Ecuador, India, Malaysia, Philippines, Mexico plus more

 Ecuador, India, Malaysia, Philippines, Mexico  plus more

were the readers today, not forgetting Trump Virus Spreader USA 

This in unforgiveable 

• On Thursday morning, Trump was told that Hope Hicks had tested positive with the virus, reports claim 
• He still traveled to Bedminster, NJ, for a fundraising event in his golf club where he came into contact with 100 people and raised $5million 

here's a very responsible story as I'm tired today

Lech, Boris and Gregorgi Check it Out ©

By

Michael Casey

 

So your small girl is a big girl now, leaving home to go to University. I nodded trying to hold back the tears, the boys understood and put protective arms on my shoulder. She’ll miss Totoro the cat no doubt, but her little sister will send updates on the cat’s progress to her studying bigger sister. She may even miss her old dad, the fat silver haired writer in shades from Birmingham England. I began to sniffle, but the boys understood, they were Popaloffoff’s finest, they visited me often just to see how Totoro the cat was, or so they claimed. But now the family was scattering, they knew what they had to do and do it they would.

 

The boys left me as I looked through the photo albums of my treasure soon to be far away in a different part of the country and I wouldn’t be there to protect her. Lech, Boris and Gregorgi went to the still hidden in the woods, the Vodka wouldn’t be ready for 3 more days. More than enough time to check out my daughter’s new home and University.

 

As they drove their tanker down the motorway they phoned home, their wives all agreed, they had to do what they had to do. And if only they hadn’t been so spontaneously the wives could have prepared a gift. The Butcher’s Choice, a step by step guide on how to butcher pigs along with a lethal knife. They did not expect my daughter to become a Home Butcher and chef like them, however it also taught knife skills that a single girl might need in a hurry, and I don’t mean when an unexpected dinner party arrives.

 

When they arrived at the University town the boys sat on a bench next to a drunk, so they asked the drunk all about the city in exchange for a tiny bottle of their fresh vodka. So that’s how they got the low down on the city, ask a tramp, they know everything. So first of all they went to the local Gay bar, and had a pint of Guinness each, by way of a change. The clients all thought Christmas had come early, or the were a Strip Act. Lech, Boris and Gregorgi laughed, we’ve done that before but only at a car showroom, the memories made them smile. Sorry but certain things are only for our wives eyes only.

They explained that their friend, the fat silver haired writer in shades from Birmingham England had a pussy called Totoro, and that his daughter only got a cat 4 years ago as he promised her and her little sister a pet if he had a heart attack, or they could have a dog if he died. And now she was going to their city to Study. Is she Gay asked the clients? We don’t think so, it’s not something you ask somebody, of course she not, here’s her photo, so the boys showed my daughter’s photo. A few sighs went up, they were quickly silenced as the boys gave them a look. You see if she comes here she’ll be safe from BASTARDS, explained the boys.

 

They had another Guinness each, this time on the house. In exchange they handed out a Holy Picture of the Icon of Mary of Popaloffoff. If you put that in the window, she’ll know she’s safe here, the owners of the club promised they would, wiping away tears as they did so. The boys left the Jester, they were no fools, they had found the 1^st place of safety for my daughter. They did take the boys’ photo too and would place that next to the Holy Picture. Faith and Brawn, nobody would ever dare to even think of playing games there, a new symbiotic relationship.

 

They went around town to sandwich bars, and coffee shops explaining the situation, at each place they handed out the Holy Picture of the Holy Icon of Mary Popaloffoff. Each place took their photo too and would display it next to the Holy Picture, something was happening, Mary of Popaloffoff was doing her bit but they were doing theirs too. The boys saw themselves just as cuddly Slav Bears, from where Russia, Ukraine and Poland make love on the Map. But to a University town in England, they were strong men from the Circus. One so strong, one so tall, one so very wide, not the kind of men you see in the back streets of a small university two.

 

They were hungry now, so they went to Greggs only the machinery had broken and they may have to throw the food away. If we fix it, can we have free food? So a deal was done. In the East, you have to fix things, 2 metres of snow, who’s going to come and fix your plant, Father Christmas? So in one hour they fixed it. The staff were mightily impressed as were the queue of people who were all dying for what only Greggs can supply. Our Lady of Popaloffoff and the boys own photo was soon installed by the door.

