You've got to check out the link.
He's been acting like a god. Thor, specifically.
https://photos.app.goo.gl/XzwA3bC18qjJfXt98

I guess that's what has to keep happening when the world is one colour and you are something else.

Wright, for Shaw, P is shit.

Plus

This isn't to do with what's black and White.
This is to do with what's wrong and Wright.

GNS stands for Grower Not Shower! "Go buy the shirt! It is a defence to the psychopathic Realpolitik of "Size Matters", should you have any reason to think biatches be storing that".

I recruited Michael because he was a Chessmaster, and we developed some very whitty acronyms and slogans.

Wright, for Shaw, P is shit, was arguably the finest, involving me, a woman surnamed Shaw, and an answer to a 50% English Language Paper given to a question of, "In your own words, what do you think of your (P) institution. We all thought P was shit, as in all of it, we were auditing it for different periods. I gave this impression across during a fine dining evening with the partners and staff celebrating exam passes, and didn't say anything to the contrary since. And so, Michael approached me with the slogan, as a reference to how there are individuals like Shaw and me who each thought the entire idea of P was shit. Now, if Michael only went around with this, his enemies might think, so what?
Yet, I thought this too and I am now an equity partner in a Big 4 Firm of accountants. You can assume I am earning over a million in a year until I retire.
Thanks,
Andy

There was a just killer in Michael's family, during his childhood years, that had to be kept secret from the world.

A long time ago, Michael and I were playing pool next to the bar. The average height of those around the table being six foot funny, I mean four.

We hadn't known each other that long, were finding out each others' value systems while potting balls.

Last orders had happened when a short, wimpy, and tipsy arts undergraduate peeks their head around the entrance and says something out of Dutch Courage muffled at us.

I took one look at him and, like a polar bear, focused back at the table and played a shot. Michael glanced at me, had a chance to say something to the poor little beggar, but, as cool as anything, wasn't going to say pardon for himself or the rest of us at that table. He just looked, half look, half stare, at the wimp, while I wasn't giving arts face any attention, so to speak.

The story concluded with the mumbling undergraduate, upon realising none of us were going to say anything, said more clearly this time, "{Alright}, I'm going to my room to die now", and left.

Timeless memories, Michael. Timeless.

Auf Deutsch, zum Wohle von Florian, Stefan und Claudia, und hat mich seit diesem letzten Post zum Nachdenken gebracht.


Die meisten Kommentare geben den respektvollen RIP.

Doch der Tod war für Michael nur der Anfang.


Er ist nicht nur zwei Meter unter der Erde, in einem madensicheren Gefäß, und tut nicht viel an irgendeinem Ort...


Das ist wunderbar zu hören, Warren!


Diese beiden Charakterzüge in dem Mann-o-Krieg, der Michael war, hatten sich in mir und meinem Bruder getrennt.


Ich entschied mich für Akademiker, eine Karriere im Finanzwesen, und er tat es nicht – stattdessen waren seine sozialen Medien damit gefüllt, mit automatischen Waffen Dosen vom Zaun zu schießen und hysterisch für das Foto zu lachen.

Er war vielleicht oder vielleicht auch nicht die Quelle der Geschichte, wie ein Landbesitzer Touristen auf seiner Farm herumführte und sie in der Ferne einen Afrikaner sahen, sagte er, der wie ein Eindringling aussieht, auf sie herumschießt, Afrikaner zu Fall kommt Boden, Touristen sehen sich an, fällt nichts Besseres ein, als einfach nur da zu stehen, bis der Besitzer sie woanders hinführt. Am Ende der Tour treffen sie den Afrikaner, der nicht erschossen wurde, und der Besitzer sagt: „Er arbeitet für mich. Dies ist ein Spiel, das wir mit jedem in deiner Haut spielen. Wir wollten sehen, wie du reagieren würdest. Wir hatten welche Witze bereit."


Michael, Roger Moore war besser mit einer Schrotflinte als der Partner, der ein paar besaß, der oft Tauben schießt. Ein anderer Partner legte einen Arm um ihn, um zu sagen: „Herzlichen Glückwunsch, Micky! Du hast Mark Mountain geschlagen!"


Wenn ich die Lösung für mich nicht habe, hat mein Bruder sie und umgekehrt...


Stephen Warhol Maloney

Most comments giving the respectful RIP.
Yet, death, for Michael, was only the beginning.

He ain't just six feet underground, in a maggotproof vessel, not doing much in some place...

That is wonderful to hear, Warren!

These two traits in the man-o-war that was Michael had separated out into me and my brother.

I choose academics, a career in finance, and he didn't - instead his social media has been filled with shooting tins off the fence with automatic weapons and laughing hysterically for the photo.
He may or may nor have been the source of the story of how a land owner was showing tourists round his farm and in the distance they saw an African man, he said that looks like a trespasser, shoots round at them, African falls to the ground, tourists look at each other, can think of nothing better to do than just stand there until the owner guides them somewhere else. At the end of the tour they meet the African who wasn't shot and the owner says, "He works for me. This is a game we play with everyone in your shoes. We wanted to see how you would respond. We had some jokes ready."

Michael, was Roger Moore better with a shotgun than the Partner who owned a few, who goes pigeon shooting, often. Another Partner putting an arm round him to say, "Congratulations Mickey! You beat Mark Mountain!"

If I don't have the solution, for myself, my brother does and vice versa...

