Tuesday 26 November 2019

Heaven's Devils

well you guys are far flung

Indonesia, Japan, Russia and Ukraine and USA of course

I'm stuck in the middle with you, which is a song title

here in Birmingham England

so I was thinking about this story, so I'm bring it back

it's one of my favs

hello to Columbia too, they were having a read recently ( I have 4 sites)


Heaven’s Devils ©
By Michael Casey
Rodrigo was a bad man, a very bad man. He had lied and cheated and killed his way all over Central America, but he was good at his job. He was a killer for the cartels. Obviously he was going straight to Hell, the hottest part of Hell itself, but he neither cared nor believed. He was BAD with a Capital B, Michael Jackson could sing and dance and prance as much as he wanted but compared to Rodrigo, he was just DEAD with a capital D. Jackson was not Bad, he was Sad with a silly voice and bad dance moves, and he was DEAD. Rodrigo was the MAN and his moves left a trail of Death all over Central America.
Rodrigo had no friends, but he did have one cousin, Miguel was his name, and he too was a bad man, a very bad man, who like Rodrigo lied and cheated and killed his way all over Central America. They used to send postcards to each other, with cartoons written on the back showing how many and how they had killed their latest victims. The postmen just assumed it was children scrawling things. But to the FBI it was evidence.
Rodrigo and Miguel were tasked to kill a priest who condemned the drugs trade from the pulpit. So obviously they sat at the back and enjoyed the sermon, they would slit his throat after the Mass and steal the offerings too on the way out. Only Fr. Camillo had other ideas, he was not stupid he knew when death was calling him, and today after Sunday Mass was the day. But the thing about Death is that it is not the Master, there is only one Master, and today the Holy Ghost was in town. Now the Holy Ghost was faster and quicker than any assassin, so Rodrigo and Miguel had better watch their backs.
Now who or what is the Holy Ghost? Well the Holy Ghost was a retired CIA assassin, he knew Fr. Camillo from high school, and every day Fr. Camillo had prayed for his dark and evil soul. If the thief on the cross could be spared and Saul could become Paul, then the Holy Ghost could be saved too. And so he was, the Holy Ghost became plain old Sancho, he was Fr. Camillo’s invisible bodyguard. Any time the cartels sent a hit man to kill Fr. Camillo the hit man disappeared off the face of the earth. In actual fact, Sancho cut their ear off and posted it back to the cartel. As for the hit men, they just retired to Miami, thanking God they were still alive, though slightly hard of hearing. They grew their hair and enjoyed all their ill -gotten gains.
Rodrigo and Miguel were about to strike, when Sancho hit them first. They awoke to find themselves tied up chickens ready to go in the oven. Fr. Camillo blessed them with Holy Water, Sancho who had been drinking relieved himself on them. They were about to swear, but Sancho hit them with two Bibles across the face. There will be no more swearing ever, Repent or Die, with that Fr. Camillo threw a bucket of Holy Water over each of them. Now the Holy Spirit the real Holy Spirit works in most strange ways, Rodrigo and Miguel had come to kill, but now they would become savers.
They were shackled and told to read the Bible, every day Sancho fed them and Fr. Camillo blessed them, the Holy Spirit did his work too. That is the real Holy Spirit and the Sancho the retired assassin. Sleep deprived and forced to change, this was no road to Damascus, this was Central America. How many months it took I do not know, but I do know, light began to shine in their hearts, a tiny tiny light, but Fr. Camillo could feel it. The Holy Spirit was at work. Sancho had to go away with his donkey Panza for supplies, so with a wave and reminding the prisoners that there would be a 1000 question Bible test when he returned he disappeared like a Ghost, a Holy Ghost maybe.
