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Short stories from Birmingham readers in 162 countries so far HEAR ME READ ALOUD 207 stories written & read by me https://profile.typepad.com/michaelgcasey https://michaelgcasey.typepad.com/blog/
Friday, 30 March 2018
Thursday, 29 March 2018
Good Friday 2018
Good Friday 2018 (c)
By Michael Casey
If I were clever I would write about Jesus on the Cross and his sacrifice. I'd compare my own aches and pains to his, and say I was an utter fool for doing so. How could I compare myself to the Lord. No doubt some would burn me at the stake just for even mentioning such an idea even though it was just a passing thought, a half whispered muse, not even a thought.
That's the trouble with Religion, or rather People who abuse religion, all religion. Why, just so they can lie and cheat and steal their way to the top in the name of religion. Or rather their abuse of Power.
Jesus was all about that, all about showing up the lies and hypocrisies, and as in Winter Song, he got busted for befriending the wrong sort. So why is Good Friday good, because it wipes the slate clean and we can all try again.
You can find all sorts of people suffering on their own crosses, and the ugly sweaty dirty people may be the best Christians you will ever find. They may not wear the flash clothes and have the ultra bright teeth like American Evangelists have. They may not have the gift of fancy words and their only language may be foul bad language. But you may just find that these people the kind Jesus would hang out with are better people than the well educated smart people.
Give me a cursing drinking bad man, because he'll give you a lift in the desert. He'll help you when you are down and almost out. He'll help you out of pity. Whereas the Rich man the clever man, would only help you if he thinks there is something in it for him.
See Jesus in the common man, see Jesus hanging from a tree, in the ordinary people you meet like you and me. You don't need to look to high heaven to learn about Peace and Goodwill to all men. Peace comes from a stranger you meet on a bus, who listens when you need a friend to talk to but have none. Peace comes after all your pain when you realise though horrible, some people's valour puts you to shame.
So over Easter as you over indulge on the Cadbury's chocolate, and for some Easter justs means chocolate and not Jesus on a cross, so over Easter remember after death comes rebirth.
So every day is Easter, it's a chance for you and me to get closer together and put our sins and pain to one side and walk with Jesus into the Light of happiness and sharing and caring,
For when we have Faith, and it can be any faith, or just working men cursing each other, because deep down we are all sisters and brothers. So we should love one another.
By Michael Casey
If I were clever I would write about Jesus on the Cross and his sacrifice. I'd compare my own aches and pains to his, and say I was an utter fool for doing so. How could I compare myself to the Lord. No doubt some would burn me at the stake just for even mentioning such an idea even though it was just a passing thought, a half whispered muse, not even a thought.
That's the trouble with Religion, or rather People who abuse religion, all religion. Why, just so they can lie and cheat and steal their way to the top in the name of religion. Or rather their abuse of Power.
Jesus was all about that, all about showing up the lies and hypocrisies, and as in Winter Song, he got busted for befriending the wrong sort. So why is Good Friday good, because it wipes the slate clean and we can all try again.
You can find all sorts of people suffering on their own crosses, and the ugly sweaty dirty people may be the best Christians you will ever find. They may not wear the flash clothes and have the ultra bright teeth like American Evangelists have. They may not have the gift of fancy words and their only language may be foul bad language. But you may just find that these people the kind Jesus would hang out with are better people than the well educated smart people.
Give me a cursing drinking bad man, because he'll give you a lift in the desert. He'll help you when you are down and almost out. He'll help you out of pity. Whereas the Rich man the clever man, would only help you if he thinks there is something in it for him.
See Jesus in the common man, see Jesus hanging from a tree, in the ordinary people you meet like you and me. You don't need to look to high heaven to learn about Peace and Goodwill to all men. Peace comes from a stranger you meet on a bus, who listens when you need a friend to talk to but have none. Peace comes after all your pain when you realise though horrible, some people's valour puts you to shame.
So over Easter as you over indulge on the Cadbury's chocolate, and for some Easter justs means chocolate and not Jesus on a cross, so over Easter remember after death comes rebirth.
So every day is Easter, it's a chance for you and me to get closer together and put our sins and pain to one side and walk with Jesus into the Light of happiness and sharing and caring,
For when we have Faith, and it can be any faith, or just working men cursing each other, because deep down we are all sisters and brothers. So we should love one another.
