Dear Donald Employ Hackers Never Jail them, ask Putin

Posted bymichaelgcasey17/12/2020Posted inUncategorizedEditDear Donald Employ Hackers Never Jail them, ask Putin

I’m not surprised in the least about all this Hacking

A Hacker in UK saved our NHS when North Korea attacked

what did USA want to do with him, Jail him

Hackers you use, as poachers always are best gamekeepers

All this time, of the Bastard Presidency, as it will be know by History

We have hear nothing but boasts and golf

And attacking everybody on your on team, a Nation divided cannot stand

And as my dad would say, Putin is laughing up his kilt

Arrogance is not Security

All security at that level should be tested constantly

It’s We Know Best, We are the Experts attitiudes

So many Platitudes

And destruction from within

Go back to pen and pencil and invisible ink, and carrier pigeon

Or maybe USA has it’s knickers down

So the only solution is to mate, or make peace

As you are checkmated

And If any good can come

Save money on military and spend it on saving the Planet

Make trees not missiles

And look to the East

persianBBUDownload

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16th Dec 2020

 Well I hope you all liked the new story yesterday.

Today I'm having fun with Tinnitus, and my hips/back 

are attacking me again, but at least I can walk around the house

Over on Wordpress you are all very busy

World wide coverage, so thanks for that

and downloads galore

https://michaelgcaseyfrombirminghamengland.wordpress.com/2020/07/12/reposted-translations-galore-just-click-to-download-your-language/

so thanks for reading my stuff

No doubt I'll be cursed once Lockdown is finally over

I'm not hurrying to write new material

Enjoying my Kdramas so much

here's something from May 2012 to keep you going

Pens  and Penmanship ©

By Michael Casey

 

I just read a piece in the BBC magazine online, it was all about fountain pens. Now I immediately have to confess my writing is terrible, and no I’m not pretending, as far back as 40 years ago at grammar school I was told off for it. In fact I was told off in Primary school too, they even got me to write a few rows of “a” and of “b” and so on, it failed to improved my writing, I was a massive reader at the time, for one year I was practically left alone to read, perhaps  it was then that my writing died. In grammar school my friends said my writing was like drunken spiders, or in today’s world my writing is like spiders on acid. So there you have it, my writing is bad, very bad. So bad perhaps I should be a doctor.

Once you have bad hand writing people take the mick when you tell them you are a writer, as did the nice lady from the neighbourhood office a couple of weeks ago when my daughter went to collect a prize for drawing. Both my daughters draw and paint, they are very very good at it, they have a collection of 700 crayons and paints and pencils, not to mention felts and gel pens and all things that can make marks on paper. My daughters always need more, so that’s dad’s job to provide more artists material. I am of course very jealous of their skills, if I bit the top off my thumb and used that to sign my name that would be an improvement on my signature.

So what can a writer who cannot write do? He can type, I remember learning to type in 1978, I stood at the bus stop moving my fingers and trying to remember the qwerty keyboard. Now I’m a fast typist, when I’m writing my stuff, I’m not so fast  as a copy typist, nothing is more boring than typing up somebody else’s stuff. I remember one of the more mature ladies at the law firm who said “I was once clocked at 100wpm” and so she was, and that why one of the partners gave her two crates of champagne as a personal thank you for her typing, at that speed the paper would catch fire no doubt, if we still used the old typewriters.

So how can this writer improve his writing? I use different fonts on Word, and hope people like the look, looks do make a difference. If I can give a silly example, the ASDA near us uses a big bold font, but the size is too small and the letters touch other. This means to my eyes it’s terrible, and that’s the only complaint I have about the store, but I’m sure if any ASDA people read this they may change it. A sign encourages us to buy or to laugh, when we leave stuff out in the entry for Sky Burial I leave a note encouraging people to take our junk away. “Sit on Me” for a chair, and “sleep with me” for a bed, as I look out the window our gay neighbours are getting a new bed.

We get loads of junk email, if we had an open fire we’d never need to buy fuel, we’d just toast our bread on junk mail. Junk mail tries to look appealing and is printed on glossy paper, glossy paper is very heavy as I can remember when I carried bags at CPNEC, homes abroad salesmen had cases and cases of the stuff. So writing and communicating  all needs words, good words from a writer, but how those words are written and displayed has a massive impact, ask any politician. When  contracts are signed it’s done on quality paper that is bound together with a heat bind seal, and it’ll be a red seal if the contact is for Chinese clients, I know I’ve done 1000s. So presentation is king, you don’t want “thank you for your pieces of paper” when you send stuff to a publisher, and yes 25 years ago I did get that putdown. I hope you are all enjoying this Bookman Old Style, but I know just how important type setting is, another putdown a really good snide one was when I was turned down for a job and the HR lady replied in flowewry type face  and yes I do know her name.

All I can say is thank God for word processors, 1988 was the year I bought an Atari520 just for the word processor and it was very very expensive, it did play a big part in my life, I had Shoplife accepted by a theatre, I wrote it in Aug 1988 when the Olympics were on. Yes I’d love to be able to write, but I can write but not handwrite, so I hope any future readers will accept a rubber stamp when I do any book signings, my daughters will be on hand to draw a cartoon on each book. 

