Dazed

Dazed ©

By

Michael Casey

I’m wondering what to talk about today but I’m too dazed by pain to think clearly, so let’s see where I end up. Dazed has all kinds of meanings and connotations. You can be dazed when you are punched, or when 2 lads jump you when you are coming home from school with your mates. Like in 1973 maybe when one lad jumped on my back and held my arms while another dropped the nut, before running away. The 3 or 4 friends I was with were too slow to react. I’ve just remembered that story after all those years. I can remember feeling dazed and asking them when they did not intervene. The rubbish secondary school hated us from the grammar school, hence I was a target.

Since then I’m taller and far heavier, but I can remember being dazed and my head throbbing. So nowadays I always watch people’s hands to see what they are doing and to see are they clenched as. I potter about down the street. Taff used to work night shift with us and every night we all had to pass through the really dodgy underpass with Jags in the middle of it. Two bright sparks asked Taff for a light and grabbed his arm as he did so. Unfortunately for then Taff was martial arts trained, so he hit them both before running to the shelter of out building on Smallbrook Queensway. They were the dazed ones.

I have also in my time worked with dazed people who should have had the night off. So I’d make them sit in a corner for a few hours before persuading then to finally do some work. Working night shifts in themselves does make you feel dazed. You also go through a wall rather like the Marathon wall, but in the case of night shifts you are just so tired until you get your 2^nd wind. You also go through the Sillies, you just Laugh at the Silliest of things. If you have never worked over long night shifts you may have never experienced this. Speaking from 14 years of night shifts and a lifetime of the late shifts, maybe 30 years worth I’d say avoid night shifts if you can they are bad for your Health.

On a night shift you wake up again before Shift Handover, your brain I’m talking about, not your body, though I do know that other people can and will be naughty. When you get home you are awake again so you watch a bit of Daytime Tv before going to bed at 9am or so. But when you get up at 5pm you can feel dazed until food. So you have a few hours to yourself, before catching the 10pm bus to town and your computer room. So now after all those years you really are observant, nobody is going to jump you. Besides you have your Lunchbox for protection, or rather your ham and Red Leicester sandwiches in a plastic box. My lunch for a decade.

Now pain does daze too, you cannot think straight or you repeat yourself, or you repeat yourself. Death brings about daze too. I’ve had a lodger die on me when I was 21 or so, I also been the one to hear bad news first when the Police to the door asking for Mr Casey. Then they tell you one of your lodgers has been found dead on the bus, horse riding with a heart condition is never a good idea. I can remember stuttering and repeating myself because I was so unbelieving. Then we had send the body home to Killybegs, I remember all that and its nearly 40 years ago now. That lodger was actually like an Uncle to me.

And on life goes, you finally marry and have kids. You are so happy when you hear you are going to be a dad that you cry in the computer room at SMBC, the lads are embarrassed but you are not. It’s such a great feeling, a dream come true. Though I know for some a birth is a disaster, but not for me. Then the baby is born in the middle of the night and you are tired and happy and dazed. At 3am you go home to tell your Shanghai mother in law she has her first granddaughter. Try doing that in sign language when you don’t speak Chinese.

What else can I say about being dazed, probably more but I really am dazed right now due to all my pains. And my daughter was sick at school this afternoon, so maybe there’s sickness in our house. And no it’s not my writing that makes us all sick, if you say that then I’ll hit you with the mop before I wipe up any sickness. 

Break the Chain Russia a Mother Always Loves

I just noticed that Russia was reading my stuff today, which is a very busy day in our house. I also note that Kim from North Korea may be getting a spanking in Beijing.

In the end what the world needs is love. Edward the Confessor said who will rid me of this turbulent priest  and Thomas a Becket was murdered in Canterbury cathedral. I was there to see my friend get his PhD in biochemistry 35 years ago.

What the world needs is love. There is enough pain in the world,  I know all about pain myself if you've read any of my stuff you will know just some of my pain background.

Yes I want to conquer the world with my words, and there is a reason why I tend to write comedy, because I've seen too much tragedy directly or indirectly.

Yes I'd love a nice house and to be able to see my girls grow into women and have great lives.

But in today's world where everybody wants to prove just how big and strong they are, and even cheat at cricket when they are already the world's best really is so sad and depressing.

And where Trump should be in charge of a brothel not a Superpower, it really is sad where the world is going.

So Mother Russia as Easter approaches can you show leadership and not retaliate.

If all the billions stolen from Russia by Russians were spent in Russia then Mother Russia really would be even greater.

So today I have no new story for you, and yes I did prune my sites but  click here

https://michaelgcaseyfrombirminghamengland.wordpress.com   to find many more stories.

So tonight this is just a heartfelt plea for Peace, a Man makes Peace,

a Fool just repeats the same mistakes.

I've decided to repost this Russian story, really it is all about Love, Russian Love.