Love and Chocolate from 2003 before our 2nd daughter arrived
The child in me , was always there , but the child in me is the child of mine fast asleep in the rocking chair . Her mum fast asleep beside her , another child swims around inside my wife’s belly waiting for his call to centre stage when he is ready to appear . So though I want to stay a child its time for me to grow up , but I decided I won’t . I’ll stay a child too , I’ll be a big kid , a 40 something big kid . Why waste my life being all grown up , I want to enjoy childhood forever and that is what I’ll teach my kids . Be a child forever , refuse to grow up , be a kid forever . Its more fun that way , why give up chocolate and pop ,just for grown up beer or wine and just an occasional treat . I know what tastes better , its pop and Cadbury’s , so I refuse to grow up . If I encourage my children to do the same then they’ll always have that quality that’ll make them different , more interesting than the bland “grown up “ qualities of adults , the pretend attitudes , the hidden lusts . Just be open and natural , that’s what I believe in and I hope my children will follow this example . Sure I want them to be clever and go to great universities and even win a Nobel Prize , but the greatest prize is a family love , a simple , perhaps even naïve love , which is based on the love of pop and chocolate .
Wednesday, 28 March 2018
I'm Not On Facebook but Still the World Pretends to Care
I’m Not On Facebook but Still the World Pretends to Care ©
By
Michael Casey
Yes, I’m not on Facebook, really, I was years ago but only mad people were attracted to me, so I gave it up. And yes MZ did send me a crate of Stella Artois as a thank you. Now I’m telling everybody to BUY his shares as they cannot go any lower, but what do I know about shares but my brother did do Economics at Cambridge though. So as Facebook is all over the news it did spring to mind as a subject to talk about. But I’m not on Facebook. Michael Casey the fat silver haired writer in shades from Birmingham is not on Facebook. Though like Mark Zuckerberg I do have a Chinese wife. I bet she is really kicking his a**&^ right now.
None of this is what I really want to talk about tonight, what I want talk about is why and how people pretend to be concerned about my Health. I get so much Junk Email, which I delete unread, but they pretend to love and care for me so much. It’s as if they read my stories here on https://butcherbakerundertaker.blogspot.co.uk and then send me junk emails inspired by what they have read. Now if Barron Trump has discovered me, as he is a computer whiz after all, maybe he’s concerned and sends me emails about Heart Attacks and Health Insurance. So if it is you Barron, thank you I am very touched, but just ask dad to retire and help you with your golf game during his Golden Years. Besides thank God and Xi the rocket man is going to give up his mad quest, so your dad can claim that Nobel Prize. So HE should retire and play golf with you.
I also get ads for Lyft, and I do not even hold a driving licence, I would not even be allowed to have one anyway due to my many aliments. You cannot drive a car if you could suddenly get a stabbing pain to the heart, which turns out to be Skeletal Muscular Pain. It’s nice to know its not a heart attack, its just like having Hitchcock’s Psycho suddenly and randomly attack you, as I’ve had a few times tonight. Its when it repeats itself spread over a whole day, that’s when Hitchcock stops being one of your favourite film directors.
Now no doubt I’ll get offers as an extra in films. I did actually meet a very big guy who was an extra in Gladiator, or some Roman action film. We both had cortisone injections on the same day back in 2013/4 If ever we finally film The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker he’d be right as Big Sid the Butcher, but that’s just a dream. Close but no Cigar is the story of my life as I said to my specialist at hospital today.
I also met a very nice 44 year old lady while I was waiting for the bus, I forgot to ask her name. We had a good natter on the 48 bus, so if she reads this I hope she gets in touch. She has lots of transportation knowledge and customer service experience, maybe she could get a part time job to fit in with her new obligations. But I won’t embarrass her too much. I was very impressed by her and her knowledge base. I did say I could end up mentioning her in a story. Though she may be saying to her friends she met this fat Santa Claus lookalike. I happened to be dressed all in red, like a Santa with the shaved beard. She did give me some advice, and NO it wasn’t fattie get lost you are boring me, nor stop sitting on my handbag. No she told me to buy a lottery ticket so I could afford to buy my dream house which the bus passed on the way home. So when Lent finishes I will take her advice and buy the lottery ticket.
Now I’ll get offers for bingo and lotteries galore in my email account. Microsoft scans emails so I’m now wondering is it Microsoft after all. Nobody is reading my stuff and then sending emails full of junk. Its Microsoft scanning my Blogger email that gets sent every time I write something. So that is my sad conclusion, people don’t care enough about me to send me junk emails. It’s dear old Microsoft reading my Blogger email about my latest post and then I get the glorious junk emails.