Now an ill wind blows no good, and fools rush in where angels fear to tread. The cartels had not received any ears lately so they dispatched an entire squad to kill Fr. Camillo. Would they manage to finally kill Fr. Camillo? In the jungle whistles broke through the animal sounds. To Rodrigo and Miguel it was obvious what was about to happen, they smiled. The old priest would get his comeuppance. But as they read their Bibles, the gentle breeze of the Holy Spirit fell upon them. The Padre Pio prayer card which had acted as bookmark, fell from their Bibles, Padre Pio’s face gave them a hard stare. As Mrs Casey would say, don’t give me any cheek or I’ll slap you in the puss with the mop bucket. They had had enough of murder, it was now time to save. This was their Damascus moment.
So like any good assassins, Roderigo and Miguel broke free from their shackles and slipped away.
The assassination squad numbered 10, but 10 divided by 2 is 5, and 5 to 1 were easy odds as far as they were concerned. As Fr. Camillo prayed they took action, then 10 became 9, became 8, became 7, became 6 and then Panza the donkey came to the rescue. Panza distracted the assassination squad while Miguel and Roderigo with the returned Sancho finished off the 10. All of whom were tied up like chickens ready for the oven.
Don’t think you’ll not having your Bible test, after supper will be you final test. They spun round it was Fr.Camillo who had finished praying. They followed him into the jungle, there on the ground was another 10 men, how come to assassinate him. They were the advance party, I sorted them out myself, they were such amateurs. So they tied those ten up and dragged them to join the others. 20 men sent to kill just one priest. Roderigo and Miguel bowed their heads, you love God so much and the send so many killers to get you.
Fr.Camillo blessed them and they all had supper, afterwards Sancho gave them their 1000 question Bible test. So what happens now? Well said Fr. Camillo, Sancho has some friends in the CIA they could use men like you. But we aren’t killers any more, you know I think we could become Christians, real Christian, do you think your boss would accept people like us. Of course he can, but listen to Sancho. So Sancho explained the CIA or the friends of friends of the CIA needed bodyguards, not close protection ones, but invisible bodyguards to protect special people from a distance, and maybe sometimes to intervene. They would become Ghosts, Holy Ghosts if you like.
Roderigo and Miguel took all of 2 seconds to say yes. But don’t you need more than 2 sometimes? Well yes explained Sancho, after I cut off all those ears and previous assassins are official dead I stay in touch with the “dead” so to speak, and they do me favours occasionally. What about these 20, they are the worst of the worst. Well you could help us re-educate them. So after they had cut both ears off all 20 assassins, they chained them up and Bible school began. Fr. Camillo was left alone after that the cartels gave up on him, the Sicorro was blowing after all.
Now where did Roderigo and Miguel go? Well if you remember Mrs Murphy likes to visits lots and lots of churches and some are not in nice places. And her Jewish friend Esther has a zillionaire son who makes satellites for CIA etc. Well a satellite is all fine and dandy but Esther worries about her friends, her close friends. So it makes Esther sleep easier knowing that the Holy Ghost Protection Society is only a heartbeat away.











