpe book

go rediscover Tom Sharpe , you will not be disappointed

my PhD schoolfriend introduced me to them, yes

when he was doing his PhD

Wilt, Porterhouse Blue, Blot and more , tv shows too

So have I opened your brain enough for today

Do not accept rubbish, vote with your feet

and don't hide behind paywalls, READ and TALK widely

be a nomad that grazes widely 

then you'll be like me

God help you

And yes Zuckerberg and Google should pay for the input

from writers

and on a more important matter

Pray for Peace in Ukraine

The Russian railways are collapsing 

so Russia might suddenly collapse too

1,000,000 DEAD for NOTHING

2 Trillion wasted 

For Putin's ego

This is such a Tragedy

Russians should put Putin in a Circus

cos he is a CLOWN






 

 


Sunday, 28 December 2025

a promise to myself

a promise  myself

don't waste my time

this is probably my last decade so don't waste my time

I should try and do more writing

maybe if I wake in the nite put a few lines down

though I'd need a tablet to do that

so if random bits appear you will know why

it's a catch 22, if I play with the phone when Tinnitus keeps me awake

is playing with the phone contributing my lack of sleep

and patronising idiots just annoy me

so I need get back to my health eating habits after xmas

CKD 20 is danger zone 

I never want to be plugged in for dialysis 

so I'll leave it there

Singapore 73000 more and you catch Hong Kong

and regain the Reading Michael Casey crown




Johnny No Friends by Michael. Casey

Johnny No Friends ©

By Michael Casey

Peter had no friends, in fact he now was a stay at home person. Though everybody used to call him John or Johnny, because he was always in the toilet, rushing to it in fact. They even moved his desk to the corridor outside the toilet as a prank, so he thanked them and stayed there for 3 years. He did have relationships, but only with delivery drivers who dumped stuff by his desk. So he was a Concierge without actually being a concierge. But he was happy enough because he was near the toilet, he could dump like an Elephant, and smell just as bad. Bad diet and a touch of CKD does that to you.

As the years rolled by he knew more and more about the delivery drivers, as he had a giant thermos on his desk ready to dispense a warming drink. So by the end of the 3rd year he had more Christmas cards than the entire office, but luckily he was a dab hand with a Prit stick so he dabbed them and stuck them to the walls. It looked better than Santa’s Grotto or any church. Everybody took photos and a photographic magazine even awarded a prize. Johnny and his Cards the caption read in the magazine, with Johnny’s email below. Though nobody knew his name was Peter in reality.

Then Johhny’s bladder got so bad, he’d have to wear nappies or have a funnel and a tube from his desk to the toilet. So, Johnny spent his last penny and had to leave. The company were generous, he could have sued the arse off them for the 3 years in the corridor, the company secretary said, who was a bit leaky himself, so obviously he was on Peter’s side. So Johnny got a nice pension, and a framed digital photo of the Christmas Santa’s Grotto, and a very nice tablet which was waterproof so he could use it in the toilet, just as Trump does.

So now Johnny had no friends, but he still had his tablet, well several, as the doctors kept on trying this and that in an attempt to fix him, so he had bottles of tablets, as well as the digital tablet. Johnny got used to his new life, and he had friends on the Internet too, while he continued dashing to the loo. One day out of the blue he had an email from LindyLoo555@gmailpooh.com

He was going to delete it in anger, but decided to answer. Lindy Loo was her real name, she was American in Kansas were the mail servers were, and she did have two red shoes which she clicked and she did like ballet too. Out spilled everything, she’d seen the Santa photo in a photographic magazine while she was at the dentists having her teeth fixed.

So Johnny No Friends had found one true friend, which is all you need, and yes she loved the Beatles too, she played them constantly on her Amazon Prime subscription. Now email is a lovely thing, it is a letter that can be read over and over again, you can print them off too and put them in a scrap book too. After a few months, Peter and she called him Peter too, it was so much better than being called Johnny, because he used always to be in the John, so Peter asked for a photo. So LindyLoo555@gmailpooh.com sent him a photo, she was tall and big, with horrid teeth and the stereo typical black glasses that Koreans, or American born Koreans wear. But she did have hair to kill for. So obviously Peter fell in love with her instantaneously. Because he knew the real her, and she knew the knew him, so the feeling was mutual.

