Tbaoo and My Silly Writing have been crippled, smashed, crushed and smothered in frustration. The reason is my old hosting company Midphase and the sheer hair tearing frustration they inflict on their customers when trying to interpret their own sales and technical support. So i’ve taken my bat, my ball and my other things off to Go Daddy. So far they have their act together and as a result – I present Ajm Crawford .com. This will feature tbaoo, silly writing and anything else that comes along.
Now that my short stories compilation has been formatted correctly and with the help of SmashWords, it has been distributed to those fine outlets that market ebooks … mine can be purchased ( or sampled ) for the uniquely wonderful price of “99 cents” … you can invest in the future of modern entertainment .. here
Here’s a sample of my silly writing.
The scum bag who was aptly named Arthur Rummage, was arrested. He ended up dying in jail from a mysterious glandular disease, apparently contracted by a nasty case of man love without protection. It wasn’t the lack of a condom, it was that the recipient of his amorous and violent advances had serious connections and protection, while Arthur had none.
He was smashed into the smallest representation of a human the morgue had ever seen. the cause of death was put down to glandular disease, all his glands, organs, limbs, bones and bits were compacted that much it caused disease. Arthur was trolly’d to the morgue like one of those compressed cars you see on tv, the ones that become installation art pieces ….. or maybe:
Ralph had an old leather bound daily planner that he continually filled with torture and murderous scenarios. He would figure out when and how he could act the latest of these scenarios. He’d always practiced the timing, the capture, the hiding and the alibi should anyone become suspicious. He’d been very careful, except for this night, Betty’s snooping would force him into action. Decisive, yet somewhat clumsy action.
Betty had flipped through some pages and seemed to remember a few of the methods outlined within. She watched a lot of cable news and she’d also seen many a news documentary on the crime channel. The similarity of these local crimes and the scribblings in this book were all too real.
Well Betty do you like the plot lines ?
And yet more … a random grab from the Space Palace in the Stars.
Shizzle my nizzle – it would be come very prophetic, but moony didn’t know what that meant, neither prophetic nor a shizzllng of his shizzle.
Life on the research station was returning to normal. Life is a strange word considering that only three personnel where alive. The rest were droids and the fixed auto bot things that kept the place running. Robert the wanker, the head scientist Carol and Moony.
Moony wasn’t attracted to Robert in any way, but he really had the hots for Carol, sure the droid pleasure girls were good, but Carol had that certain illusive, out of reach response that drove Moony mad. A certain something the droids could not replicate, a real in the flesh response.
So infatuated in fact he worried if this fixation would affect his tenure here at the research station. Indeed, whomever decided it should be called “The Science Palace in the Stars” should be blasted. T.S.P.S was so bloom’n hard to say. Robert struggled big time with this anagram as he added a very pronounced lisp to his afflictions, it was excruciating listening to him broadcast his daily reports. The console was waterproof, but shit it took a pounding of spit. Whereas Carol would as well if Moony had his way, spit and a pounding all over the place and often.
So back to work. Moony decided that the best way to pass away the days and nights of this pending 72 hour shift was to dream, not like the classic “Dream of Electric Sheep”, but dream of the real Carol. She was a voluptuous bouncy female creature with an ample bosom, a sweet backside in the tight light grey overall uniform they were all forced to wear and she had a smile that tricked Moony into thinking she really fancied him back. This return of affection was purely in Moony’s mind, as Carol had not shown any such interest.
Oh no – there’s more
Incredibly he had nothing to say. His normally glib, cynically sharp and sometimes rude response was nowhere to be heard. This was rather odd as he’d managed to upset more than a few people over the years and used to delight in doing so. He sat there wondering about his yearning for a glamorous lifestyle and that it seemed to be crashing down into a big fat “less than glamorous” one.
He couldn’t quite understand why. He’d tried his best to be something he’d be proud of but he’d always managed to fall short. He could be quick and bite back at you with an insult, although not as clever as a drag queen’s comeback, but reasonably sharp nonetheless.
He sat there and decided. He’d run for a political office. He’d compromise his integrity, refocus his moral compass and adapt his public view on life’s key points. Points such as tolerance, respect, women’s rights, lgbt rights and his basic honesty settings, he’ll become a politician.
If you have some feedback, i’d love to hear it, share it and hopefully learn from it, while if you have criticism, i’d love to learn from that as well …. huge thanks in advance – alan.
Due to my reinvigorated interest in photography, I joined a photography club here on the Gold Coast. Sadly I’ve discovered to my amazment that comments from various judges (in the inter-club competitions) are terribly perplexing. I don’t really understand how they think or arrive at their observations – it has resulted in my struggling to accept any award or bother trying, when the comments they provide others – good and bad – seem so freaking ridiculous and contradictory. One day you’re a winner, the next, while you’ve followed the lead of the previous, you’re not .. Oh well it was fun for a short time.