Monday 25 November 2019

Today's Desk

Today’s Desk ©
By
Michael Casey

Well my new story rate has slowed down, I was all stiff and could barely walk due to my bad back, its an 11 year old injury that revisits me from time to time. It’s like the tide that comes and goes and then there are seasonal tides, though in my case it’s pain. Ok, I’ll shut up about pain, you just want a story. So throw another log on the imaginary fire, or snuggle under the bed clothes with your girlfriend, ok with the dog, but put your hunting riffle under the bed on safety. You don’t want to shoot yourself, even if my writing is that bad, you are not Hemingway reading me.

So to today’s story. Today’s Desk. There are 2 desks in this room, my desk and there was space for a 2nd desk in this room, here in the new house. Which is an old house, but we spent too much that we cannot afford doing it up, so it’s the new house. Up the hill from the old house. The irony is that it was this hill that alerted me to my bad heart, and it was thanks to the nurse insisting on sending me for tests that saved my life nearly 5 years ago now. The hill was so steep I could hardly breath, I used to wake up in bed breathless sometimes too, and Ukrainians you are smirking at the back, I just hope you put your riffle on safety, otherwise the cat will set it off, or should I say Setitoff, the cat’s name. How would you explain a hole in your mattress and a bullet in your butt?

Joking apart, was that the leaves on a tree moving in the wind, or just a Ukrainian walking towards the house, you are all so big, so very big.
Now back to the story, the desk. I looked at the other desk in the morning when I finally got out of bed, and it made me smile. Why, because my small daughter’s giant size mug was in the corner. So it made me think of her. Books and notes are open ready to read, as well as flash cards, freshly arrived from the Amazon, at least they are not plastic. Shelving for this and that too, which her big sister left behind while she’s at University doing BioChem 200+ lads and 20 girls I think. And yes of course she’s in the top 10% do you think she’d be like me?
Now back to little sister, she has highlighters and low lighters on her desk, everything at the ready. Felt tips are passe, if you’re a dad you’ll know about this already. A student, must have the right kit, highlighters or lowlighters from Japan, Muji I think they are called. I just pay for them. We are an international family after all, I’ve not moved 3 miles from where I was born, I’ve only ever lived in 2 houses, this is now the 3rd, but mother was from Shanghai, our kids are Chinese/Irish where do you think the brains came from? Iceland, as in the country? No, Iceland the frozen food store, and not brains but bains faggots. You readers are horrible sometimes, after all the 1,535,000 words I’ve given you, I hope Setitoff does just that.

Ok I’m going to sulk now, say sorry or I’ll not finish the tale. Have you said sorry? Or did you just curse me? The central heating controls have stopped working again, so icicles might appear amongst my words, it’s something simple, the central heating, my dinner too. While YOU were sulking, I put the dinner on. Small daughter has just arrived, so I must attend to her, so you can play with Setitoff the cat, but watch out because if my cat Totoro turns up, she will fire your riffle, so better lock it away properly while I have dinner and play with the central heating controls. And no Vodka would warm me up, but really, really.

Ok, it’s a few days later and our Ukrainian plumber has saved us, so we are happy and warm, he is excellent by the way, an Olympian of Plumbing. His son loves reading too. So now I’ll continue, I look to the left and the other desk is spotless, my small daughter has moved all her rubbish upstairs. Her mocks started today, Jane Eyre and Citizenship, so I’m pleased they went well. Now that the heat is back to normal she won’t join me here in the study but will move to the kitchen and her spot at the kitchen table next to the radiator. It’s her preferred spot, where she feels comfortable and warm, a big thanks to our Ukrainian Olympian plumber again.

We all have a favourite spot where we study, my big sister used to sit over the palin as we called it, sat on a chair next to the big hedge by Mrs Patrick’s in the summer sun. In the winter she sat right next to the old coal fire reading a book, so close that the criss-cross of the metal fire guard marked or even branded her legs. As for me I used to stay up late reading Alistair McClean books, Guns of Navorone if I’ve spelt that right, I think there were 17 of them in total, so I’ve out-written him, in quantity if not in quality. This was 35 years ago, in my big reading period, I used to go to bed in the cold as the heating was all off and it was always 2am I seem to remember. So cold is a theme there. And just as I say that a Polish delivery guy has just brought a small oil heater, see God has perfect timing even if my writing does not. I’ll test it then put it away, now that the central heating is back on.

I suppose God tests us too and puts us at the back of the queue, is that Obama I can see there, what did he do wrong? Apart from not grooming future leaders, or is he doing that? Maybe he’ll send me an irate email, I’d rather he sent me a bag of chips, not microchips, fish and chip chips. I was going to have a fancy desk like the Resolute desk, only that would have spoilt the new look at the new house so I’m here to one side of the chimney breast and the other desk is at the other side of the chimney breast, like twin desks suckling on a chimney. At least you can lie on the rug on the floor or flake out on the settee behind. That’s how the room was designed. Work hard at at desk then chill on the rug or the couch behind as you Americans call it.