 

This had not been their plan, they just wanted to make sure my  daughter would be safe. Now over 200 Holy Pictures of Our Lady of Popaloffoff Icon were everywhere. There was a man walking with his nose in a book, he walk straight into them, spilling hundreds of Our Lady of Popaloffoff Holy Pictures everywhere. He bent down to pick them up, then he began to cry. It was Andrew Graham Dixon the greatest Art Critic in England, and friend of Popaloffoff, the boys each gave him a bear hug and kiss on the lips, like old friends do in the East. Andrew Graham Dixon took a copy of my daughter’s photo, phone to phone transfer and  said his Italian friend had a restaurant in the town, so should she want a job he was sure he could persuade his friend.

 

So the lads were pleased, but now the most dangerous part was to be done. The drunk had told them about the bad side of town, so now they must confront it. They banged on the door and waited, 3 large men with Rotts appeared, the 3 men laughed at them. You are those bleeding poofs we saw in the street picking up all those rubbish leaflets up, and then kissing that bloke on the lips, bleeding poofs, just get lost or I’ll set the Rottweilers on you.

 

Now you never ever ever speak to a man from Popaloffoff like that, or to anybody, straight or gay or any which way. And to say that a Holy Picture of Our Lady of Popaloffoff Icon was rubbish, was just too much. Lech looked at Boris and Boris looked at Gregorgi. They cursed the bad men with the worst word you can use in the East. NAZIS. After that the Rottweilers attacked, but punch on the nose had all 3 run away like puppy dogs. NAZIS Lech, Boris and Gregorgi  again screamed. In seconds those 3 hard men were no longer hard men, they were very scared men.

 

All were going to ask, was that you turn this girl away if she comes to your club your place by accident, tell her to go home and put her in Mr George’s taxi, he is a nice man we met him today. But to say the Icon of Popaloffoff is rubbish, and then to set the dogs on us. That is to much. Being called Gay does not matter, one day one of our sons may say he is gay, or one of our daughters may say she is Lesbian. WE WOULD STILL LOVE THEM AS THAT IS OUR JOB TO LOVE THEM ALWAYS WHATEVER THEY ARE. We are from the East and we love our Motherlands just as we love our own mothers and daughters.  With that Lech, Boris and Gregorgi spat in the Nazis faces.

 

Then there were Police everywhere, they had been watching the club, and knew a knew loads more drugs must be there with 3 Rottweilers to guard everything. Lech, Boris and Gregorgi had speeded up the process. In fact there was a reward, but they insisted it went to the Drugs Rehabilitation Centre.

 

So that is how the boys spent their day. And yes the Chief Superintendent himself kissed the boys of the lips, much to the shock of the PCs, but he had a Russian wife, so he knew about the Culture of the East. There was one other thing to mention, inside the Holy Pictures was a tiny chip, and they would give my daughter an App, it would show her all the Safe Places, and guide her safely home, whatever the darkness.

 

 

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 its 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 scream 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 its 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 can 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 nonstop. 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.

But now, but now the Holy Icon of Polaloffoff was missing. There had been a bus of tourists, who had had visited the day before, but they were long gone. That’s if it were them, but who else could it have been? Mother Mary of Popaloffoff Speak to Me, Hear my Voice, Hear my Prayer said Tolstoy the Priest, tears still streaming from his one good eye, as he fell to his knees in the middle of the square outside their church. Bori, Lech and Gregorgi sunk to their knees besides him, soon the entire village were on their knees praying. Mother Mary of Popaloffoff was moved, Tolstoy could hear a quiet voice in his head, I am always with you. Do not cry, an Icon is nothing, compared to my love.

Tolstoy shook his head, I know, I know forgive me, but we want you back where you belong, here in Popaloffoff. Mary smiled, Tolstoy smiled, he’d bring her back if it was the last thing he did before he died. WE RIDE said Tolstoy as he got to his feet, Lech, Boris and Gregorgi wondered what he meant. They followed him, to the shed by the church. Inside was the Nazi’s motorbike, still in mint condition. There was no time to argue, Lech and Boris sat on the bike with Gregorgi and Tolstoy squeezed into the sidecar.