The Spaceman and The Arch-Angel ©

By Michael Casey

Mikhail Mikhailovich was a spaceman, a cosmonaut as the Russians  call them, he’d been in space forever, he held the world record already, he was testing himself to see if Man could make it to Mars. He and Tim Peake had had a lot of fun in the space station, but now Tim was gone. So Mikhail was lonely, in fact Mikhail was having a dark night of the soul, flying high in the sky orbiting the world. He was on the edge, but bear a bear of a man he told nobody, if only his wife Katarina was with him to make him strong, but he was floating in space and she was back in Saint Petersburg.

Michael the Arch-Angel had just pushed back Satan back into Hell and had sealed the gates with a pair of Rosary beads, now he was taking Mrs Murphy’s soul back to her body, he was in a hurry before her body died without her soul inside. At Saint Michael the Arch-Angel flew in space with Mrs Murphy’s soul safely tucked in his belt by his sword he felt Mikhail’s sorrow. So much sorry, he flew as fast as he could fly towards to space station, a soul was in danger, the space station was in danger, a man’s life and soul was in danger. Mikhail was on the verge of thinking of doing something mad bad and sad. Michael felt this and as an angel he must intervene, he spiralled directly towards the space station, he went straight inside and grabbed Mikhail’s arm.

An angel does not need to use doors, the spirit just walks through walls even in space, love knows no boundaries, and an angel is just that, love. Saint Michael the Arch-Angel gave Mikhail a bear-hug and nearly broke his ribs. Mikhail screamed in fear, Michael just laughed in his face and said he screamed like a little girl, was he going to pee his pants as an encore. Mikhail rubbed his eyes, there was angel in front of him, speaking Russian, in fact he sounded like his own old grandfather, with the same local accent.

I could punch your lights out, but I’m an angel so let’s talk, have you got any beer, my wings are tired I need a beer, asked the angel. Mikhail laughed, where do we have the room for a barrel of beer in a space station? The angel reached behind him and two pints of Stella Artois appeared in chalices, so Mikhail took one and drank it, after such a long time in space it was heavenly to say the least. So Mikhail and the angel had 4 pints each, which is enough to wet their whistle if they were both Russian. Mikhail wasn’t scared any more, if this was a dream he was going to enjoy it. He’d love a big sandwich of Russian beef and bread with lettuce and tomatoes, so once more Saint Michael reached behind him and the sandwiches appeared. Is Paul Daniels behind you joked Mikhail, Tim the English spaceman had told Mikhail about Paul Daniels during his time on the space station. No replied the angel, but God is behind me, and in front of me and in all directions too, he has my back, and your’s too, that’s why I’m saving you.

Mikhail, looked at his feet, he’d felt a failure, he could have, but he didn’t, an angel had saved him. Michael the Archangel gave him another pint of Stella Artois, Paul Daniels was working overtime you could say. Why were you in space anyway asked Mikhail. I was returning a soul to a body, Mrs Murphy was risking her soul to save the life of her priest, or rather the soul of her priest. That’s when Satan pounced, so I had to give him a kicking, and then mum asked we to return Mrs Murphy’s soul to her body, before her body expired. Mum who is your mum? Mary is my mum, she’s everybody’s mum, she prefers to be called  ”mum” it’s  the highest title of all. Mikhail Mikhailovich started to cry, so Michael wiped his nose with his wings.

I wish I could be a father but being in the space program has put paid to that, I am a hero of Mother Russia, but my own wife cannot be a mother, we will never know the joy of children. Mikhail cried again, the angel gave him a huge hug, almost breaking the spaceman’s ribs and Mikhail’s face turned bright red due to lack of oxygen. A tear fell from the angel’s eye, it trickled down his face and splashed Mrs Murphy’s soul, this was enough for Mrs Murphy she was saying the Rosary in a nanosecond. Her body was dead by now, but at least she could pray for the spaceman.

Michael and Mikhail had some fresh fruit, bananas and grapes, washed down with more Stella Artois. Mikhail unburdened himself to the angel, all his hopes and dreams, being a spaceman was the last of them. Tim had told Mikhail about David Bowie and the two of them had put the face makeup on and sung the songs. Now Tim was gone and Mikhail missed him, but most of all Mikhail missed something he’d never have. Children. As a child Mikhail loved listening to stories, stories from all over Russia and everywhere else too, but then studying came along.

Saint Michael the Archangel has a secret, he loves stories too, he’s spent ages, literally Ages listening to stories from all over the world. So as they drunk their Stella Artois Michael told Mikhail some of the stories. First in Russian for the Russian stories, then he switched to Chinese for the Chinese stories, Indian for the Indian stories, and Japanese for the Japanese stories. Michael knew thousands of stories in told them all in all the native languages. The food and drink flowed, Paul Daniels really is a great magician, how he hid all of it in the space station ready to save a soul, a Russian spaceman’s soul we’ll never know, perhaps he’s just an angel.

How long would it take to tell tales from all over the world, as long as there is food and drink on the table there will always be tales, and this angel doesn’t follow Logic, only Love. In Earth time 50 years had passed, or was it just a dream? Michael and Mikhail hugged, this time Michael could not breathe and he turned red. Mikhail had been filled with Love, and food and drink thanks to maybe Paul Daniels, so he was a big Russian Bear once more.