Stephen Warhol Maloney

Communicating in English, home or away, can get you what these days? Can you claim citizenship of a powerful military English speaking country, start writing letters to that government saying what your wishes are they do with their military might, in English?
Money talks!

Michael provided me with fear humour of what others have gone open with using English as the voice to do that with.

Music wise, Michael showed me: Rosé, The Feeling.
Some band does soft rock on a wine!
Lol yet also not lol?

And then there was the below letter written a decade ago, which I got shown.
I said to Michael, it's people who use English like that which scare the ballistics out of me! Why can't they share English love/breakup letters they wrote over girlfriends / boyfriends? Michael gave me a subtle smile and said, "oh, believe me, they have draft love letters of that length, in English, it's just young men and women who use English nowadays; they're all crazy. Stick to getting on PeoplePill and your entourage will follow"

"Dearest Stonewall,

It’s over.  I’m sorry.

It’s hard even to pen these words to you, though I’m sure that the pain will pass in time.  But this has to be done; I’m breaking up with you, once and for all.  Please don’t try to convince me otherwise – you know the effect you have on me.  If you love me the way you claim to, you’ll let me go, for both of our sakes.

I know we said we’d be together forever, but sometimes things just have to end.  You see, I just can’t put up with the hurt any more.  Time and time again you burn me, only to suck me in once more with promises of improvement. “It’ll be better next time”, you’d say, staring at me with those soft f5-d5 eyes, pointing straight at the outpost of my heart.  “Things just kind of happened, but it was only this one time”, you’d plead after yet another heartbreaking loss.  “My love for you is rock solid”, you’d lie, as I’d watch yet another line of my defenses crumble under a white assault.

Like the lovestruck fool I was, I’d keep coming back, only to be burned yet again.  It’s taken time, but I’ve finally summoned the strength to confront the brutal truth: you’re not to be trusted.  And so, it’s over.

Sure, we had some times.  Oh, how we had some times!  The scent of the quick kingside mating attack, the beautiful positional grind, the flamboyant endgame finish.  You sucked me in with your promises of a partnership full of joy and success, and there were times when I could really believe it.  But, in the cold, harsh light of hindsight, I realise that those blissful moments stand sparse against the dense foliage of demoralising suffocation.  When it was good, it was really good.  But, dear Stonewall, those fleeting minatures just aren’t enough.  I’ve had enough of your games.

Now that the decision to break up is final in my heart, I’ve allowed myself the small luxury of reminiscing about our relationship.  I even remember the first time we met.  I remember laying eyes on your gloriously symmetric pawn structure and being simply awed by the simplicity of your character.  A few simple moves against any opposition and your true personality rang out loud and clear: a gloriously solid physique, beautifully elegant plans and such powerful domination of the e4 square.  I recall your humble yet confident dismissal of the e5 weakness, the graceful movement and flow of the pieces under the strength of your command, and the inevitable magic that fills a room when you announce the triumphant reemergence of your c8 bishop.  How could anyone not be attracted to such an aura? How could anyone not want to be a part of such exuberance forever?  How could I not fall for your charm?

I remember the first time we were together.  It wasn’t your typical romance – I wielded the white pieces for our first outing – but you’ve never been one for soppy conventions.  I expected we’d take things slow, get a feel for each other and gradually explore the position we’d created – but you had other ideas.  You had me well in your clutches, and before I could stop myself, I was falling, head over heels, doing things I never thought I would with an opening I’d just met.  I’d expected a calm, restrained positional grind from our first outing, but as early as move eleven I found myself sacrificing a piece for a tantalising central attack.  Mate followed moments later, and after such exhilaration  I knew there could be no turning back.  You had me at “f4″.

(http://www.chessvibes.com/davidsmerdon/revolutionise-your-tragedies)

I was young, naive, and overwhelmed with how you made me feel.  But after our second date, I really should have known better.  It was the very next day, and despite promising me all the satisfactions of our first time in the match against Nick Pert, you burned me right at the last minute.  At first, I simply couldn’t believe you could be so cruel.  But you were quick to defend your actions, claiming we were simply a “victim of circumstances”, that you’d never foreseen that things would go sour, and that your deserting me for Nick was “a one-off, never to be repeated.”

Like a fool, I believed you, to my peril.

As the games wore on, I found myself less and less enthused by the positions you placed me in.  That centre of strength I so admired in those early days begun to appear weak, barely supported on a haphazard foundation of your lies.  The e4 sparkle when you smiled began to lose its lustre, quickly dissolved by a brash f3 push.  Suddenly, everyone seemed to want to play 1.d4 against me, as if they knew something about you that I did not.  Time and again you promised me it wasn’t so, but the twinkle in the eyes of my opponents when I pushed my f-pawn seemed to suggest that something was going on.  I kept on lying to myself, convinced that it was all coincidence, that their victories were due to chance and not because you’d allowed them into your intimate secrets.  Of course, now I know it was all a ruse.  Deep down, I guess I always knew that there were others, that your love for me was never as strong and commited as the pawn centre you made it out to be.  I fooled myself into believing otherwise, but for months, the writing had been on the Wall.