As they roared off they sent a text message to Andrew Graham Dixon, our Lady of Popaloffoff STOLEN. That’s all it said but they knew he would help. In fact Andrew Graham Dixon sent a message to every Art Collector he knew, nobody could attempt selling it on, and if they did Andrew Graham Dixon would know and he had friends in Interpol. This was Sacrilege, then he cried, before having his beans on toast, with lobster and a Guinness.

The trio of cousins did not know where they were going, they were just doing as their old priest told them. When they got to new main road they stopped. Left or Right? Tolstoy took off his rose tinted sunglasses and looked to the Heavens. A tiny voice in his head told him Left, so they went left. The Trio of Cousins wondered what was going on, but said nothing. On they rode, further and further away from the village.

They came across a car with a puncture, so they stopped to help. They had to be good Samaritans after all. They did not have a jack just a spare tyre, so Lech, Boris and Gregorgi lifted the car while Tolstoy helped change the tyre. A family with a baby thanked them, as they were about to go Tolstoy asked had the baby been baptised. No, was the reply, so on the spot Tolstoy baptised the baby, with Lech, Boris and Gregorgi as Godfathers. The family were deeply touched and shouted God Bless You as they rode away.

See a Blessing, said Tolstoy. But Fate and Evil always rears its ugly head, they were running out of petrol. They stopped at the side of the road, and what appeared coming from the opposite direction. A gang of Hells Angels. Tolstoy said, God is Good, as the Hells Angels approached, but he reached into his boot and brought out the dagger the SS Nazi had put in his eye. He’d kept the dagger all those years, now maybe he’s need to use it to defend himself.

The Hells Angels circled and pulled over besides them, Tolstoy took off his rose tinted sunglasses. Perhaps they’d be impressed by his scar, they were. One lady on a bike actually puked. Then the leader of the Hells Angels spoke, Hi I’m Wayne from Fort Worth, we are on a biking holiday, how can we help. They were tourists on a trip of a lifetime.

Tolstoy explained. Son of a Bitch, said the Hells Angels in Unison. Wayne texted his friend in the FBI, those bastards wouldn’t sell the icon in USA, or his name wasn’t Wayne Duke Hazzard III. So the Hells Angels said they’d ride with them part of the way. They had some extra petrol so they’d all be underway. Tolstoy asked could he ride pillion with somebody as he was a bit cramped in the sidecar with Gregorgi. So Tolstoy rode with Mary-Beth.

As they rode Tolstoy asked, did she enjoy being a Hells Angel, she replied it was a bit of fun at weekends, as they had no children. Tolstoy remarked you have the breasts for a great mother, Mary-Beth laughed but there was sadness too in her laughter. So Tolstoy silently prayed for her and all the Hells Angels. Further up the road they went their separate ways. But first Tolstoy Bless all of Them, may Our Lady of Popaloffoff protect you. He also showed them a photo of the icon.

Little did he know, little did the pretend Hells Angels know, what the future would bring. And on they rode, Tolstoy listening to the quiet voice in his head which was leading him to the Icon. It was getting dark, and they would have to stop for the night. But there was no room at the inn, a Beer Festival was taking place, so everywhere was booked out. But they were welcome to stop in the hay loft above cows in the barn.

So they did, and luckily the cows did not complain about the smell, in their leathers they’d managed to get very smelly. In the middle of the night there was a commotion, one of the cows a prize one at that was having difficulty giving birth. The Inn Keeper came out running in his night shirt. He was so worried for has Beauty, for that was the name of his cow. Lech, Boris and Gregorgi knew what to do and they must hurry. So Tolstoy gave them the Nazi’s dagger and they cut the cow out, before sewing the cow back up again. Blood everywhere, but in fact two cows were born, one in fact a bull, that’s why the mum was having difficulty. When the boys had finished the vet finally arrived. He was impressed to say the least.

