Thursday, 20 February 2020

back to life

back to life

well a very busy few weeks for us here in Birmingham

so I can relax a bit now

Eric Clapton is singing River of Tears

If I knew which saint to pray to in order to get Corrupt Trump removed

then I'd be on my knees

Trump is pardoning all sorts at the moment

Wikileaks says tonight in UK papers that

Trump offered a PARDON if Wikileaks denied Russia DID Help

https://www.theguardian.com/media/2020/feb/19/donald-trump-offered-julian-assange-pardon-russia-hack-wikileaks

Obviously Trump denies everything

We cannot wait for History to Prove Trump a liar

He lies so much, is it 15,000 lies so far?

A USA press place keeps track

Sadly some in USA have the attention span of a goldfish

And that's how Trump gets away with it

It's time to escape the Gold Fish Bowl

And be a Loch Ness monster

Hitler and Mussolini and their ilk won because people

laughed at them at first, and we know where that ended.

Mother Russia lost 40,000,000 souls

So you can  understand how and why they behaved the way they did/do

yes 40,000,000 souls

If you studied Russia History for 5 minutes your eyes would be opened

Instead Trump is allowed to rule, because of  single issue backers

And does Trump believe in anything?

Just the power of his own makeup covering his conceit and contempt

for EVERYBODY.

God complex gone bad

Where are all those Patriots who left office but do NOTHING

except hawk book deals.

As USA Nobility is destroyed, a few good men, try to sell books

When they should be creating a Tsunami to wash Trump away

Perhaps too much Politics, but I have watched this Blood Sport

for 50 years since I was a kid with my dad, cursing all those

useless people, who never sweated. Dad worked in a steelworks




Tuesday, 18 February 2020

Weather Vane


Weather Vane ©
By
Michael Casey

Now, Storm Dennis has been a Menace, just like the kids cartoon of the same name, our 2nd storm in as many weeks. So after I ventured out past the barricades, Virgin Media are digging up the pavement outside, I sit here and think what shall I write about, sorry talk about, today. Then Weather Vane comes to mind, though I may not actually talk about the weather, I’ll leave that to pundits, I hope I’ll write something more interesting and better, though you’ll be the judge, as ever. So Settle Down Now, as an old comedian used to say, as Eric Clapton sings for me as I talk to you. Clapton lounge singer, though I did meet him once, but I’ll save that story.

Clapton is drowning in a river of tears. We all can when events overwhelm you, when bureaucrats put paper before people, you’ve all had your own battles, but what I want to talk about today is how do you overcome them. Events blow, and we are that battered Weather Vane on the roof, we spin and shake and may almost be blown away from our place on the roof, on the committee, in the family, at work or anywhere, or even amongst safe old fashioned church politics.

So how do we survive, we may pray, pray like crazy, or just have a good old session with the local ride, in all senses of the word. Or we visit Nice Nelly, who is such a good listener, she is blind but she can see far better than authority. She is also very very fat, and her dog Dougal too. How do you reward a blind lady? You give her food, the very best of food, and even arrange for a sighted cleaner to come twice a week. Nelly listens, she does not miss a heart beat, her sightless eyes, and wonderful ears, as good as any dogs, listen and dissect. She’ll solve your problem, she is patient and kind, and has all the time in the world. She used to be a Litigator in another life but a random act of violence took her sight away. But now though sightless she feels God has given her the chance to do something useful with her life. She is a listener, and thanks God for the opportunity to be of use to the world. Before she used to extract blood from a stone, for profit. But now she extracts Love, Hope and Charity, and spreads it all around. She is better than any therapist.

We all have such a person somewhere in our lives, it may be a friend, a relative, or a random stranger on a bus, paths cross and wisdom is revealed, and you never meet that stranger again. Was it an Angel, an angel with a dirty face, a smelly fat silver haired man in shades on the bus to Birmingham? Was it the man or young girl you thought would rob you in the dark. But a big smile shone out of the darkness, in every sense of the word and saved you, saved you from stepping into a giant puddle, and saved you from your dilemma.