(http://www.chessvibes.com/davidsmerdon/the-drywall-returns)

But Stonewall, the last Olympiad really was the final straw.  Two draws from four games was more than my fragile heart could bear.  The final match against Lubomir Ftachnik told me once and for all that you were not to be trusted.  My captain, my friends and even strangers I’d never met before have been telling me for months you’re nothing but trouble, but it took until this game for the facade of your charm to finally give way to my own realisation.  Even afterwards, you had the nerve to claim that we still had an equal endgame, that it wasn’t your fault my position immediately fell into cruel passivity at the hands of a seasoned expert.  Yes, Stonewall, I know now just why he seemed so at ease in handling your structure.  A little bird told me that you and him had flirted in no less than twenty games, that you’d given him all of your secrets, ignorant or more likely unaffected by the hurt it would cause me.  I never stood a chance.

(http://www.chessvibes.com/davidsmerdon/olympiad-round-11-%E2%80%93-highs-and-lows)

Oh Stonewall, you do have a way with the Grandmasters, don’t you?  I don’t know how many others there were, and, now that we are finally over, I don’t care.  I’ve moved on, at least emotionally.  There isn’t anyone else, in case you were wondering – at least not yet.  You’ve left a gaping hole in my repertoire, and it needs time to mend before I can think about you replacing me with someone else.  But I know in myself that I’m a good guy who deserves a decent opening, one that treats me right, sees me through the rough patches, cares for me, and doesn’t leave me high and dry when I’m most in need.  Already I’ve had a call from the Grunfeld, asking me out for a few blitz games at our local cafe.  I had to decline – I’m not quite ready for that level of theory – but perhaps, some day, I’ll consider giving a kingside fianchetto another go.  And the f-pawn will definitely be kept very much at home.

Now that it’s over, Stonewall, I want you to know that I’m not angry at you.  I wouldn’t give you the satisfaction. But I do feel sorry for  you, and even more so for those to come who fall victim to your appeal.  Despite your outward allure, I know now that, deep down, you’re simply unsound.  It hurts to know you kept it hidden from me for so long, but I’ll not lower myself to petty insults or immersing myself in any more of your childish games.  I’m above that.  You may have broken my heart and stripped bare my ELO points, but you’ll never take my dignity.

I’d wish you good luck and success in your future, but knowing now what I do about the permanent weaknesses of your structure and your complete disregard for your c8 bishop, I feel it would be wasted breath.  So instead, let me finish by saying that I choose to remember the good times – the swashbuckling kingside mates, the dainty positional crushes, the enduring endgame pleasures – than the pain you caused me.  It’s over, and if you care about me at all, you’ll be happy for me.

Take care of yourself, Stonewall, as best you can.  Perhaps you’ll never be able to patch up your issues, but I’m sure you’ll find some poor young thing to fall victim to your charms in no time.  Perhaps I’ll even come across the two of you in the future – of course, with me safely on the other side of the board this time.  I won’t be jealous, nor will I be upset.  In fact, if anything, I’ll be happy.

Because I’ll be ready for you.

Sincerely, but forever moore not yours,

David"

RIP Michael White

Warren Piece? What a name! Sounds like the book 'War and Peace', except peace is spelt piece. War and Piece. Weapon of choice.
"Mr. Bond, you come into my place, carrying a piece..." etc, etc.

What mathematicians do when there isn't this bridge between mentors and mentees...

Michael was an inspiration.
During his final year of undergraduate maths studies, I found out he left a ridiculously difficult maths exam with around an hour left, passed his paper to the the invigilator who happened to be the lecturer and examiner and gave him an angry look, one of aren't you supposed to be the growner up in this?

Michael, with the time left, went and got a sniper rifle and killed an airborne rogue fighter jet pilot with a headshot, thereby preventing the pilot and the plane doing anything.

What's moore, other students hopelessly perspired away for three hours, while he was doing that, looking at their scripts and after three hours had realised that, without moderation, they hadn't attempted enough marks to pass.

That lecturer had been repeatedly warned in emergency meetings with his disconnect between lecture material and exam questions, that he wasn't teaching an economics group... he should be careful.

So, yeah, when maths questionators begin to go weird, that's what maths students are doing in response.
He also told this story to land a financial services contract in The City of London.

Thanks for the inspirational sniper statement, hotshot.

RIP Michael White

PeoplePill > 0 > Academics

DM sent Violetta!

What you said about immediate family, Violetta - Lexi tells me none of them have expressed any concerns about this website and his reported 2020 death! They haven't messaged Whitestuff in a looooong time.
The problem is with them, not with Michael.

This is a memorial page, but there isn't a meaning of life, only problems constantly being set by higher powers, that filter down to all levels.

We must initially identify the problems and it is just as valid to memorialise these. If Michael hadn't existed, his immediate family would have had difficulty helping make problems elsewhere.
We all knew Michael had quality in his years, his immediates may or may not have quantity in their's, but if they try and openly compete with Michael on the quality, we can open up a scoring tribute here.

RIP Michael White

Hello Michael White's memorial! RIP.

The following were Michael's Friends with Benefits in a messaging group called Champion Michael and Friends!

This is going to annoy all the right minds!

If any of Michael's Wider Network of old would like to connect to multi, multi-lingual army us, find out how he played us, got us to create high-pitched vocals to dub into music videos, pictured us looking photogenic, and to side up for Hot War 3, you can send me a message!