You are Mikhail Mikhailovich a Spaceman who did not fall to earth, you are the Storyteller from Space, you are a “father” to billions of children, and to your wife you are the best husband in space and on earth who gave her seven children, angels love the number 7, Snow White really did exist you know, but that’s another story. Mikhail snored, he been dreaming hadn’t he.

Michael flew off into space, for decades he’d been talking to Mikhail, it was a coincidence he’d spotted Mikhail, he thanked God. As Michael looked at his watch, by which I mean the rotation of the stars in space, he realised he’d actually gone back in time by 2.9 nanoseconds. Einstein had been livid when he’d got to Heaven to discover that Time and Relativity was just one of God’s jokes.

Mrs Murphy’s soul was returned to her body, but her 50 years of prayers so that Mikhail could have a family had not been wasted, and as for her priest well that’s another story, Tears for a Butcher by Michael Casey to be exact, if God gives me the time to finish it.

The next night Mikhail said he had a story for all the Russian children, so he told them about the night the angel came to the space station. This was an instant hit all over Mother Russia, it was so funny too, though he had to explain who Paul Daniels was, they liked the story a lot, not a little bit. The Indians wanted to hear the story so could he tell them too, so he did but Mikhail told them in one of the major Indian languages, and as each child hear the story they hear it in the voice of their own grandfather. Japan was next and they were astounded too, not only did know their language but the accent was perfect, Mikhail was like a United Nations, his stories perfectly told demanded silence, followed by tears of joy.

Mikhail spent another month in space, each night he’d tell stories to the world’s children. He was out of this world literally and in all other ways. When it was time for him to return he was an international hero, for science and for story-telling. Putin himself said he drive him from the airport to the Kremlin for a reception. When Mikhail came down the steps from the plane his wife jumped into his arms, Putin was dressed as a chauffeur, the election was next month and he know good PR. The president as servant of the people.  Putin did have to close the privacy screen in the Zil because the spaceman started on creating his happy family on the back seat of the Zil limousine.

So Mikhail got what he wanted a big happy Russian family, was the angel right in guessing 7, no he was wrong, Mikhail and his wife only had 3 pregnancies. Three being Mrs Murphy’s favourite number, three sets of triples. Mikhail set up his own Utube station to tell stories to the world’s children, he called it You’ll Like It, a lot. Then his friend Putin suggested he should run for president, so that’s how a spaceman called Mikhail became the President of Russia, because an angel came acalling, twinkle, twinkle.        

   

На космонавта, а  Arch-Angel ©

Майкл Кейси

Михаил Михайлович был космонавта, космонавта, как русские называют их, что в космосе навсегда, он держал мировой рекорд уже он сам испытывая для того чтобы увидеть если человек может сделать его на Марс. Он и Тим Пике было очень весело на космической станции, но теперь Тим. Так что Михаил была одинокой, на самом деле Михаил был в темной ночи души, летать высоко в небе на орбите мира. Он был на краю, но  медведя мужчина сказал он никто, если только его жена Катарина была с ним, чтобы сделать его сильным, но он был с плавающей в пространстве и она обратно в Санкт-Петербурге.

Михаил был Arch-Angel просто отброшены назад, Сатана в аду и не герметичные ворота с парой бусины четок, в настоящее время он принимает миссис Мёрфи душу обратно в тело, он был в спешке перед ее тело умер без душа ее изнутри. На Сент-Майкл на Arch-Angel вылетел в пространстве с миссис Мерфи благополучно душе скрываются в его ремень, свой меч он считает Михаила печаль. Так жаль, что он пролетел так быстро, как он мог бы лететь к космической станции, душа была в опасности, космической станции, находится в опасности, человек, жизнь и душа была в опасности. Михаил был на грани мышление делает что-то с ума плохо и грустно. Майкл почувствовал это, и как ангел, он должен вмешаться, он закрутило прямо на космической станции, он пошел прямо внутри и схватили Михаила рычага.

Ангел, не нужно использовать двери, дух просто прогулки через стены, даже в космосе, любовь не знает границ, и Ангел, как раз о том, что любовью. Святой Михаил, Arch-Angel дал Михаил медведя-обнять и почти сломал ему ребра. Михаил кричал от страха, Майкл просто рассмеялся в лицо и говорит, что он кричал, как маленькая девочка, он собирается его Мочиться в штаны как encore. Михаил протер глаза, ангел, русским, фактически он звучало как своего старого деда, с тем же местным акцентом. 

Я мог бы перфорации lights out, но я ангел, так что давайте поговорим, у вас есть пиво, мои крылья надоело мне нужно пиво, спросил ангел. Михаил рассмеялся, когда у нас есть комната для бочку пива на космической станции? Ангел достигла позади него и две пинты Stella Artois появилась в чаш, поэтому михаил взял один и выпил его, после такого долгого времени в пространстве он был небесным. Так Михаил и ангел, 4 пинты каждую, что достаточно намочить их свистка, если они оба были. Михаил был не страшно , если это был сон, он нравится. Он бы с удовольствием большой бутерброд Российской говядины и хлеба с салатом и помидорами, поэтому еще раз Святой Михаил достигла позади него и бутерброды. - Пол Дэниэлс позади вас пошутил Михаил, Тим Английский космонавта рассказал Михаил о Paul Daniels во время его пребывания на космической станции. Не ответил ангел, но Бог находится позади меня, и передо мной и во всех направлениях, он спину, и ваши тоже , поэтому я вам сэкономить.