Life blows us, sometimes there is a gentle breeze on our face on a summer day, sometimes there is blinding freezing hail cutting our face as we walk uphill home from work. The weather vane spins, but with hope, friends and love we get back to our True North. So what I’m trying to say is that, you’ll be swamped and even almost Water Boarded by Life, but you can and will survive. You don’t have to be a Hero or Legend, two very over used and over rated words, no you just soldier on quietly. Dig out your own Nice Nelly, and cherish her and her dog. Simple unassuming ordinary or even boring people are the extraordinary people in this life, and I’ve been very lucky indeed to meet some in my life.
Let the wind blow, but know this my mother used to Bless the Wind and tell it to be calm. Just as some other guy you may have heard of used to do when he was out fishing with his mates. The storm may batter the weather vane, but there is only one way up.










Monday, 17 February 2020

Curtains for Casey

Curtains for Casey

well my man came and put up the curtain rail

so you'll be seeing me and my birds nest curtains very soon

we are a Chinese/Irish family after all

my small daughter was out for the day with her aunty

so I'll be boasting of my achievement

It was nice to see all the Russians reading my rubbish

so welcome to them

I am Napoleon advancing through the snow with my comic stories

I write for the world and I have such a spread, and not just my belly

me and my 118 kilos. I think I have ballet dancer legs, as they are so strong

which was useful for the bypass.

So thank you Mother Russia for reading all my rubbish, The Spaceman and the Archangel is also on my sites. About a Russian cosmonaut who becomes storyteller to the world from space.

Then the Lech, Boris and Gregorgi stories are about a trio of cousins who are Polish Ukrainian and Russian who have adventures, I think I written 10 stories featuring them. Perfect for cartoons, or tv. So go seek them out

I could become a cult in Mother Russia, THOUGH you may think I'm just a fat silly guy. Anyway stay happy and remember in the Bible it says forgive not 7 times but 77x7 . So if you don't like one story I have 1000s of others.
I could annoy Russia every day with a story over the Internet, live show with me sat here at my desk broadcasting via a HD camera, if Putin cares to send me one. But he's too busy, praying Trump does not get re-elected. I would love a small icon, if we are talking about praying. One of my Lech Boris and Gregorgi stories involves the theft of a Holy Icon so the trio have to save it, before art stealers spirit it out of the country. Andrew Graham Dixon also gets a mention as he is the premier art guy in Uk, I sound like his agent.

Enough now, thanks again to Mother Russia, every reader is special, if only my readers matched my words. 1,576,000 was the total word count yesterday when I checked. Though I have readers in 80 Countries now, and up to 9 or 10 Translations in a day are being read with 1000s of free downloads too. I need to magnify the readership, so spam all your friends.

And let everybody suffer the world over, equal suffering for all.
Then maybe just maybe rewards will come my way.

Though Health is the Only thing of Value, and that's all I really need









from Russia with love

From Russia with love

well the Russian readers were out in force last night perhaps they liked the

Red Shoes plus Birmingham is Ballet where Anton Bollockoff is the hero and the master of his art, a Russian Ballet dancer, and much more
go and read the story for yourselves. I can see it being filmed already, so don't forget this writer wants 10% of the gross.

on wordpress  USA, Egypt, Australia, Germany,UK and India

on Blogger RUSSIA, UAE, Belgium, India and Philippines

so far today.

So my readers are world wide, but sadly none of you can whisper in Jeff Bezo's ear, and say Michael Casey. His Picard is great by the way I've seen 4 episodes so far. THough a  Picard could be a metaphor....






 and yes this is my chest, though now I have a hernia at the top, just in case I BS you, what you see is what you get.

Sunday, 16 February 2020

The Courage to Sing

The Courage to Sing

The Courage to Sing (c)
By
Michael Casey

Well it’s 16th Feb now, and the Red Shoes Ballet at the Birmingham Hippodrome was great, the music induced a tear. Today the pain monster in my back/hips is inducing near tears, and loads of pain. That’s the sine curve of pain, totally random pain, on randomly chosen parts of my body. As I sit here in my chair, I wanted to write something new, and not just post a repeat, and as Celine Dion started to sing, the choice of subject rose its head from the barricades of pain.

You do have to have courage to sing, so as Les Mis comes to both our minds, you can start singing that to yourself, as I talk to you, above Celine’s voice. To sing is to doubly praise as Saint Cecilia says, though in S&G’s song was Cecilia a bad girlfriend or worse? Then Cecilia broke hearts, if you can remember the song. A good song sung well can break hearts, can touch as much as the music from The Red Shoes touched me yesterday. Or in a play, you can shed tears as the play unfolds. We saw the theatre version of The Lovely Bones recently and I was shocked to by core by the performance and sat with tears falling, I had forgotten the film version, so I was not prepared.

