Monday, March 14, 2011

8) Welcome to the Men's.

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 this story, hopefully to give you a come-on to get my book. Thanks for giving me a go, TZ.

The 1960’s rolled along, the white, vanilla ice-cream days of the ‘Fifties relegated to history, those care-free golden rays of blond beachside bliss now retrograde, for Australia’s dream of an Anglo-European enclave drifting aloof and superior in a sea of Asiatics finally woke up to reality. Arthur witnessed the dying off of the last generation of the bitter-sweet, romantic stoicism of old colonial white Aussie diggers, true-blue and dinky-di.
Globalization was picking up pace, immigration, especially from Asia, was a necessity if the nation was to progress and he, for one, gladly grew into it as a booming New Age Aussie where all colors were welcome. As the high drama of the Cuban Missile Crisis got resolved by the Russians backing down and nuclear extinction postponed to another day, Arthur became the magical thirteen years old and was at last a teenager, that hallowed apprenticeship for liberating adulthood.
Primary school done with, he was marched off to high school where it was expected his manhood would be fixed; for the first few years at Rosanna High he was the perfect student, achieving top marks in a class of brains, and obeying all the rules. But as puberty took over and flooded him with screwball hormones, and as his unhappy home-life fell apart, he disrupted his classes more and more with rambunctious antics and cheeky quips, getting thrown out and sent for further whippings by the headmaster.
His ability to break everyone up laughing gave him a sense of character; he imagined he was brilliant as a comedic thespian destined for greatness in the movies. He was overlooked in most other accomplishments, being viewed as a wimp and denigrated as a sissy; only good little brains did science, only good little machos did sport, and only good little girls did art. 
(If you want to read the rest of this story and more, please go to the WEB address above and buy "Vagabond Freak.")

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