I hope my girls started their paths to PhDs via the student desk to my left. Me and my desk, with a 10 year old LCD tv as a monitor are going nowhere, just down or is it up the garden path with you my readers being led by an invisible string. Where am I taking you all? How would I know? I’m just the writer, with fairy dust in my eyes, but at least my fridge has ice cold drinks inside. Yes I’m perverse, froze to death inside and outside and now I’m drinking ice cold Dr Pepper. If you want to moan leave a complaint, on the complaints desk.








   

Sunday 24 November 2019

Another K pop Death

As you know I love Kdrama and like a bit of Kpop too

I've only just read today about another Kpop death


Let There Be Light ©


By Michael Casey


Let my tears be my words

Let the candle light be my eyes

Let the flowers in bloom be my lips

Let their scent be my blood

Let the wind be my breath

Let clouds be my mood

Let children's laughter be my hope

Let widows' sighs be my conscience

Let a stranger's prayers be my delight

Let the bees be my wisdom

Let the trees be my strength

Let my patience reach to the stars

Let me be always remembered in your prayers


ALL of us should pray for Goo Hara and then  reflect what part have we paid in her death
Could any of us have helped her to Live

As a dad of daughters we'd do anything to help our daughters, so the question is how should you help your
local Kpop star.

If you claim to love your Kpop stars then you should treat them like your daughters and not a commodity 

Rest in Peace Goo Hara.







quiet i'm studying

quiet i'm studying

well my small daughter is, the first of her mocks start in the morning

i'm just pottering about, no relation to Harry

as for the Harry he looks silly in that beard

you saw how bad i look with a beard

so i shaved it off once i was able to stand up long enough after my bad back

well I hope you all harvest the site when new stories are not available

i'm not a cow to be milked every day after all

though cousins in Kerry do have cattle

so hello to the Kingdom   and  the Casey Clan

and yes we are a clan

I'm enjoying Alexa, though we renamed it immediately

the dot speaker is great sound quality

find Messing with Alexa from  a few weeks ago

Cold Pursuit  was  a funny and good film, so watch for yourself

I started to watch The King  about Hal as in Shakespeare but I stoppped

I may try again, as I did it in school for English Lit back in 1975, yes I'm that old

But not in spirit, I'm 20 in my head

No laughing, or I'll come and live next door to you

That shut you up

Indonesia is joined the Bemused Readers club lately so hello to them

The TRANSLATIONS  are doing great over  on  Wordpress

 As  I keep on saying if it were rubbish nobody would bother

but 1000s of file downloads of Translations have happened

The English can be read via Amazon books

Just look for The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker on Amazon

But you have to pay for my original English

If  ever I get noticed the Translation will disappear

as this writer has to provide for his student daughters

So you have been warned

Tinnitus comes and goes at night, or rather the staying awake till dawn

as ever a Sine  Curve plays with my life, either pain or lack of sleep

at the local store they think I'm just that bore

and yes that was a cheap rhythm as there is no crime

Dig out your Sky music and have a listen

I'm thinking back to 30 years  ago now as I listen

I soak up things that interest me

but important thinks  like work related stuff never stuck in my head

So I was a Babysitter most of my life

Watching computers and printers

and then people via hotel work and my Esol teaching

ok I'll let you all study now

you can work your way through 10 years worth of stuff

on this site

what a punishment

and all you really want to do is ogle my beautiful profile

yes, you just objectify me,

and if you believe that then you believe in fairies

or I'm  a really good writer

stop laughing at me





1/2 a story is better than none

1/2 a story is better than none

Today’s Desk ©
By
Michael Casey

Well my new story rate has slowed down, I was all stiff and could barely walk due to my bad back, its an 11 year old injury that revisits me from time to time. It’s like the tide that comes and goes and then there are seasonal tides, though in my case it’s pain. Ok, I’ll shut up about pain, you just want a story. So throw another log on the imaginary fire, or snuggle under the bed clothes with your girlfriend, ok with the dog, but put your hunting rifle under the bed on safety. You don’t want to shoot yourself, even if my writing is that bad, you are not Hemingway reading me.