I still get the With Utmost Respect rubbish, and you have won, when its a link that’ll kill my computer. And dating rubbish, if somebody wants to seduce me they need to do it face to face, over the chilled food section in the supermarket. Emails don’t entice me. Read Shoplife my play its only 2quid on Amazon Kindle, that has lots of romance in a supermarket.
One of my sisters used to work in retail as the posh call shop work, and a friend from work Dave Eaton used to work in retail before he ended up working with me in computers. And both said Shoplife was so very true. While I’m on the subject if anybody who is reading knows Andrew LLoyd Webber my play Shoplife could easily be turned into a musical. And then I’d be financially secure till I die.
I also get junk about Life Insurance, nobody would cover me, and I have no money. Books on Amazon do NOT mean money, go to KDP and see how easy it is to have a book on Amazon. Writing is easy,as is using KDP, but actually sales, now that is almost impossible. And yes I’ll get ads for publishing your book, only 1000 dollars now. KDP costs NOTHING, so everybody should use that and then hope Rupert Murdoch stumbles over you. My only hope is that when Rupert is chatting to Donald then Barron Trump interrupts to say that Michael Casey is a funny fat silver haired writer in shades from Birmingham England. Though the reality is that I’ll get even more adverts for sunglasses. Real Raybays for only 10 dollars instead of 120dollars.
All in all you can see I just attract junk, like a clothes brush, or is it a Devil Duster. I’m a dandruff collector. So as the millions leave Facebook if only they would come and visit my sites. I have 26 different countries at least and I watch the map turn green on my Blogger site and on my Wordpress site. If only the Facebook refugees went to me. https://www.amazon.com/Michael-Casey/e/B00571G0YC
If I could make a few quid. But now I’ll get offers from Lyft again, or money laundering galore job offers. Or stuffing envelopes, or meeting girls from X Y and Z. But that’s enough it’s time to go to bed. My pain levels have lessened now so I’ll try and sleep. I am glad I met that nice lady today, talking to a stranger can be very therapeutic, though it may have made her head straight to the off licence. I forgot to tell her I spent 20+ years working for a market research company into alcohol sales. StatsMR which became part of ACNielsen.
Now that’s more than enough for tonight, Easter hols start tomorrow so I’ll be the housewife the more while my girls are on holiday. Though one has her exams after the holidays so she’ll need pasta and chocolate in large quantities while she revises. But I would not mind if Occado sent those to me. Instead I’ll just get email advice about not eating too much, and how to brush your teeth. My own advice to the Dentist my daughter’s best friend is try Downing Cambridge, if it was good enough for my brother I’m sure they’d love to have him.
this is my dream house in b17 id i win the lotter
this is my dream house in b17 id i win the lotter
Tuesday, 27 March 2018
State of Play
State of Play. Its tuesday night, I've seen the American a 2010 Clooney film, worth a watch
and yes I need a pain killer before bedtime. Tomorrow I have kidney specialist appointment plus 2 viewings for my house.
I may write about Happy Endings tomorrow wednesday when i sit down here in my chair.
So you have all been warned.
A big thank you to Canada again for passing by, I enjoy all the map being shaded in as my words creep all over the world.
That's about it for tonight. As every if you have clever kids tell them Pain Relief is the only worthy occupation. From Doctors to Comedians and Patch Adams in between.
And yes when my boat comes in I will build that Pain Relief centre here in Birmingham.
Though some nights I feel as if I might die, yes it really does hurt that much.
Yes millions of others have much more pain, I just bitch more eloquently, so be nice to your old grannie etc.
and yes I need a pain killer before bedtime. Tomorrow I have kidney specialist appointment plus 2 viewings for my house.
I may write about Happy Endings tomorrow wednesday when i sit down here in my chair.
So you have all been warned.
A big thank you to Canada again for passing by, I enjoy all the map being shaded in as my words creep all over the world.
That's about it for tonight. As every if you have clever kids tell them Pain Relief is the only worthy occupation. From Doctors to Comedians and Patch Adams in between.
And yes when my boat comes in I will build that Pain Relief centre here in Birmingham.
Though some nights I feel as if I might die, yes it really does hurt that much.
Yes millions of others have much more pain, I just bitch more eloquently, so be nice to your old grannie etc.
Finally as my daughter is doing Maths behind me with the Dentist over the phone here's a maths puzzle.
mc=4c work it out and win a prize.
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 2nd 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.
Monday, 26 March 2018
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.
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
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