Thursday, 6 November 2025

Boris's Coat, somebody was reading this. RUSSIA leave Ukraine today, what are you doing in Ukraine anyway

am I ahead of my time again



 from 9 years ago

Monday, 31 October 2016

Boris's Coat



Boris’s Coat ©
By Michael Casey

Boris was a soldier, he was a good soldier  because he was still alive, that Winter had been hard, so very hard, it was the Winter that nearly killed him and Mother Russia too. But he and Mother Russia had survived to win the battle and then the war, the Nazis had been pushed back, and with the help God himself Mother Russia was to be freed from the Madness of Hitler.

Boris had a great big warm coat, this had saved his life so many times that Winter, the Winter the Nazis had tried and failed to kill Mother Russia itself. Boris had borrowed it from an officer, a political officer, Boris had said he’s kill him if he didn’t give it to him, so the officer had decided it was politically correct to hand it over. There was a tear inside it as the officer handed it over, or rather Boris snatched it from him, so Boris sewed it up and sewed inside it an icon of Saint Michael, they had been sheltering inside a church as they hid from the Nazis, so Boris thought the icon would help him just as much as the coat would.

By Stalin’s moustache he was right, no sooner had Boris poked his nose, and he did have a big red nose, outside the church when a Nazi sniper took aim at his heart. Boris fell back as if dead, only he soon realised he was not, the icon had taken the bullet instead of Boris’s heart. Boris immediately promised to lead a good life once the Nazis were defeated, though there were 6 million of them on the Eastern Front, none were on the beach having ice cream in France, why did the Nazi bastards come to Mother Russia in the first place, did they not know that Napoleon had tried and failed centuries ago.

While he was on his back Boris spotted where the Nazi snipper was, so he rose like a ghost and threw a grenade killing the bastard.  The political officer laughed, saying it served Boris right for stealing his coat. Once they edged forward Boris rescued the dead Nazi’s boots, they were a perfect fit, as for the Nazi’s coat the political officer had it, it had a fur collar so he was quiet happy now. Though Boris reminded him he might get shot at by our snipers so he had better put his ribbons on it, just in case anybody thought he was Hitler.

War is horrible but as you advance you get to improve your wardrobe as you kill the Nazi devils, though using the word devils is a disservice to devils. Boris got shot 3 or was it 4 more times but each bullet just passed through his coat, the political officer joked he must have mice living in it making all the holes. Boris threatened to make one in the political officer’s head, though the next day he did catch a mouse and was going to eat it but decided instead to keep it in his pocket to keep him warm, and once he fattened up the mouse he would eat it.

That mouse was with him when he liberated Berlin from Hitler’s evil, it was there too that Boris met a Yank called Hank. So in exchange for Boris’s coat Hank gave him 100 American cigarettes. Boris jumped at the exchange, before taking a coat off a dead Nazi whose body was still not cold. Those bastards should have their own very Hell to burn in, the suffering they brought to Mother Russia, by Stalin’s moustache it was  a close run thing until Russia strength beat those Nazi bastards into the ground.   

So the Yank  finished his war and Boris finished his war too, what became of them we’ll never know, or so we thought. You see History is a strange thing, and  it is a wonderful thing too.  Hank the Yank’s grandson became a History Professor and as for Boris his grandson became a History Professor too. One in San Francisco and another in Saint Petersburg, Hank’s grandson was on holiday in Saint Petersburg   and was in a bar drinking Russian Vodka, it was a weakness of his. So who did he meet, only Pavlov Boris’s grandson, the bar was called Stalin’s moustache.

They got talking and were amazed to discover the connection, Hank had died of heart failure only the year before, he had kept the coat and it was his stories that had encouraged his grandson Ryan to be a Historian. Of course the coat had to be returned, in fact Ryan had a friend in the State Department called Hillary, so Hillary put it in the Diplomatic bag and it was in Saint Petersburg within 36 hours.
And that’s how an International Friendship was fostered and rekindled, from one saint to another, from Francis to Peter, and an icon will always take a bullet for a sinner, any sinner.






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5630 piece, an old one from 2010 which proves my point about AI, and I was ahead of the curve, need I say more...

5630 piece  Wednesday, 11 August 2010 My Daddy's like Google he knows everything My Daddy’s like Google he knows everything © By Michael...

5630 piece, an old one from 2010 which proves my point about AI, and I was ahead of the curve, need I say more...

5630 piece 

Wednesday, 11 August 2010

My Daddy's like Google he knows everything

My Daddy’s like Google he knows everything ©

By Michael Casey

My kids were in London today for a day out  with my wife and one of her friends. Me I stayed home I’d picked up some bug last night , so I nursed my bug.

The girls were all excited when they came home and my smallest one was telling a story. It began with a box fell from the sky, but it was no ordinary box, it was a magic box.  So I told her to keep the idea in her head and she could write it out in the morning, it was late now. Her bigger sister observed that when she wrote she wrote all posh, but when she talked she did not. I then tried to explain the difference between :- speaking, writing, presenting, teaching. Some people may be able to do one but this does not prove/equate to being able to do another. Then my smallest let loose with the line that I was Google and should be a teacher and that I should write kids books. I’ll do anything IF somebody sponsors me, or becomes my patron, though in my case it would be Saint Rita or Saint Jude themselves who’d help. Thinking back to 1969 I did win a Junior Free Handwriting Competition, I have the certificate somewhere, Brook Bond sponsored it, I’d forgotten about it till just now.

Daddy, any daddy has to try and be an encyclopaedia to give his kids some information, in some SciFi film  or it may have been in Dr Who I saw a battered Robot became the teacher, with holograms too. If only I could be some sort of magician, then that would be swell as the Americans say, card tricks with lessons on, slight of hand passing messages of learning. I am award that I have to try hard and give good information out, otherwise 1984 becomes a reality, rubbish becomes fact, and facts become rubbish. There are more questions than answers, luckily I’m very eclectic so I can give a base camp answer, then watch as their minds click and you can see from their expression, from the look in their eyes that they understand and they can begin to work things out for themselves or just have a look online.  The main thing though is that Daddy, this daddy, me, encourages his girls to use their brains.
The cobwebs may grow IF I didn’t have children asking this and asking that. In a couple of years time my biggest daughter can read my book, it’s a 12 certificate so although she’s seen it she’ll just have to wait for the dubious honour of reading daddy’s The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker.

Wednesday, 5 November 2025

https://www.theguardian.com/profile/ella-baron


https://www.theguardian.com/profile/ella-baron

If you want a treat for Guy Fawkes night click link

Ella Baron is a Fantastic Political Cartoonist

Ella , I’m so impressed and slightly jealous. I can only draw cartoons made with words

You speak so fast too, slow down a bit I have Tinnitus

thank you

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TAKEOUT READY so Hong Kong do you want it?

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