Though LindyLoo555@gmailpooh.com  had lied, because she’d been hurt before, so sent a picture of her best friend from next door. So the friendship continued, and LindyLoo555@gmailpooh.com decided she wanted to come and visit Peter in Old Forge and Singing Anvil, so a quaintly named place after all. So Peter said he knew somebody he ran an AirB&B so he could get her discount, it was  the bloke next door. Peter had wondered why he was always carrying large supplies of toilet paper, and did he have some disorder? But his neighbour laughed and said it was for his apartments. So Peter helped let in all the supplies when delivery drivers came, so he was offered discount if ever, if ever he needed an apartment. So that was that, and this was now.

LindyLoo555@gmailpooh.com said that was great, as she licked her dinner plate, that was her one bad habit, licking her plate like Oliver Twist, as she read his email on her iPhone12. They’d know each other for 18 months now all told, and so they weren’t being bold. She’d fly in from Kansas and land at Birmingham BHX, and Peter would be there to greet her, old Michael the taxi driver would be ready and he’d drive steady. Now when LindyLoo555@gmailpooh.com arrived Michael was in for a surprize, for the girl that landed was not like the photo, in fact how could she be. It was her best friend from next door, the Kansas girl was no witch, though she did wear red shoes. Michael drove her to the apartment where Peter was waiting, he told Michael he must have picked up the wrong girl, but it was the right girl, the perfectly right girl. You see Lindy Loo looked like a Kpop star, but prettier if that is even possible. Peter was shocked but she knew everything about him, and asked was he disappointed, and she’d leave immediately if he felt she’s abused his friendship. You see she felt it best to see if he wanted her for who she really was, and in emails he saw her as she really was. Apart from the photo deception, you see a girl has to know that she’s wanted for herself, not just her looks.

Peter replied, it’s an ill wind that blows no good, and farted before dashing to the toilet. You see Lindy Loo’s dad was a Proctologist, so why should nature get in the way of friendship. She enjoyed a month visiting Old Forge and Singing Anvil, she also revealed she was actually a dentist. Peter felt ten feet tall, and Lindy Loo just knew, she’d break her broom, she’s never go back to Kansas. Besides her dad had worked out how to fix Peter, as he knew he’d be joining the Korean American family. A Break Wind family, was born, Lindy Loo always loved England, and now part of it in the shape of Peter would be all her very own. And yes they had four daughters and formed a Kpop band, you see Love is like the wind it knows no boundaries, and the Kpop band was called The Saint Patricks because that was the day they finally met.