The Innkeeper was delighted and in the morning made breakfast for all 4 of them, himself. Then Tolstoy said Mass in the carpark for everybody, and everybody said God Bless, and the cows in all the fields mooed in unison. Lech, Boris and Gregorgi wondered would they ever catch the Icon thief, but Tolstoy always said God was Good, and still the little voice in Tolstoys head encouraged him. In fact the voice was getting stronger, so Our Lady of Popaloffoff Icon was getting closer to them.

They continued along the road, and there was nothing but fields, fields and fields. Then they noticed a sign, Air Strip this way. They stopped the bike, in the distance was a small aircraft. Fly, Tolstoy Fly was what the old priest could hear in his head. So the floored the motorbike, went as fast as they could go. But it was too late, the light aircraft was going to take off.

But then Luck shone on them, the light aircraft turned around, it was heading towards them, it had been taxiing to the end of the strip. Now they had a chance. A chance to play chicken. Lech headed straight for the plane. The pilot thought he was mad, and so he was. You never steal from Popaloffoff, and never from a church in Popaloffoff, and Our Lady of Popaloffoff Icon belongs in only one place, Popaloffoff.

Tolstoy stood up in the sidecar and took the Nazi dagger from his boot, then he prayed, guide my hand Mary of Popaloffoff. He threw the dagger into the engine as Lech passed underneath the light aircraft. 70+ years ago the icon had saved village, now he would save the icon.

The plane stopped, and the engine caught fire, luckily they had a fire engine at the strip. Unlucky for the pilot and his 2 passengers there were Police galore hiding. All 3 bad guys were arrested. You see Andrew Graham Dixon and Wayne had both contacted Interpol and the FBI immediately. It turned out Art thieves were on a road trip, but now it was the end of the road, or rather the end of the airstrip for them.

So Tolstoy was reunited with his beloved Icon, and several more were rescued. As for the dagger, Evil had been turned to good. One of the Policemen knew of a motor bike museum, so the Nazi’s motor bike was retired too, after it had been turned from Evil to Good. Then Tolstoy and the boys were given a helicopter ride home with the icon.

Tolstoy held the Icon of Mary of Popaloffoff aloft and then sunk to his knees in praise. It was decided to put a laser alarm around the icon, the strange thing was though that Tolstoy could walk through the laser without setting it off. Our Lady of Popaloffoff knew he was a friend after all.

There was the sound of thunder, coming down the mountain when she comes, singing ai ai wippy ai ai hey, as she comes. This was 9 months+ later you see Mary-Beth did have breasts for children. She had twins, and every other biker chick had had a child too. Mary-Beth liked to ride a bike, but, well, you know. So Tolstoy baptised all the babies, and Lech, Boris and Gregorgi suddenly had even more Godchildren. They all had new leather jackets too, on the back was the image of Our Lady of Popaloffoff with the Logo “Our Lady of Popaloffoff Angels”

*** I really love these guys and I have written a few stories with them in, I KNOW that Mother Russia, and Poland and Ukraine would love these guys too. Perfect for film and cartoons…. but maybe Trump will French Kiss Putin live on TV before it can happen.

But God is good, and the story does prove that, so raise a toast to the Boys, and throw the corks away, as bottle should be finished and never saved.

Michael Casey 1st Oct 2020, remember October is Mary’s month…

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The Iron Curtain

 The Iron Curtainof pain descended 10 hours ago

Hence no new stuff

I can autopilot like this

But write new stuff, too hard

Julie and The Phantoms is a great show  had me crying  again

Lots of Music, really really high standard

Its supposed to be for teens, but in my head I'm 20

Though today with the pain, 95

I still dream of that Korean girl and 4 more children

but that's me wailing at death, as it gets every nearer

though God is good, so you never know

but I'd settle for no more pain, nor Tinnitus too

6am before sleep came

though I did watch the slanging match that is Trump v Biden

Obviously  Trump is corupt and spoils everything he touches

how one man can destroy a country

The love of Money is the Root of All Evil

but Trump has never read any Bible 

he just uses them as props

and the Religious Right are neither

WHere are the Good Samaritans?