Михаил, посмотрел на его ноги, он чувствовал, он мог бы, но он не ангел спас его. Михаила Архангела дал ему еще кружку пива Stella Artois, Paul Daniels работал сверхурочно, вы могли бы сказать. Почему вы были в космосе, во всяком случае спросил Михаил. Я возвращался души к телу, миссис Мёрфи, рискуя ее душу, чтобы спасти жизнь своего священника, или, скорее, душа ее священник. Когда сатана набросились, так что мне пришлось дать ему ногами, а потом мама спросила мы вернуться миссис Мерфи душу в ее тело, ее тело, истек. Мама сейчас ваша мама? Мэри - это моя мама, она все мама, она предпочитает называть "мама" это самый высокий титул. Михаил Михайлович начал плакать, поэтому Михаил вытереть нос со своими крыльями.

Я бы хотел быть отцом, но в космическая программа была положить конец, что я герой Матушки-России, но моя собственная жена не может быть матерью, мы никогда не узнаем, радость от детей. Михаил закричала снова, ангел дал ему огромный обнять, почти разорвать космонавта, ребрами и Михаил в лицо оказалось ярко-красный из-за нехватки кислорода. Разрыв сократился с ангелом в глаз, он trickled вниз его лицо и попадании миссис Мёрфи души, этого было достаточно, чтобы миссис Мэрфи она сказав, что розарий в Наносекунды. Ее тело было мертво, но, по крайней мере, она может молиться о космонавта.

Михаил и Михаил были свежие фрукты, бананы и виноград, запивая все Stella Artois. Михаил, без обременений себя ангелом, все его надежды и мечты, как космонавта был последним из них. Тим рассказал Михаилу о Дэвид Боуи, и два из них были лица макияж и пели песни. Сейчас Тим ушла и Михаил пропустил его, но больше всего Михаил пропустили то, что он никогда. Дети. Как ребенок Михаил любил слушать рассказы, истории со всей России и повсюду, но затем изучает.

Святой Михаил Архангел, секрет, он любит истории слишком, он провел в возрасте, в буквальном смысле слова временами слушать истории со всего мира. Так как они пьют их Stella Artois Михаил рассказал Михаил некоторые истории. Впервые в России для российской истории, затем он переключился на китайском языке китайская, индийская для индийской истории и Японский для японской истории. Майкл знал, что тысячи историй в сказал им всем на всех языках. Еда и напитки текли, Paul Daniels действительно является большим волшебником, как он спрятал все это в космической станции готовы спасти душу, Российский космонавта души мы никогда не знаем, возможно, он просто ангел.

Сколько времени потребуется, чтобы рассказать сказки со всего мира, до тех пор, пока не будет еды и напитков на столе всегда будут сказки, и этот ангел не следовать логике, только любовь. На Земле время 50 лет прошли, или это просто мечты? Михаил и Михаил обнимал, на этот раз Майкл не мог дышать, и он повернул красного цвета. Михаил был наполнен любовью, и еды и питья, благодаря, может быть, Paul Daniels, так он был большой Русский медведь.

Вы Михаил Михайлович на космонавта, не упадет на землю, вы Сказочник из космоса, вы - "отец" миллиарды детей, и вашей жене, что являетесь лучшим мужем в космосе и на земле , который дал ей семь детей, ангелы любовь номер 7, Белоснежный действительно существуют, вы знаете, но это другая история. Snored Михаил, он мечтал не он.

Майкл летел в пространстве, в течение многих десятилетий был разговор с Михаилом, было случайно он пятнистый Михаил, он благодарит Бога. Как Майкл посмотрел на его смотреть, под которой я подразумеваю вращение звезд в космосе, он понял, что на самом деле вернулись во времени 2,9 наносекунд. Эйнштейн был livid когда он бы получил на Небеса, чтобы обнаружить, что время и относительность является одним из Божьих шуток.

Миссис Мерфи, Душа вернулась в тело, но её 50 лет молитв, так, что Михаил может иметь семью, не были растрачены, а также за ее священник, а вот другая история, СЛЕЗЫ для мясника Майклом Кейси, чтобы быть точным, если Бог дает мне время, чтобы закончить его.

Следующей ночью Михаил сказал, что рассказ для всех российских детей, так он рассказал им о ночной ангел пришел к космической станции. Это был мгновенный удар по всей Матушки-России, было так смешно тоже, хотя он должен был объяснить, кто Пол Дэниэлс, им понравилась эта история, не немного. Индейцы хотели услышать рассказ, он мог сказать им, слишком, так он и сделал, но Михаил рассказал в одном из крупнейших индийских языков, и, как каждый ребенок слышит рассказ они слышать голос своего деда. Япония была рядом, и они поразили слишком, не только знать их язык, но акцент был отличный, Михаил был как Организации Объединенных Наций, то его истории прекрасно сказал потребовал тишины, после чего слезы радости.