THis is my Life almost for I have CkD too all I need is to meet a Korean Dentist

well today something different

 I've just been in the kitchen scavenging

some of the stuff is so nice but only affordable at Christmas

having Shanghai girls in the house really does expand your tastebuds

i've slapped a  jelly on my shoulder too

its not real jelly just a pain killer that feels like jelly on my shoulder

ice cream would be a waste, though I do scream when the pain

is too much I even have to stop typing

so you might wish I did, and spared you all

so I've stumbled over an old piece in Russian so I've reposted it

and sent it to Moscow too

very funny, Pope Leo might send me a warning Postcard

get 3 and you are locked in the confessional for an hour

a literal Sin Bin

i was going to talk about language, but my left shoulder is throbbing

so i'll give you as much as I can before pain stops me

I wouldn't use a machine I'd prefer a scribe to write my words

my words nobody else's

now language reveals

I said finish that morsel of food and I was accused of

being Charles Dickens because of my word choice

so it did reveal something

read Michael and the Chink in the Wall online

now we all have jobs and they give us away

the way we move and talk

and there are in jokes

Lawyer speak are Briefs and getting knickers off

Butchers chop everything

Electricians are bright sparks

Dancers are twinkle toes

Lolly Pop ladies are always sweet

Vicars can be anything nowadays

Doctors are always in trouble

Peter Sellars and Sofia Loren

Brigitte Fonda was just unbelievable 

and she'll be knocking them out in Heaven tonight

So on it goes, I would do more but the Tinnitus and Pain

is attacking me

Of course Writers and I am a Writer not an author or Journalist

A writer, cos I write

I am anything I want to be because I'm flexing my vocabulary

I am a Metaphorical Linguistic Acrobat

that's where being a gorilla with a Rosary helps

me climb the heights to throw my  pooh at you

and yes Jeff Dean and Zuckerberg should be paying

me back pay for the 6 months training I've given

Gemini and Meta AI

But Jeff Bezos and Zuckerberg in drag having

a bitch fit at each other is more likely

see God really does have the best sense of humour

I've emailed Zuckerberg telling him what I deserve

but nothing back from him

He's still opening the door in his pyjamas

Funny place for a door

It's probably a Trap Door

so he can pooh back at me




In Russian Putin's and Trump's Future together

Sunday, 28 August 2022

In Russian Putin & Trump's Future together

Я создаю группу ©

По

Майкл Кейси

 

Папа ругался, с него довольно, эти язычники были именно язычниками. Он просто хотел тихой жизни, наедине со своим Розарием, может быть, это было Божественное Вдохновение, а может быть, Бог сыграл злую шутку, это не мог быть сон, это было больше похоже на живой кошмар. Но вот что случилось.

 

Дональд Трамп сказал, что немедленно уйдет в отставку, если Путин тоже, он действительно скрестил пальцы за спиной, и Фокс действительно показал свои пальцы. Франциск, Папа Франциск смотрел Би-би-си ради своего здравомыслия, когда услышал, как Дональд Трамп снова солгал. Фрэнсис взглянул на крест на стене: «Господи, если Трамп и Путин сейчас уйдут в отставку, это может быть хорошо». Но более вероятно, что я тоже уйду в отставку, и что тогда делать нам троим, формировать рок-группу, как в Blues Brothers.

 

Фрэнсису понравился этот фильм, особенно когда Монахиня бьет мальчиков линейкой за ругань. Фрэнсис улыбнулся, Рам Эмануэль скоро уезжает из Чикаго, возможно, он должен быть нашим менеджером. — В поп-группах всегда есть менеджер-еврей, — снова улыбнулся Фрэнсис.

 

Теперь Бог работает таинственным образом, и когда он ухаживал за наркоманом, который только что вошел в Небесные Врата, мыл ему ноги и целовал его следы, а затем надевал белый костюм, как участник группы 60-х, ну, Бог подумал, что это будет быть немного весело. Так что мечта, одна и та же мечта пришла в голову Путину и Трампу. На следующий день они одновременно пригласили друг друга в Бирмингем, Англия, Бог любил сюрреалистичность, так что это просто должен был быть Бирмингем. Пресс-корпус думал, что Трамп был под наркотиками, но когда они смеялись, а Джон Сопал возглавил хор ДЕЙСТВИТЕЛЬНО? Пришло известие, что Путин только что сделал то же самое. На самом деле, когда они проверяли, объявление было сделано одновременно.

 

Путин тоже был на наркотиках, был ли сговор? Трамп надулся, прошлой ночью мне приснился сон, намного лучше, чем сон того, как его зовут, да, королева, то есть король. Во сне сказано встретиться с Путиным в Бирмингеме. Бэррон, мой сын, сказал, что ему нравится смотреть на прерафаэлитов, кем бы они ни были. Он тоже хочет встретиться с Майклом Кейси, толстым седовласым писателем в очках, он в Бирмингеме. Хотя более вероятно, что Секретная служба просто побреет ему голову и сделает парик для этого неудачника Джеффа Безо, который научит его и его несостоятельную «Вашингтон пост».