So Art, can and does touch the parts that only some lagers do. If you have a pint or three you will be inclined to sing, but otherwise you have to have a good spirit before you can sing. You cannot sing when you are sad or dealing with a crisis, just as I cannot write if I’m sad, or yet another USA shooting horror overwhelms us all, nobody wants to sing at a funeral.

Yes great songs can be sung at at funeral, and the Lazarus reading usually read at funerals is very touching, Jesus wept. Generally to sing you have to be happy. If you are happy and you know it clap your hands, if you are happy and you know it stamp your feet, and so on as the song goes. Songs are ways to defy tyranny, they unite and bind us, from union songs, to slave songs and all manner of songs, from sea shanties to songs of war. To rallying cries and more, from I’m a Yankee Doodle Dandy to Over There to the Yanks are coming, or here in Britain We’ll Meet Again.

But Out of the Depths I Cry to Thee Lord, may be the start, when we are flat on our back, when we are crawling like worms in the dirt, when there is no hope, when we are battered and broken, and beaten. By life, by lack of hope, when we are at the end of our rope,, when we might be tempted to use a rope. Then a song, a noise, a hum, a voice might cut through our darkness and give a glimmer of hope, somebody or something offers a rope ladder out of our pit of despair. Then the only way is up, just like the song from years ago.

We have the courage to begin to sing, to hold that hand that reaches down to the gutter, and lets us look at the stars, Oscar or David, or whoever it is. We have the courage to sing, it can be anything, away in a manger, if it is Christmas, or a rugby song, a spiritual, or a really obscene song, it does not matter. The point is it lifts us up, there is a song that we love and whenever we hear it we feel better. My favourite song is The Windmills of Your Mind, from the 1968 Thomas Crown Affair. I just love it, and if you’ve read some of my 1,500,000 plus words you can understand. I was Sancho Panza and my master did tilt at windmills after all.

A song is a shock to the heart, it makes us skip a beat, or kick starts our emotions, our feelings, if we have no feelings then we are dead already. So a song, and being able to sing is evidence of life and hope and love. We sing to our children to reassure them, to keep the bedbugs away, or whatever. It brings joy and happiness to them. We sing in the darkness as we wait for the power to come back on. To sing is to have a heartbeat, they say you should keep on talking to a coma victim. But you should also sing to yourself to whistle while you work.

I have music surrounding me all my life, and now with Tinnitus coming out to play and attack me for 18 months and more, music and song is so important. In the dark of the night I have no Cecilia, just music playing till exhaustion gets me, then I sleep. You can make up your own Cecilia references. I hope you recognise that when you are down and nearly out, you do need a bridge over troubled water. And that bridge is song, a song will inspire, and ease your weary bones, it will come on baby light your fire, just little little embers being blown in the wind, but it is the answer.

So sing to somebody, have a sing song, whistle while you work, be the sparrow singing in your family, in your neighbourhood. Then rejoice rejoice Emmanuel, because you have learnt to love again. The shadows of sorrow and pain have been banished, by a simple song of sixpence.





Saturday, 15 February 2020

The Red Shoes

The Red Shoes, was the ballet me and my small daughter went to see  at the Hippodrome here in Birmingham today.
Obviously we stopped at the Subway sandwich shop first
So a big thank you to Subway

The Ballet was great, do go and visit our ballet here in Birmingham England if you ever get the chance.

I have actually had a drink or two with, a stage hand, a few years ago. I was also vetted by a Ballerina too many years before that.

So give ballet a try, don't be nasty, the boys in tights have more muscles than you and all your pumped up iron. A real man, can and will take his girl to the ballet. So to tempt you tonight I'm bringing back Birmingham is Ballet.

Also thanks to Iraq and Saudi and Singapore too for dropping by tonight over on my Wordpress. At some point we will reach critical Mass, and then the tsunami of words will flood the world, and then I'll really get to work.


Birmingham is Ballet ©
By
Michael Casey

If you have been following me on my site you’ll know that the pain monster attacked at 4am this morning, I had a cuppa and as I’d managed to waken my daughter I told her about this story. It will actually form a chapter in Tears for a Butcher the comic sequel to The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker, assuming I get around to doing it. I have a vain hope that I could borrow a legal secretary, then in 12 weeks the sequel would be done. I’ll just sit and dictate it.