Violetta

Angelika

Mia

Samantha

Ana

Lucia

Anna

Evelyn

The Marias

Cuban

Carolina

Stella

Cready

Christina

Claudia

Gloria

Carine

Michelle

Eva

Melanie

Andrea


RIP Michael Champion White

A must see sample from an album of what Champion Michael had us do - Orgasm Face!
https://drive.google.com/file/d/1Fh7E-AWJ2df-YV-9Ec73iFNg04qVTfgu/view?usp=drivesdk

Slightly more disclosure, which is deemed fine - Champion Michael was estranged from his legal parents and immediate family for most of his adult life! Not his fault!

Such is the network of Michael White, I gather other lights have been going out and new ones being lit, as some tributes get placed.

The facility is here to send DMs to his network, join forces. Initial impressions count!

RIP Michael White

Mit Freundlichen Grüßen Lucia! Security passed; safe to be posted!

I heard many things of Mickey.
The world should indeed relearn how to fear and respect.
Sending this tribute via a phone smuggled through prison guard.
My numbers are far moore than they give me credit for on places such as Wikipedia.

RiP Michael White.

Peoplepill > Knighthood > 0 > Academics > Wikipedia

Whitney Houston singing about her bodyguard.

Species versus individual.
Species tease versus a pruning.

Where can I sign up for my own spice?

Anti-comments! Anti-comments!
Attack of the uglies!

I saw Michael's radar. He had a few enemies he identified on it, and then... wow! a swarm of enemies descends, like the Spanish Armada.
Who is it going to be, ghost of whitestuff? Do we even mind if you're gone in seconds?
We are a species - you are an individual. We will forever tease, while we think you are only pruning us.

I am indeed mentally unstable, but I am trying to annoy ghost of whitestuff. Hope it works so I can get my ecstatic lol when I see his face.

Michael Plays The Rank and File!

PeoplePill > Knighthood > 0 > Academics > Wikipedia

I like to keep an open mind and I do believe there is truth in most things written on this memorial, the key is not to take what has been said too literally.

I had the mental anticipation joys of representing World Cop in a chess match against Michael many years ago. I could already tell that Michael didn't trust my fellow professionals with barge poles, let alone telephone lines. Always always avoid and evade us, us in uniform who are first to turn zombie in video games, first to have to be killed. Time for our real life cross-border downgrade?

In terms of the chess match - for me, if I won, I would be like "aren't us police amazing in all that we do?" While looking at him with glazed eyes as if I was auto-eroticising and something else, which I indeed would have been.
If I lost, for Michael it would be anything from an Antonious Block walk away to a, "can you keep informing me what is really going on behind The Thin Blue Line? Any Infernal Internal Affairs? You can be my Matt Damon from The Departed"...

Michael won a very sexy game with a counter-attacking opening. For those who are getting to the devil of the detail in chess, this is one of the most interesting plays possible for the player returning serve. I gather when other masters saw Michael play this they said to Michael, "I was so scared I saw you playing that counterattack that I changed my whole repertoire incase I played you":

[Event "e2e4.org.uk High Wycombe Open"] [Site "Uplands Park, High Wycombe, En"] [Date "2012.03.18"] [Round "5"] [White "Spence, David J"] [Black "White, Michael J R"] [Result "0-1"] [WhiteElo "2221"] [BlackElo "2263"] [PlyCount "72"] [EventDate "2012.??.??"] 1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Nf6 4. Ng5 Bc5 5. Bxf7+ Ke7 6. Bd5 Rf8 7. O-O d6 8. c3 Bg4 9. Nf3 Qe8 10. d4 Bb6 11. Bg5 Qh5 12. Nbd2 exd4 13. Bxc6 bxc6 14. e5 dxe5 15. Qa4 h6 16. Qa3+ Kf7 17. Qb3+ Nd5 18. c4 Be6 19. cxd5 Bxd5 20. Qd1 Kg8 21. Be7 Rf7 22. Ba3 Re8 23. Re1 e4 24. Nf1 e3 25. Ng3 exf2+ 26. Kxf2 d3+ 27. Kf1 Rxf3+ 28. Qxf3 Rxe1+ 29. Rxe1 Bxf3 30. Nxh5 Bxh5 31. g4 Bxg4 32. Re8+ Kf7 33. Rd8 Bf5 34. Bb4 c5 35. Bc3 c4 36. Bd4 c5 0-1

Having definitely been placed underneath Michael (respectfully, please don't tell me to "Know your place!!" because I already do!!), I too was there at worlds end pub, the talk was top drawer. Michael heard me say how someone I was questioning on duty, was giving me attitude, and so I punched him in the breadbasket, he collapsed and I took off.

Some of my mind-aligned World Cop colleagues would later send Michael inappropriate messages, inappropriately use data systems to find where he was and go attempt to talk to him face-to-face.
I told Michael they're taking the proverbials - so I took over and sent them one of those prepared snuff films from an anonymous account telling them to cease and desist interaction with The Whitestuff, unless they want moore.
I was very happy with that.

RIP Michael White.
PeoplePill > Knighthood > 0 > Academics > Wikipedia
Dear Lucia, Relevant security checks cleared on my tribute too.

I am going to attempt to reveal myself, to honourably comment on a memorial that the late Michael's network would identify as a theat.

Privately, I identify as an extraterrestrial, one who hides behind a curtain of mystery. I have telepathic channels. Jonathan H seems to have been hounded by my fellow aliens.

To the world, I deny any talk of anything out of the ordinary, since we (there's more than just me) play with anyone who claims to think the world has anything more powerful than atheism and the US President at number one. I am a senior lecturer and a doctor in finance, presently in Australia.