Михаил потратил еще один месяц в космосе, каждый вечер он рассказывать истории для детей в мире. Он был вне этого мира, в буквальном смысле слова и во всех других отношениях. Когда пришло время для его вернуться являлся международным героем, для науки и для рассказа. Сам Путин говорит, что выбить его из аэропорта в Кремль на прием. Когда Михаил пришел вниз по ступенькам с самолета его жена прыгнул в его руках, Путин был одет, как шофер, выборы были в следующем месяце, а он знаете хороший PR. как слуга народа.  это сделал Путин, чтобы закрыть политика конфиденциальности экран в ЗИЛ, поскольку космонавта на создание своей счастливой семьи на заднем сиденье "Зил лимузин.

Так что Михаил получил то, что хотел большой счастливой русской семьи, был ангел в гадания 7, нет, он был неправ, Михаил и его жена были только 3 беременностей. Три, миссис Мёрфи любимый номер, три тройки. Михаил настроить свою собственную Сайты знакомств станция рассказывать истории для детей в мире, он назвал это вам понравится. Потом его друг Путин предложил ему баллотироваться на пост президента, так что как космонавта называется Михаил стал Президентом России, потому что ангел acalling приехал, пари, пари.        

   computer translation

Grannie Elizabeth and the Soldier

Grannie Elizabeth and the Soldier ©

By

Michael Casey

Grannie Elizabeth wasn’t a real grannie at all but to a lot of kids that’s what she was. She was Grannie Elizabeth, Elizabeth wasn’t her real name either, she just had an English accent like the Queen of England so she was Christened Elizabeth, Grannie Elizabeth. She was in fact a widow who used to babysit, babysit a lot and she was cheap, so she was very popular. As she walked down the street she would get nods and smiles and kisses from generations of kids. She was loved by a unites nations of faces, in New York. You see she had married a Yank as they used to be called and was transplanted to USA. Only her Yankie Soldier had died.

Her heart was broken so she could never marry again, her Wayne was the only man she had ever loved so how could she marry another. She had a widow’s pension and she proudly had a Stars and Stripes in her front lawn alongside a Union Jack, she was from England after all, and despite 50 years in USA she kept her accent. Her Wayne was special to her and he worked in Special Forces but they never really spoke about that. She just loved him to death, and when he died she miscarried, so her heart was doubly broken. So babysitting was some consolation.

Her kids were her kids and told to call her mum, but as time progressed she became Grannie, Grannie Elizabeth and loved by everybody. She got Birthday cards and Christmas cards and Mother’s Day cards, though the mother’s day cards did make her shed a tear, but she made sure nobody saw those tears.

Now she liked to jump on the bus and have an adventure, and that’s how she ended up in 26^th and 2^nd Berry Juice cafe. In fact she got off at the wrong stop and her feet needed a rest so she went and had a berry juice drink. It was while she was there that she met the soldier. He was in normal clothes but she knew a soldier when she saw one, besides he had a tiny tiny badge on his shirt collar. The exact same one her husband wore. It may have been the sore feet or the sight of the badge, or the jaw line. But Grannie Elizabeth started to cry.

The soldier looked over concerned. Mam can I assist he asked? Grannie Elizabeth replied in he Queen of England accent, sorry but you remind me of my poor dead husband. In England Mam? Grannie Elizabeth explained she had married a Yank, and he was in Special Services, she recognised his badge. She recited her Wayne’s service number. It turned out that the Soldier was called Wayne too, this made Grannie Elizabeth cry. Two Waynes, it was impossible.

So they chatted and the Soldier gave nothing away, but he did remember the service number. When they had finished their berry drinks Wayne put Grannie Elizabeth on the correct bus and waved goodbye. He also phoned a friend who checked out the service number, and he was shocked and awed to see who the original Wayne was. It turned out that the original Wayne has been a Legend decades before.

A week later a bowl of berries and a card arrived at Grannie Elizabeth’s house, gift wrapped in Union Jack and Stars and Stripes gift wrap. The other Wayne was a surveillance expert, so he had checked her out before sending the berries. From then onwards Grannie Elizabeth received berries on her Birthday and at Christmas, she also got a present at Honaker too as the new Wayne was Jewish. Grannie Elizabeth was pleased by the attention, she also started to pray for him every day, she did not want to lose two Waynes it would be too much.

This went on for a few years, Grannie Elizabeth had a fall and was hospitalised, only her flags fluttered in the wind. In the dark on the night some slime decided to break into to her home. But what you all need to remember is that the service is a family. So as the burglar entered her home he had the shock of his life. Wayne was there all dressed in black, he was not a cowboy, he was there with two buddies also dressed all in black quietly playing cards, waiting just waiting for such an eventually.