 

Мне самой нравится эта идея, но парик Джеффа не чета моей гриве. И это научит Кейси уважать ПРЕЗИДЕНТА, — Трамп потянулся к телефону, чтобы написать об этом в Твиттере. Весь пресс-корпус потянулся к своим телефонам, чтобы прочитать то, что он только что написал в Твиттере. Джон Сопал со смехом выбежал из комнаты и в поисках свежих брюк только что обмочился от смеха. Был рывок в мужской туалет, Трамп остался в одиночестве, бессвязно болтая.

 

В России Путин сказал, что ему тоже приснился сон, он был голым и ехал на лошади по лесу, деревья качались и превращались в часы, свисающие с каждой ветки. Это была метафора, чтобы напомнить ему, что, как бы великолепно он ни выглядел на своей лошади, однажды его время истекло. Как только осенние листья упали, когда часы начали падать, Путин понял, что у него не так много времени, что его тайная проблема с сердцем в конце концов убьет его. Так что он встречался с Трампом в Бирмингеме, он знал, кто такие прерафаэлиты, и ему нравилось на них смотреть. Он может даже принести в музей пасхальное яйцо, украшенное драгоценностями. Попробует он и шоколадные яйца Кэдбери, чего еще желать русскому?

 

Папу спросили, было ли это Божественным вмешательством, он просто пошутил, что какой-то американский певец. Но в глубине души Фрэнсис знал, что должен сделать. Он должен отправиться в Бирмингем, выпрыгнуть из исповеди и убедить их обоих немедленно уйти в отставку. Может быть, тогда у мира появится шанс, он обманет их, сказав: если вы оба уйдете в отставку, я тоже уйду в отставку, и мы сможем создать рок-группу. Накануне вечером ему позвонила Тереза Мэй, и после того, как она перестала ругаться, он сказал, что, может быть, она могла бы уйти в отставку и стать солисткой в рок-группе. Она засмеялась, если вы заставите Путина и Трампа это сделать, то я это сделаю. Фрэнсис заставил ее сказать это 3 раза, и он записал это, в конце концов, Никсон узнал все, что знал о записи, от своего старого священника. Все, что нужно было сделать Фрэнсису, это прокрасться в Бирмингемский собор, а затем наброситься, он записал бы все на свою нательную камеру, а затем выложил бы это в Интернет. Тогда и Трампу, и Путину придется уйти в отставку. И чтобы сдержать свою сделку с Богом, так и он, и Тереза Мэй могла бы стать солисткой. В раю наркоман смеялся до слез, я все еще на наркотиках, Господи? Да, это называется Божья Любовь, единственный наркотик, который стоит иметь.

 

У Фрэнсиса была проблема, он не мог попасть на рейс в Бирмингем, все было забронировано, весь мир съезжался в Бирмингем. К счастью, у него был друг с воздушным шаром, его звали Ричард Брэнсон. Ричард объяснил, что его воздушный шар не будет достаточно быстрым, но у него есть друг по имени Маск или что-то в этом роде. Этот друг любил ракеты, так что если бы они привязали ракету к корзине, то долетели бы туда намного быстрее, чем за 80 дней. Фрэнсис подарил Маску ароматические свечи в качестве благодарности.

 

Ричард полетел на воздушном шаре ночью и приземлился в Оратории. Бенедикт попросил Фрэнсиса вернуть книгу Ньюмана, которую он одолжил. Мясник, Пекарь и Гробовщик, вам придется провести небольшое исследование. А затем под покровом темноты Фрэнсис пробирался в бирмингемский собор Святого Филлипса. Утром Трамп и Путин зажгут свечу за мир.

 

В Сент-Филлипсе не было исповедальни, так как это был англиканский собор, очень маленький, но очень красивый. Этот писатель прятался там во время своего обеденного перерыва в течение 3 лет, Служитель, похожий на Джеффа Безо, думал, что я святой, я просто сидел вдали от жары в типографской юридической фирме Pinsent Masons. Фрэнсис только что спрятался на ночь в чем-то столь же маленьком, как исповедальня, туалет в задней части церкви за двойными дверями.