Now why Ballet? Well as you should also know my wife’s first friend in Birmingham was a ballerina from the Birmingham Royal Ballet. I was vetted in a straight bar in the Gay Quarter of Birmingham, by the ballerina herself. The bar is called The Queens Tavern, you can have a beer there next time you are in Birmingham at the ballet, it’s just up the side of the Hippodrome Theatre past the Subway sandwich place.

Now if you put your 4 pints of Stella down on the coffee table Boris, and those three Subway sandwiches, eating alone again, then I’ll begin. Remember as ever these are all my copyrighted ideas.

Catherine and Damien were ecstatic they had scored top marks in the Law exam, in fact along with their friends, Peter and Paul all four had scored top marks. All because one of the partners suggested they go to visit Marcus in the old people’s home, the one owned by The Old Forge and Singing Anvil Coop, but that’s another story which I’ll tell you later. But you may need another 10 pints of Stella Artois and 6 more Subway sandwiches Boris, but Annie can clear the table away for you, or Bettie her twin sister.

Now where was I, yes Catherine and Damien and the other two had visited Marcus in the home, after his stroke he needed a little help but otherwise he still had it. So with Marcus’s help the four of them scored the highest ever scores in the Birmingham Law exams. Now it is a tradition that the Law firm that gets the best results gets a bottle of whisky from the other firms. As you may know if you wander around Saint Phillips cathedral area, we have a lot of lawyers in Birmingham. Obviously I worked at the best firm, Pinsent Masons, but I digress.

So back to the tale, grace a Marcus as the French might say, the foyer of Catherine’s company was littered with whisky. Not bottles but cases of the stuff. As her company the gained the top 4 spots, the other firms thought it was only fair to send not a bottle but a case of whisky. I am probably underestimating the figure, but 30 firms sending 30 cases of whisky, equals 360 bottles of whisky.

The senior partner arrived and raised half an eyebrow. It’s the legal results Sir, explained Tony on Security. We got a case instead of a bottle seeing as we did so well. 360 bottles. Yes Sir 360 bottles, litre ones too. The senior partner smiled, well if you put 5 cases upstairs in the boardroom. And the rest Sir? Well if I remember rightly it’s your Regimental Reunion soon, would it be an imposition if I asked you to dispose of it. 300 bottles may be a little too much to ask you to dispose of? I suppose we might find a good home for it all. Thank you Tony, said the senior partner. The senior partner stopped for a second, no he hadn’t changed his mind, oh by the way, ask Maggie our cleaning lady for the hangover cure, it works wonders, so I am well informed, touching his nose as he skipped away smiling. It was a happy ship their firm, one big happy family.

So the night of the Regimental Reunion arrived, Tony had hired a room in the local bar, in the corner the prize, 25 cases of whisky. Not your rubbish stuff from Asda or any other supermarket. 40 year old malt whisky, they were lawyers after all, they had standards to maintain. In a neighboring bar Catherine and the others were celebrating too. Catherine and Damien were having a quiet fag, when 3 lads asked could they have a light, when Catherine held out her lighter one grabbed her arm, they were going to be robbed. Catherine let out a scream, one of the lads pulled a knife.

Inside the Regimental Reunion things were going well, very well in fact, half the Tonys were tipsy.Ex army tend to work as security in Law Firms, and they always but always are called Tony,its almost like a religious cult. Ex army,law firms and the name Tony. If you don’t believe me ask Tony Cruise,the action film guy, is real name is Tony by the way. Catherine’s scream was heard, and like a mother running to save her baby half the room exited. But they were too late, blood had been spilled and bodies were on the floor.

Somebody else had heard Catherine’s call, it was a ballet dancer new in town, like a new gun slinger. It was Anton Bollockoff from Russia. He had dashed and pranced and pranced and dashed, three times in fact. He had kicked them high and low, and low and high and high and low again. The assassins were on the floor bleeding. Are you ok, my dear said Anton looking into Catherine’s eyes and she looked into his. It was thunder and lightning, may I introduce myself. Damien screamed,the Tonys ran faster, as fast as 40 year old malt whisky allows you. You are THE Aton Bollockoff, the ballet dancer, screamed Damien, he was so excited. He had been rescued by THE Anton Bollockoff, nobody would believe him down the gay bar.

The Tonys arrived and bounced the three criminals against a wall or two. You are banned from Birmingham yelled a RSM, another Tony took their photos, do you hear me YOU ARE BANNED FROM BIRMINGHAM, yelled the RSM. Now get lost, he would have used stronger language, the kind RSM have qualifications in but there was a lady present. Damien explained all. Tony from Catherine’s law firm thanked Anton Bollockoff if ever you need a favour just ask, you saved one of my girls and boys, I owe you.