The next morning the burglar was found stripped naked and hanging between two flag poles. The Stars and Stripes fluttering alongside the Union Jack. The NYPD know a good deterrent when they see one, so they slowly replied to the call. Then they pretend argued about Health and Safety and who should climb the flag pole to cut the felon down. One bright spark said it was a Fire Department issue, so the Police had a coffee while the Fire Department came slowly, it was not a fire after all. Fox News got a tip off and Shep Smith featured  it on his show, live as well, it was a slow news day so it got the most exposure as did the burglar.

The neighbours all came out to say how disgusted they were with the felon, and then all the children she had babysat over the years rung Shep Smith to say just how disgusted they were trying to rob a Veteran’s Widow like that. The VA had a lot to say when they discovered it was a veteran’s widow’s home that had an attempted burglary.

Shep Smith wondered who were the good citizens who had caught the burglar. Shep interiewed the burglar while he was still strung up, but the felon was very highly strung, as you would be if you had met the Devil in the night, 3 devils in fact. All the burglar would say and could say was it was the Devil and I confess. He had a major confession to make, as would anybody who met three poker playing Devils in the night. Enough for twenty years in jail, but it would be better that meeting those 3 Devils again.

Grannie Elizabeth switched on the tv in hospital from her bed. She saw her own home, but before she could be shocked Wayne was there with berries for her. He was with Jesse and Billy his buddies from the night before. That’s naughty what you did chided Grannie Elizabeth, but my Wayne would have done the same. So they all laughed. Meanwhile Shep Smith had worked it all out, a Grannie with a husband in the Special Services, Shep just smiled, he was off to England soon to Old Forge and Singing Anvil, maybe he’d tell the tale then in a bar.

As for Wayne and Jessie and Billy they kissed Grannie Elizabeth and disappeared, they had to return the doctor’s clothes they had “borrowed” they would flying out on a mission that very night. Wayne passed a piece of paper to Grannie Elizabeth as he left. It just said ring this number if ever you need a friend. 555 5555 With that they were gone.

Grannie Elizabeth got home and had a hero’s reception, she just waved like the Queen of England and sat inside to finish her berries, lots and lots of berries. Now the night her Wayne had died she had had a feeling and now she had the very same feeling. Her Wayne, Wayne number two was in trouble, she just knew it, but what could she do? She did think of he phone number but she was not in trouble it was Wayne, she felt it in her English water, or maybe she had had too many berries. So she went to the bathroom and then to bed.

She dreampt of her Wayne and then of the new Wayne, she dreampt of an orchard too, perhaps it was the Garden of Eden, perhaps she would die soon and be with her husband again. Meanwhile Wayne’s mission had gone wrong. He was hiding hoping to stay alive, only he was captured, things would be bad and end in darkness.

Elizabeth watched Fox news and a small item catch her attention, she knew it Wayne must be there in that place far far away. She was right Wayne was, he was being tortured as he lay chained and bruised and bleeding he thought about Elizabeth and he hoped he could die with as much honour as her husband. The torturers teased him, do you want to speak to your family before you die?

The Devil was there waiting in the dark for Wayne, but Wayne had half an idea in his blood soaked head. Can I speak to my grannie before I die? So they teased him and beat him before allowing him to phone his grannie. Only he phoned Grannie Elizabeth instead. Grannie Smith its so good to hear your voice, just rung to say I will always remember sharing berries at 372 on 12 or was it at 456 on 18 I’m sorrow if I’m all mixed up, but I do love you. Then she heard him being beaten before the phone went dead.

Grannie Elizabeth might be old but she was not stupid, with tears in her eyes she rung that number if only she could find the piece of paper. In the end it was under the berries. She shouted down the phone. This is and she gave her dead husband’s service number, and then she explained. It was a map reference, and a grannie smith is a variety of apple. Wayne must be near an orchard. Grannie Elizabeth called an emergency Prayerathon at her house, everybody came. They did not ask what it was for, when a grannie calls you come running. The NYPD and the Fire Service came too. Grannie Elizabeth had called a Prayathon so everybody got there.

High high above in the sky right over an orchard all dressed in black Jesse and Billy exited the plane with a few other Devils, they were going to a house warming. They were going to set fire to a house. Wayne was carried out by Jesse and Billy while the other gunslingers fired off their laser guided six shooters.

In New York Grannie Elizabeth fainted, everybody was concerned, but she was happy, she could feel it. In fact her husband’s ghost was beside her smiling. Wayne was alive, Wayne was alive.

The next day a general arrived at the house carrying berries, followed by soldiers also caring berries, as well as a bag of grannie smith apples. Nothing was said, it was all top secret after all. But when a general and loads of soldiers salute and go away laughing you can tell it’s a happy ending.

So I hope you all enjoyed today’s story 25^th March 2018, which also happens to be Totoro our cat’s 3^rd Birthday. My kids wanted a pet, I said they could have a dog if I died or a cat if I had a heart attack. A few weeks later I had an unplanned quadruple heart bypass, at least my kids didn’t get a dog. So a cat was a happier ending.

