Saturday, 20 July 2019

having a rest

having a rest,had a few more ideas to add to the latest Lech,Boris and Gregorgi story. Stumbled over a writer, and also stumbled over an icon, and my story is about an icon, so there's a coincidence for you. As I'm having down time, the story will be different to what I had in my head in the first place, it's always the way. Below are the maps of some of the countries reading today.
so thank you all


Pageviews by Countries




Entry
Canada

France

United Kingdom

Russia

United States

Pageviews by Countries




EntryPageviews
United Kingdom

United States

Japan

Russia

Ukraine



Friday, 19 July 2019

Welcoming Lebanon

Welcoming Lebanon to  the fold, the Michael Casey Bemused Readers Club

I don't know who you are, or how you found me but you are most welcome

I even uploaded a French translation of 

The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker  to Amazon so you may want to

  buy that with your Lebanon Pounds.

https://www.amazon.fr/dp/B072F1SM1M


or just go for the original English

https://www.amazon.co.uk/l/B00571G0YC


either way, you are all welcome

I get lonely just talking to myself.

Stay Happy, and pray for me every day

maybe my writing will improve...

Michael Casey

the fat silver haired writer in shades from Birmingham England













Thursday, 18 July 2019

Me holding and award for French, but not mine

Me holding an award for French, but not mine.

Prize giving tonight, my small daughter got an award for French.
I told her I’d get an Oscar one day, but not for  over acting.
I’ll finish my Lech, Boris and Gregorgi story maybe tomorrow


kitchen ballet dad
persianBBUPORTUGUESE BBU2019China BBU-convertedChina BBU-convertedВ поисках индийской принцессыWydanie polskie Still Alive 2015win Wiersze dla wszystkichThe Polish TranslationsThe Polish Translationspolish Guardian AngelPolish Edition of Still Alive 2015Michael Casey The Polish Translations페이지 1 Quick Stories KOREAN아직도 살아있는 2015ページ1 Quick Stories in Japaneseインドのプリンセスを検索するにはインドのプリンセスを検索するには – CopyЭТО МОЙ ЛИФТ ADСтраница 1shoplife spanishJapanese elevator AdvertBBU GermanBBU French50 Spanish Examples50 Spanish Examplesbbumar2008-en-zh-cn-1BBUMar2008.en.zh-CN (1)BBU in HebrewBBU in Arabic300 وmy new bedBBU Russian Translation microsoft wordBBU in KOREANBBU GermanBBU French50 Spanish ExamplesKOREAN TRANSLATION Still Alive 2015The Polish TranslationsSpanish BBU아직도 살아있는 2015아직도 살아있는 2015아직도 살아있는 2015

1st part of Lech, Boris and Gregorgi Chase a Thief

Lech, Boris and Gregorgi Chase a Thief ©
By
Michael Casey

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


Wednesday, 17 July 2019

Lech, Boris and Gregorgi will return

Lech, Boris and Gregorgi will return

Lech, Boris and Gregorgi will return
I wanted to write another story about the Polish, Ukrainian and Russian first cousins and today I got the idea as I was scanning the newspapers.
No clues, let’s hope my writing skills do the boys justice.
The boys are back in town.

come back in a day or so, and then all will be revealed

Translations
persianBBUPORTUGUESE BBU2019China BBU-convertedChina BBU-convertedВ поисках индийской принцессыWydanie polskie Still Alive 2015win Wiersze dla wszystkichThe Polish TranslationsThe Polish Translationspolish Guardian AngelPolish Edition of Still Alive 2015Michael Casey The Polish Translations페이지 1 Quick Stories KOREAN아직도 살아있는 2015ページ1 Quick Stories in Japaneseインドのプリンセスを検索するにはインドのプリンセスを検索するには – CopyЭТО МОЙ ЛИФТ ADСтраница 1shoplife spanishJapanese elevator AdvertBBU GermanBBU French50 Spanish Examples50 Spanish Examplesbbumar2008-en-zh-cn-1BBUMar2008.en.zh-CN (1)BBU in HebrewBBU in Arabic300 وmy new bedBBU Russian Translation microsoft wordBBU in KOREANBBU GermanBBU French50 Spanish ExamplesKOREAN TRANSLATION Still Alive 2015The Polish TranslationsSpanish BBU아직도 살아있는 2015아직도 살아있는 2015아직도 살아있는 2015