Anton Bollockoff knew when to leap so he leapt. If I could get into a good Italian restaurant tonight with the beautiful lady that would reward enough. Catherine swooned, delayed shock, Anton caught her in his arms. This was love at first sight, and the Tonys were there to see it, Damien was slightly disappointed, but he believed in love, he has watched Moulin Rouge 12 times already.

So Tony took their photos too, he explained henceforth they were on the Angel list, never wait, straight to Heaven at any place in Birmingham where there was security. As for the 3 bad guys, they were on the Hell list, forever barred. Photos were appearing on mobiles all over Birmingham as he spoke.

So thanking the Tonys, Damien, Catherine and Anton Bollockoff made their way across town to the new gay bar and then to the Italian restaurant. Were they afraid of meeting any nasty people along the way? No because Anton was with them. Besides every security camera along the way was following them and as they passed every bar and eatery a security guy or girl waved and spoke into their radio. It was as if the Queen was strolling by, with security watching.

Damien had everything, a bright future in the law beckoned, but he wanted love. And you cannot buy love. He waved Catherine and Anton away as he queued outside of the new happening gay bar. He had a slight tear in his eye, all he wanted was somebody to love. He’d have a great future but without somebody to share it with. He brushed a tear of envy away from his eye. At that moment Martin appeared, Martin was the head of security, he was just checking the lines. Do you want a tissue he asked as he handed Damien a tissue, then looking at his phone he said, you are on the Angel list come with me.

Once inside Damien had a cocoa with Martin, you can’t have alcohol while you are working after all. Damien offloaded his life to Martin, it turned out that as well as being a body builder, Martin’s dad was a lawyer. Only they had argued so Martin ended up having a security company instead of a law firm. They say that God works in mysterious ways, but that night they had found each other, 60 years they were together, but I’ll leave the future to God.

Meanwhile Anton Bollockoff and Catherine were walking hand in hand through the backstreets till they arrived at the best Italian Restaurant in Birmingham. All the time security cameras and doormen charting their progress. The Regimental Reunion was I full swing, Tony was happy his eyes were everywhere protecting his children.

At Don Camillo’s Anton and Catherine instinctively queued, a security giant and his small blonde pig-tailed girlfriend ushered them in. Paolo was a ballet nut and when he saw walked through the door he screamed. The best table in the house given to them, best food and wine was produced. Catherine was all loved up, here in front of her was THE Anton Bollockoff from Russia. He was wearing a very tight shirt and even tighter cream coloured trousers. She was in love in lust and in love again.

People would have asked for autographs but one look from the pig-tailed security girl stopped that. Paolo refused payment, Anton said why not come to the ballet tomorrow for a full dress rehearsal, and the nice security people. So it was settled. Anton told Paulo to step outside then he asked Catherine to lean on a lamppost.

What happened next cannot really be explained by a ballet baby such as I. But I will do my best, with Paolo standing on the steps of his restaurant Anton floated back and forth only to return to stroke Catherine’s hair, her face and shoulders. Away and return, away and return. A crowd of hundreds appeared, held back by security. This went on and on and on, like singing in the rain but without the rain, this is Birmingham not Manchester after all. Anton stroked her hair, her face, her shoulders, her behind, her breast, her thighs. Ever so gently, ever so romantically. Women and men fainted in the crowd, erotic dancing, ballet dancing while fully clothed. Catherine’s breathing increased, the crowds breathing increased. Anton Bollockoff was making love to every woman in the crowd.

Finally it was just too much, 40 mins of balletic foreplay, Anton stroked a stroke too far. Catherine wheeled and sprung, she tore his shirt off in the street, Bollockoff shirt off in the street. This would be The Sun’s headline in the morning. She jumped on him and began to devour him on the bench outside the old church that was was now a 70s disco nightclub. For God’s sake get her to the church on time.

The security saved the day as ever, the couple, it was close but not quiet, the couple were grabbed and carried up the street to the Novotel. They were flung through the doors of the Presidential suite. But then something wonderful happened as they stood naked in front of each other. Not the urge, the urge was there, very much there. They just showered together and each other but then they stopped, naked but in love. They spent the night talking, they were up all night, talking. Can it be true, can it be really true? Yes. The exact same thing was happening for Damien and his new life long love. Both couples had stopped on the verge of coupling. They wanted to be sure it was LOVE.

