These stories, that have been available on
Blogspot for 10 years for free, will now only be available on Amazon at the
address above. They are contained in “Vagabon Freak”, the 1st volume
of a trilogy titled “The 7 Lives of the Punk Poofy Cats”. I have been the
archetypal starving artist in his garret, painting, drawing and writing,
writing, writing as if I were some waif crying out in the wilderness. Now I
need you, dear reader, to hear my cries and go to Amazon and buy a copy of my
book and keep me alive. There you will find my complete tale, from beginning to
end, in one place, for you to hold in your hot little hands. When you read it
straight through, I assure you, it will blow your mind.
Below are introductory paragraphs and some pictures that I still retain to illustrate those stories, hopefully to give you a come-on to get my book. Thanks for giving me a go, TZ.
Snapping
out of his reverie and back to 1957 Arthur slunk off to his bedroom hoping his
parents’ squabbling would keep them busy and he’d be free to play his private
games. He left his door slightly ajar, as completely shut would invite
suspicion, then he fished out his costume from under his bed, one of his
mother’s old dresses, two balls of socks stuffed down his singlet to represent
voluptuous breasts, and a floppy T-shirt bunched up on his head as if it were a
bouffant hair-do. He then bounced about on his bed hugging, fighting, kissing
and fucking his pillow which stood in for one of the handsome heroes from his
beloved pirate movies glimpsed repeatedly on the wonderful TV.
After
about half an hour of this fantasy role playing he felt a prickle of hair standing
up on the back of his neck as if he was being watched, and glancing over at the
door he caught a glimpse of his father’s shadowy form watching him through the
crack of the door. While his father had often beaten him for being a sissy he’d
hoped the boy would grow out of it but it now looked like the kid’s
transexuality was a possibility and they’d all have to live with this
disgusting freak. Artie quickly stripped off the drag and later hung his head
in shame at the dinner table. While they passed the Birds-eye peas Frank had a
cold fury in his glance.
“Looks like we’ve got a little girl in the family just like you always
wanted Elaine.”
“What do ya mean? You’re always putting shit on someone. Why don’t you give
the kid a break?”
“Your son is a fucking freak, and you probably encourage him in it.”
“Oh leave the kid alone, you’ve been picking on him since he was a baby. If
he’s confused it’s cause you’ve fucked him up!”
(If you want to read this story further please go to the WEB address above and buy "Vagabond Freak.")
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| Calamity Jane. |
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| Oliver. |
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| Melbourne Olympics 1950 |
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| Jailhouse Rock. |
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| The Olympic Village. |
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| The Heidelberg School of Painters. |