In UK the Samaritans are the suicide helpline people

 So God Help America

A shining light on a hill for all humanity

Now disgraced by one man's vanity, and haircut bill

or do folks forgive him 77,000 times

before realising he's just abusing them

DISCUSS

 

Purple Pain, just dance along with Prince the Pharmacist

 Purple Pain, just dance along with Prince the Pharmacist

well trying to shake off the pain I went walking down the hill

I had to  collect my heart and pain meds after all

My small daughter did go a few days ago but she got there too late

So I went again myself, with the hope of of the Flu jab too

Only the Flu jab had mean maxed out

So I need to come back

My GP normally has a day at the local church to jab everybody

That's where I do my strip tease and they are then all sick in  a bucket

However no news from the GP yet, so I'll go back to my Pharmacy

I've used this pharmacy since I've lived in the area, it was the closest

The Pharmacist is about to retire

So his son will be taking over, all a fully quality pharmacist

The son of pharma looks exactly like PRINCE

In a suit and waistcoat

Not a little bit, just the real deal

All that is missing is a guitar

Purple Pain Purple Pain I'll go visit the pharmacist again

If ever you all come visit Birmingham I'll introduce you

You can buy toothpaste and perfume too

Or maybe have a chat about your pain

Then he'll do your prescription too

While you see that he really is a Prince

This is my world,  on the doorstep to

Old Forge and Singing Anvil as found in

The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker

someday my princess will come and I'll

actually write Tears for a Butcher the sequel

But tonight Korea is reading me, so maybe just maybe...

Purple Pain, Purple Pain

me and my daughters 10 plus years ago at Christmas

one of my favourite photos, and yes I have 1000s as everybody does

Still Crying with Laughter

 Morning all, well I'm crying with laughter. Last night I mentioned in passing to my small daughter about the twins in Tears for a Butcher

So today to my surprize over on the Cartoons site what was being read, the exact same story. Portugal has had a fit of reading overnight so hello to Madonna, or whoever it might be. Probably somebody else.

I'll posted the piece below in a second. I also spotted fancy tools, which could be a term of abuse checking me out. And a pizza lover confusing me on Wordpress.

But it all does dovetail into the story. I have great coverage but lack penetration, ask any marketing boy. And I did start out at STATSMR, which was so good it was bought up by ACNielsen. I started in June 1978 by the way, that's why I can only type and not handwrite.

So I have the coverage, now I need the Penetration. You can make your own jokes up there. It's turning world wide coverage, and is it 10 countries spread over the sites today, and 6 or 7 languages. 

Maybe I'm just a cult, a fat silver haired Gangham Style, with piles, of readers, thinly spread. It would be up to the money people to test market my stuff. Before they wasted their time and money on me, Q Abba song.

Not that I'd keep all my share, as I'd donate it away, as I've stated elsewhere. 

So there I sit at the bottom of the escalator waiting for somebody to press the button up. Trump is descending and I am ascending.

Sounds like a horror movie, in bed with Trump, and you can all write your own scenarios there. I only thought he slept with Putin and his money. Though I did write a story about  Trump Putin the Pope and Theresa May in a band you can find it online, and in the end Trump and Putin are in bed together.

ok here's the repeat then i may see you all later

Thursday, 13 September 2018

Annie and Bettie get their Man

Annie and Bettie get their Man

  

Annie and Bettie get their Man ©
By
Michael Casey

Now if you have read The Butcher The Baker and the Undertaker then you will have heard about Annie and Bettie, I don’t think I’ve mixed the names up, but it is over 30 years ago since I wrote the book. However the twin sisters are still impossibly beautiful, and still work behind the bar of The Trader, their dad’s pub. They have now gone through puberty and have complexions to die for, I won’t say any more but imagine English Roses to the Nth degree.

As the whole world comes trough the doors of The Trader they have become experts in People Watching, to be honest growing up in a bar they have a degree in psychology at very least. The Human Animal observed from behind the taps of a bar. Customer service was of course in grained into them, though this does not mean they did not know how to have fun.