Then they slept.

In the morning the Sun screamed out Bollockoff Shirtoff in the Street. As the couple talked and slept their love had gone viral. Everybody but everybody in the crowd had filmed it and uploaded it. Ballet Lovers Website crashed 14 times, such was the pull of the ballet. By afternoon on the streets of Bangkok you could buy a DVD of Bollockoff and the Mystery girl. To say Bollockoff was huge was a massive understatement. But what would transpire after breakfast would dwarf.

Catherine arrived at her law firm and Tony smiled, she kissed him on the cheek. Tony on security blushed, he was like a proud dad, as all law firm security people are. Now a major new client had been visiting and as Catherine spoke fluent Italian she was ushered to the boardroom just to be on hand. Now as luck or Fate would have it, the client had been at Paolo’s restaurant the night before. This could be tricky very tricky, but he was a Ballet Nut. He did not want to want to talk about contracts just ballet. Catherine looked helpless and trapped for a moment, the senior stepped in, not as elegantly as Bollockoff but just as nice.

If Catherine doesn’t feel too overwhelmed then I’ll permit it, he ventured, senior partners love their staff almost as the Tonys on reception, but with much posher language. Forgive me, I am just a farmer replied the Italian in clothes worth at least 10,000. He bowed and kissed her hand. So they talked business with Catherine doing a bit of translation. As talks had gone well, extremely well, the Italian could not keep his mind off Bollockoff’s performance. Catherine decided to do some of her own venturing.

Actually, there is a full dress rehearsal today and Anton said I should sneak out over a long lunch break and come and see him perform. The Italian screamed and dropped his man-bag leaving a tiny tiny scratch on it. Could we, please, we have finished here, my cousin Marco would be so jealous if I saw Bollockoff first. The Italian gave his best pleading eyes to he senior partner. Well if you are sure the business is closed. The Italian drew out his most expensive yet stylist pen and signed the 200million deal.

Let’s go and see Bollockoff he screamed in delight. The senior partner leaned over his phone and asked Tony on reception to tell the Italian’s driver to be ready. In the ride down in the lift Catherine told the Italian how she had met Bollockoff. So when the lift doors opened Tony was a superhero, putting Bollockoff on the angel list had been angels’ delight for the Italian. Bollockoff was at the restaurant as the Italian magnate and he had seen him dance in the street. The Italian kissed Tony on both cheeks, you should have a reward, Tony’s eyebrows formed question marks. The senior partner shrugged his shoulders, the Italian asked sheepishly would his man-bag be a suitable reward. The tiny scratch on it meant the Italian would not be seen dead with it. With the senior partner nodding his assent Tony accepted the gift. It was a PacoMacotaco man-bag not that Tony knew that till he googled the label inside. Retail value 4000.

The car whisked them to the ballet, the lights had gone down but they were ushered to a box. The music started and the lights came on. As their eyes adjusted to the light Catherine could see the security from the restaurant and Paulo from the restaurant in the boxes beside them. Then as she looked about she realised the Hippodrome home of the Birmingham Royal Ballet was overflowing. Every security in Birmingham had come. Invite one, invite all.

Bollockoff and the Birmingham Royal Ballet were on fire, his energy had supercharged everybody. The fact that the other newspapers had followed up on the Sun’s headline really made everybody feel happy. The show was an entire tour de force or whatever the French say. At the interval a miracle happened. Everybody got a drink, the Chairman of the Federation of Security Personnel Birmingham Branch had slapped down his American Express card and said fill everything and have every ice-cream in the building ready. It was a military operation, everybody but everybody was fed and watered in those 20 mins.

Happy with smudges of ice-cream on their lips which eager girlfriends more than eager to lick off slowly, the security all sat in eager anticipation. They were not denied anything. Ballerinas danced and Ballet dancers pranced. It was like Christmas for a child. Grown men cried and their girlfriends had to console them, and they’d console them much more when they got home to bed. Afternoon delights are a regular feature if you work late nights.

The Italian sneaked out his iphone and streamed a minute to his cousin in Milan. The cousin was so lividly jealous. As the curtain fell the entire audience leapt to their feet. The community of Birmingham security has lost their Ballet Virginity, and they wanted more,and when they got home they would have more ballet, but the horizontal variety. The corps to ballet bowed and the audience screamed.