You Before Me

Just watched the film You Before Me on Netflix, so I would recommend it to you all. Don't forget Summer Time begins in the morning. I could emphasise a lot with the guy in the film.

So I'll try and write a new piece tomorrow, today was a family chill day, even Totoro our cat is chilling sat near a warm radiator.

to keep you going here's a piece from 5years ago (I have a 1300 to 1600 back catalogue)

Casey Film School ©

By Michael Casey

Now in our house we watch loads of films, 5 a week and more maybe, and with Sky+ box you can record many more. I watched loads as a child too, in black and white in them days. I think I was 25 before I bought a colour  tv for the family. Children nowadays won’t watch anything not in colour.

I saw a documentary on tv with Keanu Reeves, the programme was all about Film, as in the physical piece of material that goes through the camera. It was comparing film to digital. There always is a “look” to a film, I used to say you can tell if a film is rubbish just by the credits.

The old fashioned Technicolor as in Robin Hood, had colours so rich it was as if a child had used wax crayons. Then there are washed out colours for effect, to give a feel and a meaning to a film. Some films are so dark you can hardly see a thing. Alien the first one seemed so especially dark.

Most films I’ve seen on tv, we do have a good tv, I spoilt myself 20 years ago and got a good tv, I was earning good money then and I had interest free credit for a year. Toshiba is all I will say, just go to John Lewis, get free 5 year guarantee and get a Toshiba. Our current Toshiba replaced the old one a few years ago.

Now does the average person notice all the nuances of the cinematography? I’ll say no, though I’m still on a learning curve myself. I’ve watched a ton of films and as my girls grow up we  talk about Film in the advert breaks, 3 mins on satellite, but if we have recorded the film we zap through the ads.

Do  you like the way the actor does this or does that, could you see where the scary bit was going to happen. Could you see how something was telegraphed? Telegraphed things are probably the most we’ve talked about. I hope I don’t spoil the joy of the thing with all this “Casey film school” material.

When you have seen Maltila, or Willy Winka or The Mummy, all versions, then you too will become a little film buff. We really hate it when ITV4 cuts the bit from the Mummy where they haggle for O’Connor’s life, just before he joins them.

Getting back to the documentary, can modern digital technology be trusted to give a good look? Technology gets better and better and will be good enough for everybody in 10 to 15 years time. This is what I’m guessing after listening to the experts. You also have to save some of the machinery so that in the future you can actually read the film in whatever technological format it has been shot.

Modern cameras, digital cameras are so light that you can go anywhere with them, Danny Boyle was talking about one of his films and he had 10 cameras for one section of one of his films. I didn’t know that normally film cameras only have enough film in them for 10mins of acting normally. Then they have to cut.

So imagine the actor has to get himself all worked up and in the zone then the film camera has to be reloaded. How can the actor get back to where he was emotionally after being stopped in mid flow.  It’s like having a streaker in the middle of an event, it would certainly put the vicar off his matins. So how can an actor be expected to get back to where he was.

Now with digital the actor, male or female or both, can keep on performing without fear, it’s not as if mom is knocking at the bedroom door demanding entrance, while sonny is with Cher doing the same. So digital allows uninterrupted performance.

The look and feel of the film is almost the same as Film, because digital is improving so much. As an audience we may hate the look however filmed because the film may look too trashy, or too slick, and so on. The director and the cinematographer must have loads of discussions on how to get it right, but when it IS right it really IS right.

But this now brings me on to the most important thing of all, THE WRITING, speaking as a writer, awaiting news on my 1^st screenplay for a film, I think it’s the writing which is the most important thing. If the story is weak or badly told then no amount of pretty looks will save it.

It will look like a commercial, a bad commercial. Film scripts as such are very bare, mine isn’t it gives plenty of direction. I’m hoping its idiot proof and that the director and cinematographer can just tell the actors “say the words” and if they follow their nose WE will have a success.

Perhaps I’m a little naïve, a virgin on the bed of cinema. However a writer is taking a chance that the film of his book &/or script matches what was in his head and was put on paper. In a way the writer writes the score and the director then has it in his head. And just like a conductor the director is getting actors and cinematographers and everybody else to play their instruments, their bodies if you like, so that the result is Mozart.

When it works it really works, just as Amadeus really worked, the look, the style, the music, the words, the everything. A director has to be like a general, a prostitute or a pimp, just to squeeze out the right performance.

It all starts with words on a page, then with pictures and together you have FILM.

Trash TV

just saw Dynasty remake it's funny so I've dug this piece out 

Trash Tv ©

By Michael Casey

I’m hiding in the other room while my girls watch Trash Tv, by which I mean a tv show that is so bad it makes you cringe. It might be KUWTK or anything else which has z listers in it trying to make enough to get out of the trailer park and back into an apartment, overlooking the trailer park.

You have girls, or should I say Botox pumped girls poured into swimsuits who keep on bending over to reveal their assets, front and rear, along with their gleaming painted white teeth. We all love pretty girls, otherwise the human race would just disappear. However a classic beauty of any size and combination is always far far prettier than a Trash Tv girl.