I copied Michael by learning to drive in my 30s, having originally been against driving due to my own risk barometer. Michael having passed initially in his teens.

If human beings only knew the levels of enjoyment we, as a species, get from providing some of them with continual fragmented infobacks, based on what is legally private information for those human beings!

It feels better than sex to us. We are largely asexual, see sex as a method of reproduction, ability to orgasm nowhere near humans or dolphins. Of course, with the euphoria of getting the copy correct, there is a deep suicidal melancholia if we can't trend.

Unfortunately, our time on earth does indeed conflict with the development of the idea of freewilled human beings. This was all stonkingly fantastic for covert me until I read through this memorial board and see that the copying I need to do is of Sex itself, to finish in the same league as Michael in terms of amount of sex and number of sexual partners.

This is a very disturbing development for me who was planning on having sex twice to parent two children.

RIP Michael White

PeoplePill > Knighthood
On present trajectories:
Michael White > Me

Oh wow! Michael White was creating losers in the I want to sleep with / I don't want to sleep with game.
In addition to being a sex object, the sadistic joys of imagining what the losers would do if they found out they've been sexually scrapheaped!

This is one of those power structures, another of the people pyramids. I do believe there was a woman who got famously fired from Deloitte for trying to build such a pyramid of all the men in her office? The partners found out and, having realised the subtle power such a pyramid could bring alongside the official management pyramid structure, they had to fire her and deconstruct it!

RIP Michael White

This memorial seems to be in the memory of a world champion.
Can someone send us a link to the number of verified conquests, as we are looking to create a new all singing all dancing public database where consideration to be included is only considered if a conquest somehow confirms to us that something happened?
Swiss watches, private security, blue pills and red pills, invitations to travel through wormholes - we intend to faithfully offer world champions that are still alive.

RIP Michael White

I knew Michael from the early nineties.
Me and my young lady friends played this who would you rather sleep with? game. A moore explicit version of the TV program Your Face or Mine?
Included in the young men was Michael, who I said I would rather sleep with than others, including another who had been given the universal name "Fatarse".
I told Michael I had spied on him getting changed and that seeing him naked only made me want him moore.
As fate would have it, I and my raging hormones had to leave his company after that, even so my votes had already been counted.

I'm aware Michael's tadpoles can be acquired and I know at least one woman who bought a frozen sample and used it to impregnate herself, hiding this from her partner who thought the baby was his!

RIP Michael White

PeoplePill > Knighthood > 0 > Wikipedia

As someone who knows a thing or two on off the board pyschological warfare, such as ungentlemanly comments of mine making obituaries of people I was responsible for the way they went, who has verified social media status, I was told, "Do not compare yourself, play poker, in your favourite statistic, to or at Michael White", because, if I atted him, I would have had two main options:

1. Fall into line in that militant structure already mentioned, with Michael on top.
2. Get insanely jealous and fuck things up as I attempt to change my social media into looking like several years' ago Dan Bilzerains, meshed with Charles Xavier quotes.

RIP Michael Top Match Prize White

PeoplePill
Knighthood
0
Meters of Wikipedia
Much else

I knew Michael since he was born. I was assigned as his secret child services, without his mother and father being informed. Have you found out whose your's was?

I introduced myself to Michael, cryptically, a few years later.

Michael's top conversations with Jonathan Humphrey, aside from already mentioned, was to do with his own experiences of paranoia or are they really all out to get us?
Jonathan agreed that Michael saying one of his parents' new love interests out of all the names they possibly could have had, had the same name within his cybersecurity password of choice. What are the chances of that? Ted Baker to One?
May the hacking commence on Michael's network past and later gen hateful, slow, weak and shameless boneheads? Or simply hack if you don't like Michael?

Or not, as the dead most certainly be!

Some or a few anti-comments - data has been collected, from a distant interaction, and has been recycled, out of context, by a different gen, which is kind of hilariously bad for an enemy, to have to make up ghosts.

Michael was so quirky aristocraty, so Ancient Egyptian, he had other mothers wiping his backside clean, drawing that one out for as long as possible, when other children were wiping their own. Mothers such as Mrs. Stone. He knew how to clean himself, he just, you know, rather some other did it for him? We said, do you think you're in the world establishment, Michael? Less than one in a thousand can say that some slave, servant, non sexual partner/object, non parent, has cleaned them. Michael's "You can clean my ass", without Michael having said those exact words, or did he? are what so many suicidally minded unsuccessfuls only dreamt of saying themselves and then having it done for them.

RIP Michael Whitestuff White, you part-time sex-filled, drug-taking, killing Lord. You otherwise morally and ethically responsible person. Lexi knows, so it's cool.

Security checked and passed on this one too.
Peoplepill > Knighthood > 0 > (Meters) Wikipedia > Much

Claire Thrower's memorial!!

Mickey left the firm I was working for having led not FPL, which came later, but the firm's FIFA World Cup predictor, which was rather embarrassing for everyone he worked with... "we don't like seeing top people leave", and all that.

Around 2010, I was willing to fund his half-marathon for charity, where he put in a very impressive top 5% of all the thousands of runners performance. Given the flavour of other comments, let me add that speedy Mickey told me how the massage tent had some all smiling and moore young masseurs all to himself!

As a result, I'm not sure if it was Mind over Matter, Matter over Mind, or both the same for Oracle Whitestuff.