Bollockoff stepped forward, I am sorry if my performance was not perfect it’s my first time on this stage but I promise to improve here in my new home, Birmingham. I met somebody so special last night and we spent the entire night talking , just talking. So did I screamed Damien and Martin in unison. The audience roared their approval. Things could not get any better. Catherine screamed out, I love you. Italian and the senior partner could go to hell she was in love. The entire audience screamed out I love you.
The corps to ballet bowed, the applause and screaming lasted 10 full minutes was like a pop concert. Then when the screaming stopped Catherine screamed again. It’s me, I love you. The spotlight moved to cover her, he’s seen her in the Sun now he’d spotted her in the crowd. The audience gasped it was her, the girl dancing or rather ripping his shirt off from Bollockoff. Anton saw the love of his life and dived into the crowd. His ballet dancing had lifted them up, now it was their turn to lift him up. So walking on palms Anton Bollockoff reached his girl. It was like Romeo and Juliette. Marry me and have all my babies he said in Russian. What did he say asked the audience? The Italian who also spoke Russia stood and with tears in his eyes translated. He said Marry Me and have all my babies.

Versuvius erupted, Catherine was lowered to Bollockoff’s level and still standing on the hands of security they kissed. Then hand in hand they walked over the hands to the stage. The Italian kissed the senior partner he was so happy. His Milanese cousin would die, absolutely die. After a few more bows the corps to ballet were about to leave the stage when Anton hissed, do you trust me? Yes. So the Corps de ballet left the stage by walking over the hands of the audience.

It took 90 seconds to empty the theatre they were all trained security personnel. Then outside the Hippodrome Anton reprised his dance from the night before, but with the Birmingham Royal Ballet improvising around him. If my mother were alive she would have thrown a bucket of water on them. As it was the Fire Brigade had been doing some routine checks so they decided to sprinkle the ballet. It was an utter internet sensation. Kirov can Bollockoff was the headline on the Sun the next day. Two days with 2 ballet headlines in the sun, was the editor drunk, or just drunk on ballet.

Linking his arm through the senior partner’s arm the Italian walked back to the law office, the crowds had gathered, his car could never get through now. I like you, your firm, your security Tony, I like everything, like a family, and I adore the ballet. This is the happiest day of my business life ever. Only when I bought the racing car company comes a 2nd closest, to this day. Ballet in Birmingham day, I think I’ll tell my biographer to write a whole page about it, maybe two.

The Birmingham Royal Ballet went inside to change, Catherine and Anton decided to consummate their love in a box of the Hippodrome. Damien and Martin were ahead of them, in a box on the other side of the Hippodrome. As they say Ballet is Universal, the Birmingham Royal Ballet encapsulates it all. And yes I really was vetted by a Chinese Ballerina from the Birmingham Royal Ballet in the Queens Tavern about 20 years ago. Where do you thing the ideas come from?





Friday, 14 February 2020

3rd Rate Trump turns USA into 3rd World Country

3rd Rate Trump turns USA into 3rd World Country

3rd Rate Trump turns USA into 3rd World Country
Rule of  Law means you do the crime get convicted and go to jail
IN USA the President can give a Pardon at the end
BUT YOU CANNOT INTERRUPT  THE PROCESS
He does NOT have any right to interrupt
In UK, if anybody loudmouthed like Trump
the judge on the case could have Trump put in Jail
for Contempt of Court
SO USA you should follow that
As for Congress IF they say COME, everybody should SHOW UP
Change the Law so that, CONGRESS is NEVER ignored
YOU cannot avoid the Draft, or say you have Bone Spurs
is USA  really really stupid?
IMPEACH AGAIN IMMEDIATELY and Give THE SENATE a 2nd Chance
to redeem itself and Save USA, not again, but ALWAYS
It really does make me cry, a once great country being turned to an Evil
Corrupt Country, all because of one man.
Learn the Lessons of History
AND EVERYBODY SHOW UP AND VOTE IF SENATE BROWN NOSES FIRST
AND IGNORES THE LESSONS FROM HISTORY
Dump Trump, leave him in a bunker, like other Tyrants
mums house (2)
this is where my values come from, not a pigsty my mother’s birthplace
and home 1920s Cromane Lower Kerry Eire, opposite where Ryan’s Daughter
was filmed
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Happy 555 to my Indian Readers

Michael Casey About the author I've updated this today 13th April 2023 I'm Michael Casey from Birmingham England, the fat silver hai...