Tuesday, 16 July 2019

Caught in the Act




Caught in the Act ©
By 
Michael Casey

I had an idea for a story last night as I lay in bed, I was thinking of Trump, no not in that way, you’ll have to sign a non-disclosure form if you think that weirdly. No I was thinking about his RACISM, though no Republicans have any honour as they have as yet failed to call him out. Remember too, all the Birther nonsense, remember too my kids are ½ Chinese just as Mr Hunt’s over here in the UK are. So it is just plain WRONG what is going on. Maybe Twitter should ban him.

Anyway the story was going to be a Parable where a white arrogant man nearly gets killed in a road traffic accident, using his Twitter instead of looking where he was going. Only an old smelly tramp pushes him out the way, so the tramp dies. The tramp is well known a fixture in the area. So old Joe is mourned, much much more than the arrogant guy would be. But the surgeons do their best and the arrogant man is saved. The surgeon is a Muslim, the nurses are Catholic, and the assistant surgeon is Jewish, in fact all the faiths patch up the arrogant man. The cleaners, the janitors have many faiths and none. They gather at first to pray for old Joe, and they want to curse the arrogant man, but instead they pray for him, and hope that old Joe goes straight to Heaven where he’ll always be fed and loved.

Old Joe arrives in Heaven and thanks the Angels as they wash his feet and dry it with their hair. Then sweet smelling oils are massaged into old Joe’s feet. Joe says thank you, and asks the Angels to save the life of the arrogant man who is now on the operating table, instead of being dead like Old Joe.  Old Joe can only ever say good things about people, in life and now in death.

So the Angels look down and see the staff praying, so they say they will have a word with the Boss. Now the arrogant man is tormented in his dreams as he lies on the operating table, in fact he has a vision of Hell. Nobody will mourn him, they brownnosed him while he was alive, but nobody would visit him in hospital, and there would be a funeral with nobody crying a single tear. 

The arrogant man is left to recover all alone in a side room, nobody cares for him. Just a single Black Hospital Visitor comes as stands at the food of his bed. Jesus loves all of us, even me, even you, I will pray that you recover and become a humble man in Jesus’s own image. Humble and Respectful, full of love for all your fellow men, the Black, the White and all Colours in between, for the Straight and the Gay, for every which way. For God Loves all of us. Then the Black hospital visitor drew a cross on the forehead of the arrogant man.

The arrogant man screamed a long and loud scream, as if he was dying in pain. The surgeons came running. The arrogant man was as scared as a little boy. He touched me, he touched me he screamed. Who the surgeons asked, a Black man, he said he was a hospital visitor, the arrogant man pointed at Jose. Jose was a Latino, Jose pointed at himself. No standing behind you. They looked behind Jose and there was nobody, only a life size picture of a Black man, a Black hospital visitor. It was a picture of San Martin de Porres. Jose had put it on the wall, as the room was so bare.

Him, him he was standing over me, he drew a cross on my forehead. The Muslim surgeon and the Jewish surgeon looked at the Catholic nurses, and others who had come running in answer to the arrogant man’s screams. Well it seems not only have you got the best medical attention on Earth, but also the best in Heaven. And knowing Old Joe as we do, we are sure he asked San Martin de Porres to try and get you into Heaven, but first to fix you here on earth.

The arrogant man was in hospital for weeks, no earthly visitors, just a Black man who came and talked to him every night.  San Martin de Porres was known for his gentleness. If it had been Padre Pio, maybe he’d have boxed the arrogant man’s ears just like Don Camillo. Luckily the arrogant man had San Martin de Porres visit. The arrogant man became best friends with Jose,  the cleaners and the janitors who passed by his bed. When he left hospital he was a changed man, no more the arrogant man, but a humble man.

I set off with one story and I ended up writing this one, the original one more or less. So God really does work in mysterious ways. And yes Trump is the arrogant man, so perhaps we should Pray for him, to Change and become a better man, and a much better President, for God knows the World deserves better. And I naively hope if just one of my stories could touch a frozen heart I really wish this could be that story.