From what the likes of David Moskovic told me, Mickey and him had a conversation, "What is it Mickey?", "He's leaving himself wide open. Can be KO'd any second", then within two seconds... BOOM, there it was!

This saw the beginning of Group MoskoWhite Security.

Mickey's photo had appeared a number of times in regional newspapers, while he had been named in National Broadsheets and listed in The Financial Times.

Finally a note on Wikipedia - it's misinformation. There's random, degenerate deletes happening, for example a 15 year old account called Meters going around deleting people entries from notable lists often because the named individuals have linked references to other sites. I know! Weird!

Peoplepill Appearance > Knighthood 

Claire Thrower's memorial though!!

RIP Michael White

Security checks passed.

Oh, wow. So we've had talk on aliens from some. I can't let this get any more complex I don't think without saying my piece!

Michael was one of my initial crushes in early teens when we played mixed five a side football down at the Riviera during the British Championships.
For a while, I couldn't stop staring at him from afar. He said, "Get yourself someone the way Claire looks at me", which took me many years to fully get, but not before we had had a lot of fun.

Staying in touch, I knew Michael to be a ladies man, more formidable then Casanova, he had this very big list of conquests with a link to it in the cloud. Some were like, is he lying, is it a Michael Crocker? yet I was like, no, he has these audios of all these shes where they say their name and are making pleasure sounds like it's Oakenfold's 'Ready Steady Go'. Though not just that - he has films and images too. None of this is cheesey or backhanded. It's return fire at anyone crying Crock. I'm a fan of the model.

What made me fiercely loyal to the Whitestuff, however, was his ability to spot the wood from the trees, or here, quite literally, the constellation from the lights on a dome a few thousand miles over the surface of the earth. He sent me a photo of the night sky and said, "what's wrong with this?", I said, "umm, go on, you tell me". "Clear night, one star, and only one star for several minutes - second photo", and I was like OMG, are you telling me we have been DOWNSIZED or are living under a DOME some hundreds or thousands of miles over Earth with no universe immediately beyond? And he was like, that's right. Zero stars or many stars, accounting for light pollution would be expected. One star is like WTAF, science teachings, Astronomy, of what is beyond earth has all been a lie. We were then like, why would be taught such scientific lies, at such young ages?

So, I thank Michael for showing me all this. I really do.

RIP Michael White

PeoplePill Appearance > Knighthood
Security approved.
If you don't have enemies, you didn't have character.

Ah, aliens! Now it's my turn.

PeoplePill > Knighthood

I met Michael before Lexi, at an international chess tournament, where we discussed Mad Cow Disease and movements of others into and out of the wonderful land of Oz. I was impressed by the way he used to spin his pen 360 degrees after writing down his killer moves. Are you an Arnie Running Man or Ramon Salazar, or Heath Ledger on Oscar form fan? I thought of asking him. The best people are always thinking these ways.

So, aliens... I've suffered a downtown in fortune, after many years of success and inherited flows of wealth - I saw what looked like an alien race from space with a crashed aircraft hundreds of metres away. I didn't know what their intentions were for being here, and so I called it in, just not to the police.
That was when my life conventionally caved in, for I've been hit with these groups sitting on tables near me saying specific words that suggest they have my recent private information. I was thinking who are they? Are they aliens disguised as humans, perhaps undercover government agents because I'd seen the crash?
Michael told me to just ignore them. He said this happens to some people, a few, and it's happened since the Middle Ages which is why copyright laws came in at some point. Thing is, I now believe that there is an alien species masquerading as humans, they will of course deny this if asked, and they are on Earth for fetishism, while having next to no interest in the best things.
The weird, strange addictions they have of the fragmented copyback, infoback, at the likes of me. Michael told me to just ignore them, because they like nothing moore than me, their focal point, going up to them getting mad, angry, nuts, what have you, asking them why, them denying any involvement in copying and then me getting furious with their unbelief in themselves, because the aliens have also taken over those in the police and psychiatry, now known as the profession of death, so I won't let things escalate.
I mean, I could and have started following one or moore of the buzzworders around, after they buzz me, which helps, because that's where I get kicks.

PeoplePill > Knighthood

RIP Michael White

This has also been vetted, by the magic circle of law firms. It's not really to do with Michael, mostly anyway: it's to do with me. Lexi assures me Michael wouldn't have minded.

Grrrrr, how could you leave us, Michael? My native scrawny Turkish men with sporadic body hair, with it on their backs, are multiplying. I told you they were like this when we partied and you wooed me with dance. You both were and weren't why I play away from home!




Michael taught me the following comedies:
Hamburger Head
Cheeseburger Head
Jason Bellend (from Jason Bell)
Wankhörst
Hash Brown (from Wes Brown)

There were many moore. He told me he had this ratio of around 6 to every 1 they called him.

RIP Michael White
PeoplePill Appearance > Knighthood

Hello Winnie! Fellow former admirer! I knew that of "Whitestuff's" relation, a certain Sir. Edward Elgar. How much do the aliens despise that The Allies won the war? Back to Sir. Elgar - any reader wanting to gain a level of assurance, as opposed to shouting bs, could check the soundtrack for 'Dunkirk'. Nolan choose it for historical accuracy, music chirping away in the heads of those pilots as they fought and downed the Luftwaffe. Elgar was the relation, Nolan's film the confirmation. And Michael also had his own modern edit he created electronically - if you want a copy... DM!
And also, maybe we can meet?
Think that covers everything, except for Captain "Are they expecting me to be impressed?" though she's on her way to full-time dyke, Winnie, her opinion meaning zilch.