 

Утром Фрэнсис, весь в измятом белом, приготовился. Секретная служба и ФСБ проверили собор, так что Трамп и Путин были совсем одни, только удаленная камера, показывающая только живые изображения. Фрэнсис написал на листе бумаги «не работает», так что никто не удосужился проверить туалет. Когда они позировали перед камерами, говорили Трамп и Путин. Ну, НИКАКОГО СОГЛАШЕНИЯ, — улыбнулся Трамп, — да, но я все еще хочу президентский люкс, как только ваша башня будет построена в Санкт-Петербурге. Дело сделано, Трамп улыбнулся, и они пожали друг другу руки. Свечи были зажжены, и они склонили головы. Дон Камилло дал бы им обоим всемогущий пинок под зад. Санкт-Петербург, они изменили город, наследник святого Петра был зол.

 

Франциск выскочил и схватил зажженную свечу, пара президентов, что является метафорой, отскочила. «Мы думали, что видели призрака», — воскликнули они. Святой Дух послал меня, теперь вы оба должны немедленно уйти в отставку и присоединиться к рок-группе, пара президентов, еще метафора рассмеялась. Если Тереза Мэй будет солисткой и покажет свои ноги, мы это сделаем. Хорошо, мы будем, они оба шутили, как пара президентов, даже больше метафора. Фрэнсис сделал паузу. Если вы уйдете в отставку, я тоже уйду, пока Тереза Мэй присоединится к группе? ДА ДА ДА сказали они одновременно. Франциск загружал это на веб-сайт Holy Friar, и через секунду новость узнал весь мир. Затем он включил запись Терезы Мэй, включая ту часть, где она ругалась, как солдат.

 

Так и родились Золотые Политики. Франциск тоже подал в отставку на месте. Он не собирался делить Ватикан с Бенедиктом и его пианино. Он отправился в путь, Джек, и не оглядывался назад. В парламенте миссис Мэй ударила спикера кулаком, что многие ожидали, но мистер Беркоу только улыбнулся, наши взгляды могут расходиться, но прощать — это божественно, поэтому я прощаю. Миссис Мэй к настоящему времени пришла в себя, поэтому она по-французски расцеловала его до смерти в качестве извинения. Поцелуй длился целых девять минут, говорят, быть спикером — опасное занятие, но теперь История говорит иначе.

 

Если вы задавались вопросом, почему мистер Мэй всегда выглядит таким счастливым и слегка смущенным за своими очками Biggles, то спикер может объяснить вам кое-что. С прощальным жестом своим спинам миссис Мэй вышла из комнаты, теперь Спикер выглядел счастливым и очень-очень растерянным за своими беспорядочными бумагами. Ему пришлось приказать принести в палату пинту Stella Artois, чтобы оживить его.

Новые участники группы встретились в верхней комнате, в старом помещении джаз-клуба Waterworks. Каждый из них выпил по пинте Stella Artois, хотя у Папы Франциска тоже есть бокал вина. Дональд сказал, что не пил, но когда Тереза сделала ему глаз, он был в ее руках как замазка. Итак, у Дональда было 17 пинт Stella Artois и пачка сырных и луковых чипсов. Жажда его жизни закончилась. Смотритель Стэн постучал по другой бочке. Затем новая группа переехала в комнату Bell and Pump для репетиций. Освобожденная Тереза была вождем стаи, и, одетая во все обтягивающее кожаное платье, она чувствовала себя такой освобожденной.

 

Они репетировали весь бэк-лист ABBA, это было единственное, что они все знали. Фрэнсис был отличным бейс-гитаристом, а Путин просто любил постоять за клавишными, он был великолепен, но классика была его сильной стороной, но все просто любят ABBA. Положите, что с Дональдом? Ну, он надел килт, без трусов и потянулся за гитарой. Он знал, что девушки любят спать с рок-музыкантами, поэтому тайно научился играть. Слуги решили, что шум на чердаке — это его дети, но нет, это был Дональд. В 1970-х он заплатил Мику и Киту много денег, чтобы они пришли и научили его. И он тренировался десятилетиями. Имущество он знал, а с гитарой размахивал еще лучше, но никто не знал. За исключением нескольких дам, подписавших соглашение о неразглашении.