So to today’s story. Today’s Desk. There are 2 desks in this room, my desk and there was space for a 2nd desk in this room, here in the new house. Which is an old house, but we spent too much that we cannot afford doing it up, so it’s the new house. Up the hill from the old house. The irony is that it was this hill that alerted me to my bad heart, and it was thanks to the nurse insisting on sending me for tests that saved my life nearly 5 years ago now. The hill was so steep I could hardly breath, I used to wake up in bed breathless sometimes too, and Ukrainians you are smirking at the back, I just hope you put your rifle on safety, otherwise the cat will set it off, or should I say Setitoff, the cat’s name. How would you explain a hole in your mattress and a bullet in your butt?

Joking apart, was that the leaves on a tree moving in the wind, or just a Ukrainian walking towards the house, you are all so big, so very big.
Now back to the story, the desk. I looked at the other desk in the morning when I finally got out of bed, and it made me smile. Why, because my small daughter’s giant size mug was in the corner. So it made me think of her. Books and notes are open ready to read, as well as flash cards, freshly arrived from the Amazon, at least they are not plastic. Shelving for this and that too, which her big sister left behind while she’s at University doing BioChem, 200+ lads and 20 girls I think. And yes of course she’s in the top 10% do you think she’d be like me?
Now back to little sister, she has highlighters and low lighters on her desk, everything at the ready. Felt tips are passe, if you’re a dad you’ll know about this already. A student, must have the right kit, highlighters or lowlighters from Japan, Muji I think they are called. I just pay for them. We are an international family after all, I’ve not moved 3 miles from where I was born, I’ve only ever lived in 2 houses, this is now the 3rd, but mother was from Shanghai, our kids are Chinese/Irish where do you think the brains came from? Iceland, as in the country? No, Iceland the frozen food store, and not brains but bains faggots. You readers are horrible sometimes, after all the 1,535,000 words I’ve given you, I hope Setitoff does just that.

Ok I’m going to sulk now, say sorry or I’ll not finish the tale. Have you said sorry? Or did you just curse me? The central heating controls have stopped working again, so icicles might appear amongst my words, it’s something simple, the central heating, my dinner too. While YOU were sulking, I put the dinner on. Small daughter has just arrived, so I must attend to her, so you can play with Setitoff the cat, but watch out because if my cat Totoro turns up, she will fire your rifle, so better lock it away properly while I have dinner and play with the central heating controls. And no Vodka would warm me up, but really, really.
OK THIS ONE IS TO BE CONTINUED
Today 7 different languages read off the screen,   and Italy and South Africa are having a read on this WordPress. So thank you all, though a miracle of BUYING a book  in my Original English would be good.

here on Blogger and this one is the MAIN site
Indonesia is having a read so hello to you too
so remember to spread the word worldwide  about
Michael Casey The fat silver haired writer in shades from Birmingham England
which is what they should google to find me, and not my namesake
Korean Valentine PoemKOREAN TRANSLATION Still Alive 2015Korean Still Alive 2015Kasap Fırıncı ve Taahhüt © tarafındanBBU IndonesianBBU ITALIANBengali Translation of BBUBBU UrduBBU in Indian HindipersianBBUPORTUGUESE BBU2019China BBU-convertedChina BBU-convertedВ поисках индийской принцессыWydanie polskie Still Alive 2015win Wiersze dla wszystkichThe Polish TranslationsThe Polish Translationspolish Guardian AngelPolish Edition of Still Alive 2015Michael Casey The Polish Translations페이지 1 Quick Stories KOREAN아직도 살아있는 2015ページ1 Quick Stories in Japaneseインドのプリンセスを検索するにはインドのプリンセスを検索するには – CopyЭТО МОЙ ЛИФТ ADСтраница 1shoplife spanishJapanese elevator AdvertBBU GermanBBU French50 Spanish Examples50 Spanish Examplesbbumar2008-en-zh-cn-1BBUMar2008.en.zh-CN (1)BBU in HebrewBBU in Arabic300 وBBU Russian Translation microsoft wordBBU in KOREANBBU GermanBBU French50 Spanish ExamplesKOREAN TRANSLATION Still Alive 2015The Polish TranslationsSpanish BBU아직도 살아있는 2015아직도 살아있는 2015아직도 살아있는 2015