 You have men too, pumped full of iron and their designer drugs, with muscles and designer stubble galore, not to mention the latest shades, and bulging shorts, with or without shuttlecocks if you are old enough to remember Wham.

No I’m not jealous, I know a pretty girl is pretty because of her smile, because of her eyes, and not what lies between her….. As for men, girls want a bloke who’ll stick around and talk and actually listen to her. Then passion is better, it’s not fast food where you feel hungry afterwards, it’s more like a banquet.

However on Trash tv it’s all fast everything which just leads to heartburn and heart ache. Yes we all watch the rubbish tv, just to see did they really say that do they really love their reflection that much, is the high life really that high or just the arrogant self-centred people high on their egos.

It’s nice seeing nice places, just like in the James Bond movies, but what would be really nice, really really nice would be seeing him give the z listers a push, and not into a swimming pool but somewhere far far deeper, such as the Grand Canyon.  

Growing Up as a Writer

Growing Up as a Writer ©

By

Michael Casey

As usual I didn’t have an idea to talk about, then I was talking to my daughter, as all dad’s should, and she said my material, my writer was for a higher age certificate as the years had progressed. And this is true, I cannot talk about kittens all the time, and no I don’t now talk about sex kittens, though Trump does seem to be the expert. I hope all my material is still no more than 12 certificate or PG, you never need to be explicit when a metaphor will do, or a pantomime phrase.

Coroline is very good as is the Graveyard Book by Neil Gaiman if I’ve spelt his name right, but that is not all he writes. The same goes with me, I follow where the muse takes me to amuse you all, and myself. I could never write to order, it would kill my spirit and my muse, and my Muse is not some naked woman a la Picasso. I just pick an idea from space and then away I go. I am an Astronaut floating through ideas in the spaces in my brain. I hope my Russian readers enjoyed the story about the Spaceman and the Archangel which was on my site a while back and may still be live on one of my sites, I have 6 altogether I think.I never know what I write till it hits the page with the first wave and then the tide of words soaks up the page or all over your screen.

I am no Canute either controlling the words and commanding them to obey me, I set the words free and hope you all enjoy them. I did of course mispronounce Canute when I was in Mr Reading’s History lesson back in 1970, my friend Big D PhD and yes he really is a PhD still reminds me of this. He also reminds me that I stopped his heart by a friendly punch the same year. But now he is a PhD and I am a penniless writer, even though I’ve reached 1.27 million words now.

So just as I’ve grown up, or sideways as Big D PhD will attest, so our likes and dislikes and tastes grow too. So I’ve had the dad experience and I’ve written a lot about it in my first few books, which should make you all laugh a lot, try 300 and Not OUT for examples. You can only write so much about this subject or that subject then you move on.

Though I do have themes. Such as the “weak” guy winning  the girl, because some girls are not just vacuous reality tv wannabes, a real man has character not just muscles or a flash car and no personality. How I ended up with a Shanghai model looking wife you’ll have to ask Almighty God himself, though nobody believes me when I said she made me laugh. Having a good brain did help too, but again nobody believes that either. However my Chinese family in Shanghai know me, I was even called 1 in 1,000,000 and no they were not all drunk. Or then again it could be that I’m cursed, you decide.

And on it goes, Life, Love and Passion and Arguing all measure for measure that ends in pleasure. Family life has all these things and I bring them to the page in a variety of ways. Its not a crime to display this or that and let you all imagine the other. I was thinking should I write a horror piece, though some of you might already be saying my writing is horrible. I did write Michael and the Chink in the Wall a while ago and I did get a lot of good reactions to that, so I never know which way I will go.

My writing is an amusement arcade, some words go up and down, others go from side to side, others over the top, and no this is not a metaphor of some kind, its all in your mind. I put words to page and when I reread from start to finish I’m always pleased that the piece is better than envisaged. I might think I’m riding on a bus, as Foster wrote in a clever piece about Life and Religion in the school magazine 44 years ago, see I remember everything. But when I finish the piece and read it back I discover I’ve been riding in a chauffeur driven car and the words have taken me further than I thought and I’ve landed in a far far better place.

So I hope the journey for all my readers all over the place in 26 plus different countries is enjoyable. I also hope that though I really am the fat silver haired writer in shades from Birmingham that I am Ukrainian or Polish or Russian or French or Belgium or whatever nationality you are. Even English or American or a stray Canadian. Because I a Fool you can all relate too, and hopefully forgive, because I am one of you, though you may just say he’s from next door, wherever next door is.

I have to go now as Lech, Boris and Gregorgi want to bury me at night in the woods, just to see if their hounds can track me down. Otherwise they would have to blindfold their dogs, no they wouldn’t do that, they love their dogs so much. They may just blindfold me instead. This is my cartoon writing, if you are a cartoonist why not do some drawings then together we could be published in someplace far far away. Maybe I’ll get published in the Antarctic Times with cartoons by Uri from Russia, stranger things have happened, so bye for now I have to put my blindfold on, we are reenacting 50 Shades…