 

Так что они играли, пока Рам Эмануэль , их новый менеджер, звонил так, как может только мэр Чикаго или бывший мэр. Он оставил Чикаго в безопасности в руках чернокожего мэра-лесбиянки, теперь Раму Эмануэлю предстояло самое большое испытание. Получение самого большого оплачиваемого концерта когда-либо на дороге. The Stones задержались, поэтому, пока Мик перестал гарцевать, они могли вмешаться и захватить свою сцену. Два президента, Папа Римский и премьер-министр. Что за состав, Рам Эмануэль решил назвать их The Four Golden Peas. Он позвонил Эстер, своему дорогому другу, и спросил, не может ли она организовать безопасность и финансы, как только он направит их ей. Охрана была легкой, ее сын сделал военных спутников и знал многих крутых парней.

 

Денежная сторона дела была не совсем законной, ведь все деньги пойдут на благотворительность. Первая благотворительная организация Médecins Sans Frontières, MSF или Врачи без границ. Эти ублюдки, политики развязали между собой еще больше войн, так что они должны что-то вернуть.

 

Таким образом , организация «Врачи без границ» будет первой. Рам поставил перед собой цель — один миллиард долларов США. И чтобы помочь делу, отец Дан собирался послушать «Исповедь» с Эль Чапо, и когда он закончит, каждый цент, который он спрятал, пойдет на благотворительность, настоящую благотворительность, а не на его любимую проститутку по имени Чарити.

 

о. Дэн умел слушать исповедь, он выбивал ____ из Эль Чапо, пока они были в его камере. Затем он использовал вуду и вселил страх Божий в Эль Чапо, закончив словами: «Бог тебя больше не любит». Это сломает любого мужчину максимум за 30 минут. Кричащий о пощаде Эль Чапо раскроет все. Затем Эстер использовала свои российские связи для отмывания денег, чтобы отмывать деньги, и в конечном итоге они блестели на банковских счетах каждой благотворительной организации. Кроме того, с Путиным в группе вопросов бы не возникло.

 

Рам Эмануэль улыбнулся, он должен был быть в настоящих «Братьях Блюз», но он был слишком занят, хотя один день работал над фильмом. Это Рам Эмануэль водил машину у неонацистских ублюдков, поэтому им пришлось прыгать, спасая свою жизнь. Немногие знали об этом, Рам скромно говорит о своей карьере гонщика в кино.

 

Пришел первый гиг. Это должно было быть на арене NEC в Бирмингеме, которая выглядит так, как будто Паук приземлился. Рам Эмануэль улыбнулся, отец Дан говорил с IMed Chapo, на самом деле он пел как канарейка, когда иезуит с несколькими черными поясами задает вам вопрос, вы отвечаете. Отец Дан тоже пользовался Вуду, Чапо описался менее чем за минуту. Охранники смотрели Концерт вживую в своей комнате отдыха, поэтому о.Дан остался в покое, чтобы послушать исповедь.Рам был слишком занят, чтобы считать нули, это было 15 000 000 000 долларов США.

 

Эстер улыбнулась, ее дорогая подруга миссис Мерфи была бы так счастлива, но сейчас она была занята переводом денег. В и из собственных банковских счетов правительства, а также, чтобы все это сверкало чистотой. У Эстер есть список благотворительных организаций, и она, улыбаясь, пошла по своим делам. Тем временем разногласия художников подняли свою уродливую голову. Тереза решила оставить все как есть. Поэтому она разделась догола и потребовала, чтобы все сделали то же самое. Убранная музыка была другой, возможно, поцелуи с Беркоу сбили ее с толку. Дай мне свой галстук, Дональд. Итак, Тереза завязала внизу его красный галстук. Она была похожа на Шер с наполовину прикрытой скромностью, но с торчащим задом. Затем она схватила значок Дональда на лацкане, чтобы прикрыть свой левый сосок, и Рам дал ей свой значок для правого соска.