Today they were dressed as Pregnant Nuns, Rodney or is it Roger the Traffic Warden had imprinted his love of dressing up and amateur dramatics on them from an early age. So they dressed up and acted out dramas as they served behind the bar, it made life more interesting for them and it helped pass the time. As you can imagine The Trader was a very happy place to have a drink in, very very rarely was there any trouble.

The twins mother was worried that her beauties might do the wrong thing and get pregnant by some BASTARD, so she made them promise at age 7 that they would stay pure, and only ever go to bed with their husband. The twins honoured this promise as they loved their mum and dad so much. It was an easy promise to keep as they hadn’t seen any husband material, so they were not tempted.

However these past 3 years a revelation revealed itself to them, the twins had a crush on the draymen, they saw them regularly for years and they’d have a cup of tea together after each delivery. The draymen were just ordinary guys, nothing special. In fact they both had something that marked them out, you see Ken had a stutter, and Len had a limp, caused by dropping a beer barrel on his leg years ago. Other that that they were perfect, Annie and Bettie had decided that they were husband material.
Ken stuttered away but Annie loved him the more, when she heard on the radio about stutterers being able to sing she persuaded Ken to sing for her. And guess what? Ken’s singing voice was like Johhny Cash, so deep and appealing. She would have gone through a Ring of Fire for him. As for Len he was as strong as an ox, as was Ken, but seeing him limp made Bettie love him the more. He had no limp in her eyes, he was husband material too.

Ken and Len didn’t know it but they were marked men, they had husband written all over them. Now over the years the friendships grew, but nothing happened, Annie and Bettie were good girls, and a promise to a mother is a promise to a mother. However the Urge as the call it in Ireland does come, and that Saturday night, the night of the big match, the Urge would win and could lead to Sin.

The Trader was full and everybody was matching the Man U Villa game on the big screen. Len and Ken were in a corner enjoying the match, Annie and Bettie were sighing, the Urge was upon them. It was a game of two halves and everybody was merry. It was then that it happened. A drink was spilt and angry words were exchanged. Annie and Bettie looked up and stopped the Guinness in mid flow.

Sor sor sor sorry, it was Ken trying to apologize. He was mocked by a giant of a man. Len limped forward trying to be the peace maker. He in turn was mocked. Annie and Bettie felt the urge upon them, Annie whispered to Bettie, tonight is the night I become a woman. Bettie whispered to Annie anything you can do I can do better. Again their men were being mocked.

Sing for me Ken screamed Annie over the noise of the match. Ken knew the song she loved so he sung, Stand by Your Man, his singing was perfect. In seconds Annie had leapt from table to table to be by his side. Bettie was right behind her, Len needed her, she knew she needed him. They were there chests heaving, it was now or never. Annie grabbed Ken and kissed him, his stutter would vanish forever after a kiss like that. Bettie would not be beaten, Len’s limp would never go but Bettie didn’t mind.

Then Annie and Bettie swung around, they were still dressed as pregnant nuns, have you got a problem? The giant of a man laughed in their face, turning to his mates, pregnant nuns are the only girlfriends these guys will ever get. Len and Ken moved forward, they were so angry. Annie and Bettie defused the situation by kissing their men and placing their men’s hands where only a husbands’ hand should be. The whole pub gasped, the match was ignored, was this going to be a Strippergram.

Trust me, said Annie, trust me said Bettie with a parting kiss on the cheek for their HUSBANDS. I don’t like BASTARDS the twin sisters said in unison. With that they simultaneously, dropped kicked the giant of a man, before kick boxing his friends to the ground. GOAL.
Villa beat Man U 3 2 in extra time, but in The Trader a giant of a man and his ugly friends were too dazed to notice.

The whole pub laughed at them, Villa and Man U fans united, they did not like bastards either. Mocking a limp, and mocking a stutter, will only get you in the gutter, and you will see stars. Annie looked at Bettie and Bettie looked at Annie, NOBODY would ever mock her husband. With that they pretended to faint, they were caught by their husbands. The husbands took them to bed. They had waited and now they were ready. Their mother had been out shopping, and she fainted for real when Wayne said their twin daughters were upstairs, being touched for the very first time, Madonna was singing the song on repeat.