 888888

 me cleaned and shaved and still wearing 4 layers

13/dec/2020 am I so attractive, are the Pixies coming with 

Mistletoe to kiss me, or is that the sound of them puking in buckets

 

 

 

Finding a Wife for my Son

Posted bymichaelgcasey15/12/2020Posted inUncategorizedEditFinding a Wife for my Son

Finding a Wife for my Son ©

By Michael Casey

Now as you all know Esther is a friend of Mrs Murphy, a dear friend now, if you remember they met by accident. Mrs Murphy’s daughter in law’s dad was at Rotary thing and an astronaut came to give a speech and help raise money. He mentioned space blankets and Mr Kemp wondered where he could get one for his daughter’s Irish mother in law. The astronaut had laughed, but when he heard about Mrs Murphy praying so much and catching a chill his radar had come on. So on leaving he went back to Mr Kemp and shook his hand, he palmed him a name card and on the back he had written, tell Mrs Murphy to call this number. The number was Esther’s, she was a woman who lacked nothing, her son was a space zillionaire, making satellites and so forth. Esther collected friends, true real friends who she could share gossip with, who weren’t brown nosing to get close to son. So astronauts and  everybody were unofficially friend hunters. If you have all the money in the world, friends, true friends were pearls of great price. So Mrs Murphy had rung the number thinking it was a discount store or something, Esther had played along, as she brought up a satellite feed and told Mrs Murphy she has a few slates missing, on the back of her back chimney. This later led to Esther and Tiny arriving for the miracle birth of triplets, which in turn led to Malta, but you can find those stories, as well as well as When the Sergeant Major kissed the General, which only happened because Esther has found not one but two coding geniuses, while she was on the way to Malta after the miraculous triplet birth. Simple really, maybe this writer is destined for Korea, as it all sounds like Kdrama, but I digress.

Esther’s son was a maths wiz, and Esther herself loved poker, and still does, but to find the seed money for her son’s first idea Esther had played poker and beaten everybody including the local Mafia bosses. Being beaten by a little Jewish lady was a shame, so they kept inviting her back, and she kept beating them, but Mafia never know when to call it a day. Esther has looked at the statue of the Madonna in the back room where they played cards, and said to herself, listen Mary as one Jew to another, you help me and I’ll help you.

Esther never lost a game to the Mafia, so she soon had enough seed money for her teenage son’s first idea. Her son became a millionaire, and after that he didn’t need anybody else, as money begats money. Esther was true to her promise, so Saint Jude’s got an anonymous benefactor, appeal after appeal was answered. As for the Mafia, they begged her to continue playing poker, so she did, it was a bit of fun after all. Until they all got busted, and went to Sing Sing, they thought their families would suffer, but Esther sent them each a postcard. A friend in need is a friend in deed, love Esther and Saint Jude. You can guess the rest.

So the years past, and her son went from millionaire to billionaire, always so busy, he never had time for a wife. Italian girls were nice, Esther knew many, thanks to her poker playing, and connections with Saint Jude’s. She knew lots of Jews too, down the Temple  they all wanted to meet her son, but none seemed good enough. When there was a girl who could be daughter in law material Esther had them followed by satellite and on foot by ghosts. There would be no gold diggers trapping her son. There were several really nice girls, and she was about to introduce them to her son, but there always was a but. One was about to be mugged, but the ghost intervened and broke bones of all 4 of them. I should explain, special forces were the level of ghost Esther used. A bit like, James Bond, or Jason Bourne, or Rambo and Terminator, they were Esther’s boys. So on this occasion it was James Bond who intervened, and then the lady feel for him instantly, so he ended up marrying her. And yes History does repeat itself, so her ghosts got the girl, rather than her own son. But the Ghosts and their wives loved Esther the more.

Esther was at a Bar mitzvah for one of the Ghosts’ children and she had dragged her son along, the Temple had been double booked, but Fr. Michael had offered Saint Jude’s church hall, so there the Bar mitzvah was held. Her son was playing on his phone while Esther buzzed around like a bee, hearing all the news from her Ghosts’ families. As she buzzed around, Esther sighed, my family gets bigger, but not my own flesh and blood family. Esther sighed, she saw the statue of the Madonna in a corner. Maybe I’ve not done enough good works, Mary as one Jew to another, if only I could find a good wife for my son I could die happy, did you used to nag your son the same way?

Now God works in mysterious ways, at that very moment a serving girl, had fallen over Esther’s son’s stretched out legs. Crockery everywhere, her son’s phone smashed to the floor.  Everybody looked up, Fr. Michael was going to intervene, but a hand held him back, Esther knew, she just knew, as any Jewish mother knows. Her son helped the serving girl up, he apologized. Sorry, what’s your name? Mary, of course it was Mary. Esther looked the statue and winked, little did she know, they’d meet again in Malta.

It was thunder, Esther had searched high and low for a suitable wife  for her son, then one had fallen for him, or fallen over his feet. Mary was perfect in every way, no need for satellites or ghosts. Esther wrote a cheque for a million dollars and  put it in the poor box under the statue of Mary. She’s post one for 5 million to the Temple too,  her son was the 6 million dollar man after all, what with all his technology.

Now I could go on with the courting and so on, but what  people do in private it’s up to them, though the ghosts and their families did go on multiple holidays, as Esther wanted to make sure they used protection. As for Esther she went to Vegas, she’s fleece them, as her charity knew no bounds, she just had to keep on making money to give it all away.   

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heads up 15th Dec 2020

 

heads up 15th Dec 2020

Cancel in-person Xmas,

its obviously a Political decision to carry on regardless,

whereas common sense and a Medical decision is, STAY AWAY, or go to more Funerals.

Won’t make me popular anywhere, but as USA is learning the hard way, ignoring Common Sense, has led to 300,000 Deaths there, and 500,000 by the time the corner is turned.

So if you love your family, stay away from them this Christmas,

or it will be their LAST Christmas

A would be Dictator in USA, has had a major part in this in USA

and we all know about our own countries.

Now turning to the mundane, I will write a new new story today, sometime

7 countries and over 10 different languages were reading my rubbish yesterday

Maybe I’m lockdown reading, so thanks for visiting, and spread stories not Covid

The next story will be called Finding a Wife for my Son, you can all write your own story using that title and compare to mine later.

Stay Safe, WEAR A MASK, and read my rubbish