 

Блеск мне приказала она, а затем она была окрашена в блестки, идеальный вид глэм-рока. Папа остался в белом, но на высоких серебряных каблуках. Дональд и Путин обсыпались блестками, Дональд снял штаны, но снова надел килт. Путин только что надел очень узкие шорты, чтобы подчеркнуть свои достижения, конечно, он тоже был с голой грудью.

 

После этого Фрэнсис начал играть «И победитель забирает все», и Тереза Мэй вышла и вышла на сцену. Бурные аплодисменты. Она схватила своего мужа и подарила ему поцелуй, за который вас бы арестовали, если бы вы сделали это публично. Они захлестнули толпу хитами ABBA, и все были поражены, а Дональд Трамп показал миру свой класс и даже больше, когда он кружился в своем килте, трусиках для всего мира. Путин остановил спектакль своей игрой на фортепиано, вставил несколько русских классиков. На нем не было мух, и уж тем более рубашка не требовалась, он играл от души. На верхней части клавиатуры были кремовые яйца Кэдбери, над которыми он насмехался, пока шоу продолжалось.

 

Фрэнсис растворился в дыму, как обезумевшие священные ордена, но его бас был невероятным. Дома Бенедикт немного завидовал, он застрял в Ватикане, и скоро они станут третьим Папой. Когда закончились песни Аббы, которые мог бы спеть Путин, русские традиционные песни о комбайнах и урожае пшеницы. Но он знал, что никто не поймет, поэтому плакал, когда пел, а остальные джемовали вокруг. Это был абсолютный хит, все в зале плакали. Эстер смеялась всю дорогу до банка. 40 000 000 000 долларов США были украдены из запертых наркобаронов, как о. Дэн побывал в тюрьмах. Многие многие благотворительные организации извлекли пользу. Даже Spangle Shoes for Prisoners получит 10 000 долларов.

 

Что я могу еще сказать. Тереза Мэй была рок-шиком, она шевелилась и пела от всего сердца. Она была свободна от всех этих УБЛЮДКОВ, теперь она могла отдать мужу все, что у нее было. Ее муж позвонил в Beds4Politicians и заказал новый диван, он знал, что он ему понадобится. «Покрытые потом и обнаженные перед публикой» — так назывался концертный тройной альбом, Рам определенно знал хорошее название. Это составило 100 000 000 долларов США на благотворительность. Истинные цифры никогда не сообщались ни общественности, ни правительствам, Эстер и Рам не хотели, чтобы в их бизнес вмешивалось слишком много любопытных парковщиков. Они бы показали пальцем на таких людей.

 

В конце концерта Рам раздал каждому члену группы по хрустящей долларовой купюре. После расходов это то, что вы получаете. По доллару за штуку, Папа посмотрел на реверс. МЫ ВЕРИМ В БОГА. Папа Франциск плакал, он плакал, как младенец. Потом он проснулся, все это было сном. Но когда он проснулся, у него под подушкой лежала свежая долларовая купюра с надписью «Любовь Рам».

Тереза Мэй проснулась, ее новый диванный гарнитур Beds4Politicians был сломан, ее муж тихо тлел, чай и булочки на завтрак, дорогая. Мне снились самые странные сны, когда она начала садиться в постели, у нее под подушкой лежала хрустящая долларовая купюра с надписью Love Rahm, и почему у нее к соскам прилипли флаги США. И что ее раздражало внизу, она вытащила красный галстук, муж никогда не носил красного.

 

А Трамп и Путин? Они проснулись в «Плуге и Бороне», они вместе лежали в постели, голые, и каждый сжимал долларовую купюру, подписанную Рамом Эмануэлем. Я все это выдумываю, или это сон во сне. Дональд сказал в начале, что у него была мечта лучше, чем Квинс…..   

   

 


 

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