But Len and Ken were the perfect husbands for her daughters, though they would still need to go to church and the registry office, to make it official. Were the girls right to beat the bully? Well if you have multiple black belts, in fact they are 3^rd Dan in some martial art, I forget which, what would you do? Stand by you Man is such a nice song after all.

Purple Me

 

Autumn Colours

Posted bymichaelgcasey28/09/2020Posted inUncategorizedEditAutumn Colours

this is my in a new old jumper after a wash and shave and 2 more hours sleep in afternoon

purple-me-28sept2020-2-1Download

birmingham-is-balletDownload

too much pain to sit and write, it’s hard if your head and chest hurts and breathing hurts too, welcome to my world of chronic sine curve of pain. And NO I’m not making it up.

from 4 years ago here’s this

Pain in the Night ©

By Michael Casey

Well I just had to get up such is my pain, other pains are available, but I can only speak of mine. I’m writing this from the very edge, if I cannot get to sleep because of the pain then I may as well tell it into another story. I had my quadruple heart bypass 15 months ago now, and I’m still screaming in pain.

I was fit and healthy until the surgery, or so I thought, but without it I’d now be dead, more than likely. So what gets me screaming, the Beatles or am I a Stones man? You get a dull pain in the centre of your chest, and it gets bigger, it’s like a craw hammer pulling you apart, as I was telling the nice lady the other day. Then just for fun you’ll have a stabbing feeling right to the heart, like stabbing yourself with your pencil. This is due to the fact that you’ve been split open like a Kentucky Fried Chicken so that the surgeon can work on you.

I hope I’m not putting potential heart patients off the alternative could be death or major heart attack. I was talking to my priest, he did try and hide in Aldi to avoid me, but anyway he said that at our age it could be 3 years before recovery. I’ve just jumped out of my seat as I had a twinge. The whole of my left chest is a danger zone, one touch or even a lick from our cat would be enough to make me scream. My heart team guy said just consider what has gone on in there.

I now have a party trick, if I put an ice cube on my right nipple it is really really cold, but on my left nipple I can hardly feel a thing. I don’t have any nipple tassels so get that idea out of your head. What else can I do, I can convulse in pain and scream at the same time. Muscular Skeletal pain it’s called, I get it in my left side, though my pet name for it is BASTARD, I was recovering really fast from my bypass surgery when that came along.     

Arthritis joins in for fun, it’s a race around the track for all my pains, up down and around, which does sound like a song title. Which part of the body gets it first and where will it share to. I can be limp and then not limp at all. I can have it in my shoulders and then my hips, but never on my lips so far.

I have paracetalmol  for my heart and a slap on pain killer for other bits, the paracetalmol gives you man boobs after a bit, so you end up stealing your daughter’s bra. Movelat is for other areas and is fast acting, which is just you want as a freezing pain slides down from your shoulder to your heart. Then you have another pain, but that’s just constipation, which you get as a result of all the pain killers.

Now I am recently getting a pain in my knee and my leg scars have joined in just for fun, while you folks think I’m just a pain in the arse.

 So try and keep on smiling when you can hardly think and breath due to the pain. I’d also like to know what did they leave in my chest, as sometimes when I move I can feel as if I’m being stabbed from the inside. Or maybe it’s a pacemaker, or it’s somebody’s remote control, I’m told in the future I’ll have fun at airports because of the metal stitches inside me.

I didn’t intend sharing all this with you, but its either that or stay tossing and turning in bed, and screaming at the moon, the local wolves have started to complain I’m putting them out of a job.

Remembering The Marx Brothers

 Remembering The Marx Brothers

now immediately the ignorant assume this is Communism

Marx and Engels hung out together and the Dark Satanic Mills

inspired Marx, and the rest is ignorant History

GO GOOGLE, GO READ A BOOK

I'm despairing of the USA Trump Electorate

In the COMEDY FILM with Groucho Marx

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BRUrWTP82PY

Go West it was called see link above

They chop the train to pieces in order to keep it going

they use the train itself as firewood

Now that's great in a comedy film

But it's not a good idea when running a country

Trump behaves like that, the train is moving

but all around is devastation

Now vote him out for all our sakes, worldwide

trump is beyond a joke