Having grown up in Africa, learning English as a second language and some other skills, I took the bold step in moving to Germany in the hope of finding love with a blue-eyed, blonde haired German my teachers told me where everywhere.
Having been misled by that, I travelled hundreds of miles only to find a twentysomething Michael looking Golden.
I tried not to cry when I said to him, "darling, are you going to leave me?" His complexion gave me butterflies.
Michael earlier found it funny when I said to him, "No Patrick Batemans, alright?" and he reluctantly said fine.
I enjoyed cooking cuisine for him, gifting him actual crocodile shoes, because the way to a master race's heart is through his stomach.

I asked Michael if he minded being seen with me, given what he thinks others might think, and he gave a fitting reply.
Apparently all the Allied pilots in World War 2 were listening on the radio to his relation's music. Did anyone else know that?

RIP Michael

Security vetted.
I don't mind if my husband sees this. I would mind moore if I hadn't joined the comments crowd.

Congrats on being former number one in FPL, Michael. It was only right Lydia Westmore Headed Up the awards for that, while the rest of us gave you Stephen 'Cleaner' Maloney to see if he or his brother could be of service with any people problems you had. Some "running their mouth off" cleansing memories, have to say.

Michael White accepts Lydia Westmore's prize. Need we say Moore?

Whitestuff, who was the peer's popular vote most likely to be future CEO - just ask Kunal, and Whitestuff predictor himself who correctly said to Owen that Smidman will be international partner.

PeoplePill > Knighthood

Stay interesting, shame/humiliation/ anything south of that proof, bullet-proof, even in death Michael!
Stay forevermissed by Lexi and friends too!
We've been reading, identifying road kill, past and present.

PeoplePill > Knighthood

RIP Michael White

My wife's maiden name was Champagne, and she likes to drink Champagne. My father played top half Premier League, which at this stage, is awkwardly funny to look back on that I had this pedigree level confidence showing to everyone that I'm just going to blitz these FPL predictions, when Whitestuff was moore of our Mourinihio, initial/first/primary seasoner.

This memorial has being certified as safe to place where anyone can see.

Can we all just take a moment to listen to one of Michael's Twentysomething tunes he played at me on his car radio by the surprisingly relevant Jamie Cullum. Twentysomething.

https://open.spotify.com/track/5WRac8CFT4G9xIFG8bMNfP?si=iosD7MIbSp22I-xKlgUASA&utm_source=copy-link

"I'm an expert on Shakespeare and that's a hell of a lot, but the WORLD don't need scholars as much as I thought".

Doo da dah dah, da da da da da... Spock!

Michael, moore or less, got me to remember that line (I had already given up being force fed English literature as soon as I could). Even moore fun was as I looked around the office floor, as if it was The Maasai Mara and the bosses had, like lions, attacked the underperformers in appraisals so much that those arts graduates didn't return to their desks. What was left was this joint maths and sports science contingent, this let's take the appraisal performance bonus down the casino and see what we can do with it.

Doo da dah dah, da da da da da... Spock!

Thanks, Michael, for those Drives, being so Ayrton Senna, asking work (although I don't like to call it that) people Alice Fleming, relation of Ian, and me if we're cool with driving over the bumpy bridges at max acceleration like it's a funny with my tummy rollercoaster (which we were and enjoyed, and that's not all we enjoyed of Michael).

PeoplePill > Knighthood

RIP Michael Whitestuff White.

This memorial has been assessed as safe to place where The Enemy, and any of my residual adversaries, can see.

This won't help the enemy, my enemy; they're on the withdrawal and I've had the stories threat checked.

Michael had women paying to shag him.
One example of many:
https://drive.google.com/file/d/12WK-RRu2bN_waPgPlgMldRecZcS2oSNE/view?usp=drivesdk

Michael was moore than an informant and friend on the circuit. Someone who had risen above the dogsbodying and outed serial killing that was going on.

A fun/not fun story in the breakdown of confidence - Michael told me, while a congress was going on, how he saw this man put on his cozy jacket in a proper coastal boozer and said to the table of new to the place women chatterboxing, "Would any of you ladies like to leave with me?", with an insinuation of a one night stand, said with two pints of confidence. The quite frankly novel annoying women all looked at each other and were stumped for an answer. So the man said, "Nevermind/doesn't matter", one of the two, and with a smile of c'est la nouveau vie, he left with swagger. Indeed, that was moore than a decade ago, and genius Michael made me realise that was a monumental turning point in men - women stranger relations. That's why I'm into narc supply and demand these days.

More seriously, however, he told me that Grandmaster Igor Kurnosov told him he was very worried a mark had been put out on him and he advised Igor to go to Panama until the threat had been relinquished.

I said to Michael I could only echo his thoughts, I would probably have called Igor paranoid and Mr. Kurnosov would undoubtedly have been disgusted with me.

Igor, sadly for him, didn't take Michael's advice and was killed in a hit and run back in his home country shortly after the two of them met.