Monday, 15 July 2019

Who is this Michael Casey Anyway?


Who is this Michael Casey Anyway? ©

By Michael Casey

If you have seen Carry On Up the Khyber from 1968 maybe then you may understand me better. So find the film on Utube and then come back to me. My writing has lots of influences and variants all mixed in, as well as just plain old daftness. Google Ken Dodd and The Two Ronnies, and Around the Horne and Kenny Everett, Tom Sharpe books too, with Don Camillo as well. Add salt and shake well and have a few pints of Stella Artois too and then you’ll begin to understand. Though some people in my local stores just think it’s that fat fool again, and ever so glad he’s left the shop again. They don’t want to listen and don’t know which tangent I’m referring to.

So I was wondering how do my 60 Nationalities understand me, or tolerate me, and when they are reading The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker in 7 different languages on the same day, or my stuff in English, what are they thinking? Or do they wish I’d go back to where I came from and play a round of golf with Donald Trump instead, instead of polluting their minds in their countries with my rubbish.
Why I this Michael Casey always wearing women’s clothing, should we send him an email offering clothes at a discount from Aunty Sally’s shop in Saudi, or maybe give him a discount from Mighty Mary’s clothing store in Morroco? Why does he boast that he is a bigger bum than Trump, or is there a hidden meaning in what he is saying?

Why is he always looking for a Korean Kpop girl to come and type for him, is he so poor he cannot afford a speed typist or a legal secretary. 48 hours over 12 weeks to write Tears for a Butcher sequel? Or is he just addicted to Kdrama, is he some form of TV addict. Should his mother throw a bucket of ice cold water over him and tell him to Go Outside this Fine Day and play.

But instead what does he do? This Michael Casey  just removes his clothes and streaks all around his neighbourhood, frightening the neighbours, or maybe they just laugh at his lack of accomplishments, and grown men are jealous or is it worried. How would I know I’m just a reader, and thank God this is Radio not TV, or I’d have to borrow that  bucket that the ice cold water was thrown from by his mother. But I’d be puking into it, the sight  of his tight fat fair bum would overwhelm me, I’d just puke. Though I would have to lock up my daughters of marriageable age, Mad Dogs and Englishmen showing their bum in the Midday Sun, would turn their heads, and I’d never want Michael Casey as part of my family. Though I do know a Korean Kpop girl who might be interested, I’m joking now, it would be like Beauty and the Beast, which would be an even more improbable Kdrama  in itself.

Improbable that sums up Michael Casey, think of a number, add the number of brothers and sisters you have, divide by 4 and add 3 and then you have the number you first thought of. And if Michael Casey could remember that puzzle from 50 years ago, then you really would be impressed. But you are not, because he always disappoints, a bit like a boyfriend who’s being talking in Metric and like any English girl you want feet and inches. And I’m talking about the size of his extension.

This Michael Casey, and you should all be speaking in a fake Indian accent like in Carry On Up the Khyber throughout as you read this, this Mr Michael Casey he leads you this way but takes you that way, rather like a very bad or drunk dancer. You expect this from him, but you get that from him, when really you wanted the udder, yes you are so very thirsty so you wanted a bit of the udder, goats milk is so very refreshing after all. He misdirects, like a badly trained Policeman, points this way but sends you up the garden path, where you meet Gill with a G from StatsMR, who is this Lady anyway? She is a friend of this Michael Casey, she lays paths and plants roses, she hangs out with workmen bringing them tea, English tea in cups, not mugs, because Gill is a Lady. And  Roses do grow on You.

Now wherever you are in the world reading this I hope it gives you an idea of what to expect. I do also write A to B stories too, which do go via Z as well, but blame the taxi driver who cannot read, but in his head he does have 1000 routes. I have 2000+stories down on paper and more in my head, variety is the spice of life and I hope when you stumble over me and my stories you decide to come back. I also hope you approve that I support the little guy and the far from perfect people, because I do believe that the Person is not the Package their body is held in. The Laughter and Mind and level of Kindness is what matter, not how cruel people see them. We all belong where we are, and there is no going back.












Portuguese Translations

Humour Writing by the fat silver haired writer in shades from Birmingham England read in 167 countries so far https://www.amazon.co.uk/Micha...