Published by michaelgcasey

I've updated this today 17th Oct 2019 I'm Michael Casey from Birmingham England, the fat silver haired writer in shades. Beware of Others with the EXACT SAME NAME, they are not me, and would not want to be me ... I've done loads of writing, 1,531,000 Words worth over 30 years now But before I started I LISTENED to BBC Radio 4 for 20 years, from the age of 10 or younger Frank Brown our lodger, went back to County Tyrone and he gifted us his Bush Radio He'd be nearly 100 now if he is still alive, so say a prayer for him 50 years in love with words, and I still look so dashing. I almost immediately had a hit, a play called Shoplife was accepted but not finally produced by a Theatre The Kenneth More Theatre, so thank them for sparing you all. This was back in 1989 I also had other high praise, so I ignore all the nasty negative people who use too much alliteration I also ignore those who just cannot write, making money does not mean you can tell a story Pick your own famous writer, who you avoid Today's world has much print, but a page will not refuse ink, as my dad used to say I tend to write Comedy as I'd rather make you laugh than cry I must have written over 2000 short pieces of writing, yes 2000 My first book ,a full length comedy/drama is The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker You can read translations of it here on this site Up to 7 different languages/translations have been read on the same day via this site, here on Wordpress so you have no excuse, find your own language and read The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker This proves to me that the humour does travel I have readers in over 60 countries now Or its just a hit man on the run, or bored Navy Seals or whatever Unknown Region Means It may also mean that only non English Speakers like my stuff I did get 21,000 readers in 3 weeks for the Polish version of In Search of an Indian Princess which is basically the final 3 chapters of The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker I also had a low budget film producer take a look at it Book Publishers have said I've made the commissioning editor laugh Radio People say they like my style So close but no cigar is the story of my life As for my life, I was a computer operator for a market research company into alcohol sales I also was a concierge and an Esol English teacher in an Islamic school I can always make somebody talk or laugh, I am an 18 stone George Clooney look alike Laugh or Die so to speak I believe my short stories could be used to teach English, just package them up correctly or App them What else, I was brawn and brains, I used to be as strong as an Ox, now I just smell like one We have a cat called Totoro, my daughters wanted a pet I said they could have a dog if I died , or a cat if I had a heart attack. A few weeks after that in Jan 2015 I had an Unplanned Quadruple Heart Bypass , it was supposed to be a triple but it ended up a Quadruple, 33% extra free so to speak. I also have arthritis and other hindrances that hobble my body and give me pain galore. But my mind is free, though having read my stories you may wish I didn't bother But I'll ignore you, and carry on regardless. That's the end of the tidy version of my life, if you want more come and buy me a Stella Artois and all will be revealed. Though 12 pints a year is my ration. To finish here's the list of my 18 books, so far:- 1.The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker 2.Shoplife 3.Essays and Plays 4.Blogs 2011 5.300 and Not OUT 6.Shorts 2013 7.More Shorts 2014 8.Quick Stories 9.Still Alive 2015 10.Undiscovered Words 2016 11.Still Smiling 2017 12.Altogether Now 13.New Horizons 14.14 Up 15.15 Down 16.Sweet Sixteen 17. 17 Again 18. 18 New Views My 19th book will be The 19th Hole and Donald Trump will review it when he resigns https://www.amazon.co.uk/Michael-Casey/e/B00571G0YC to buy ebooks ok, that's your lot, this reads serious, but generally I refuse to be serious, though I do heckle the news for 50 years now TTFN Michael Casey p.s. my email is michaelgcasey@hotmail.com for all praise, I get enough Junk email already

The weave

The Weave (c) by Michael Casey SOB ,  (son of a blacksmith from Kerry Ireland)  The weave makes something strong  and the pattern on/in the ...