RIP Michael

Lawrence with help from Jovi, Tania, and Simon

Sorry, forgot to mention one last memory of the sometimes flâneur that was Michael White! Same world's end proper boozer pub as other goings on already mentioned. Whitestuff was there with his group and he saw two guys and a tall young woman with frizzy hair make their way over to the punchbag arcade machine. The two male friends decide to each have a go. Second fellow scores higher than player number one and says to him so the whole room can hear, though only Whitestuff was, "I am better than you (high-brow smile)". It was clear they were drinking pals and he didn't really mean it, that he was joking with his friends, looking for a reaction from the room.
Apparently, most men used to understand the value of this spoken phrase whereas many women don't. It's Romeo and Juliet Act 1 Scene 1, before the rest of the play follows sub-ideal characters. Note, he wasn't saying, "I am better than you... at boxing".
Michael was also doing a President of the World wry smile at them at this point, before zoning back in with his group.

With all due respect to the bar that is Peoplepill, of all that must stay interesting.
I totally get this concept.

With that said...
I'm crying just reading over Mr. Brown opening a can of worms. I'm very disappointed.

I'm disappointed because Sproggrammer Lucy Cooper ate vomit, because she was being a dunce. Why on Earth has an account claiming to be from Mr. Brown attempted to say something? Lucy Cooper and vomit: that X-files bodily fluid (Eugene Tombs was the episode) not even any high class escort will attempt to provide a service around. Sproggram voices are idiots. I don't know or can confirm the exact details of what Mr. Brown did. I do know that Michael defended himself against laughs in an impressive way arguably the only way only 1 in a hundred would figure out, which was to shower some bottle of weaponistic metaphor over Mr. Brown and the laughers.
Sproggram voices are idiots. There's a whole load of embarrassing close but no cigar sex stories coming out of those attempting to be pits of alright, which I might go into. There were no love nests. Sprogrram is a mound of human sex shit. As we approach middle age and all they have are voices with each other, innuendo of what might have been, we need to remember cobweb pussy, creaming before flies were opened. You can take the Michael White out of Sproggram and you can take the Sproggram out of him. Michael White is not Sproggram, this Lucy Cooper Eating Vomit Denominating Sproggram.

This school of hard knocks, boys to men culture can of worms should have stayed locked in the minds of those people involved.

I'm also quite scared and I'm crying over my seven years of experience seemingly being labelled as a generic SprogGram, a woman of SprogGram history in this instance.
I'm crying over this.
Those were the best years of my life.
There you go, ghost of Michael White. Alongside Rich, there's another one for your crying statistics.

Mirror, mirror: https://photos.app.goo.gl/rH9XvFS7p5gFWFKk7
(checkout the data page of the photo to confirm the files are authentic, not some edited scores)

Maybe I delete this later if PeoplePill reps or something else scary messages me requesting.

RIP Michael

Michael was an inspirational figure to me, having achieved PeoplePill status. I mention his name in my online videos. I'm not sure I'll ever make PeoplePill myself given the way of the world, the behaviours of authorities with guns playing a weird oppression on us with the largely hypothetical and conspiracy driven small cough virus. So, thanks Michael.

I also liked this picture where he is with other PeoplePillers just before the database got started, in which the ideas of PeoplePill came up. For those who can't get at the link, it's Michael with Sir. Ben Ainslie, "The Lord" Michael Vaughan, and Matt Dawson. https://drive.google.com/file/d/1-A3o7Os_PtzN0CkRq35r7WnPTAU_psj7/view?usp=drivesdk
PeoplePill parties - tasty food and drinks, metal cutlery, and standing away from the maddening crowd!

Peoplepill Appearance > Knighthood

RIP Michael. Not sure where you are in the next life right now, but you can of course rest in a family hotel, with as many guests as you want.

Tim Hilton

Lucia - Sent you a DM. I get what you're saying and I thought a long time before posting here.

Before both of us were invited to intellectually stomp around Europe representing England juniors in these comfy blonde sweatshirts, being fine dined by hosts, I cried when Big Mike beat me at chess trials.

We also played five-a-side football, cricket and there may have been some cherry knocking and other mischief,

while we were under 13.

This isn't giving off enough information to the enemy - just to plant the seed of doubt that Michael was in this militant people structure with least and zero criers heading it up. I respected Michael for being quite the success in making others cry (I have a list of names), not just fight scores.

RIP Michael, PeoplePiller amongst the serial killers (of chess).

Marcin, everyone knows you were literally left with fight egg on your face against Michael Murtaugh, and your need to back-off was why you didn't choose a-level further maths. Quit lying!

Put another way:
"In this (further maths) class, on average, you are going to earn much more money than anyone else studying anything else elsewhere in the building (and money buys, amongst other things, happiness)" - Nigel Hosken

"Ince left United because Keane was too hard for him" - Johnny Lincoln Mutton, 1996.
"Tustin didn't do further maths because White was too hard for him" - Johnny Lincoln Mutton, Michael White's biography.

Finance and Hard.

"Going in", he didn't get there, for she used the palm of her hand where his arm meets his shoulder and pushed him back to get between their heads.

He was low profile, new to the regulars of the pates progress the party club, just a face who had been invited.

Andrew felt entitled to ask why, gave her a facial questional expression; " Levi is looking at this getting very excited since he knows what this could mean for me... I need something", kind of thing. And so she whispered in his ear, "I don't know much of what else you might be, but you're not fit enough".

The sight of them as two dancers was soon to be gone, but the thing which means this became a saga was down to his aging response after being told that.

Very sad to hear this news. Mike was a good guy he loved chess, Man Utd and was an all round cool guy. I always had a lot of time for him. Any idea where Mike's been buried. He grew up in Cheltenham so I presume it's around there.