Frank (Slept Here)

On the air. Unaware.

Frank — Fri, 27 Jan 2012 01:06:09 +0000

If I ever start a file called “Things I’ve Said That I’ll Someday Regret,” that file is sure to include the following:

1/26/12 – said to Ella:

“Last night I had a dream where Izzo died. It was way sadder than that dream I had where you died.”

That’s a dumb thing to say, even if I had a good explanation for saying it.

It’s things like that statement that make me wonder if I’m living in a sitcom. Every time something funny or improbable happens I get the feeling that I’m being watched by millions, Truman Show style. Sounds crazy, right? Well, consider these facts:

1. I’m living with a woman far more attractive than me.

2. I say and do dumb things (albeit less than I used to) and she still loves me.

3. I have wacky neighbors.

4. People sometimes laugh at me.

Of course my life isn’t a TV show but if it ever becomes one I hope that you’ll watch it. I assume a show like that would be more or less like this blog, only with talking and occasional partial nudity from one of us.

Frank recommends

Frank — Tue, 24 Jan 2012 01:25:35 +0000

The body would love to blog but the brain just isn’t cooperating. Something may come later, but for now you should check out the following things that I have been reading; think of it as Frank (Slept Here) recommends. All recommendations come with a money-back guarantee:

Ella writes about Paula Deen’s diabetes and does not reveal that I aspire to eat everything in every single Paula Deen cookbook.

Ashley explains that she loves airports, which is good, and that she can’t wait for Titanic to come out in 3D, which is not as good.

Dave once again professes his love for big sausages (safe for work).

Alyssa speaks of acronyms and Nutella.

And finally, Mandy goes to a beach that is not frozen, which makes me jealous.

P.S. Scarlett is one of the most awesome people in the history of awesome. The best person you know sucks compared to her.

Personal bests

Frank — Fri, 20 Jan 2012 01:27:57 +0000

Earlier this week I wrote about the most popular posts from this blog as determined by keyword searches and page views. While those are all perfectly good entries I was a little disappointed that, with the exception of my ballet story, the most popular posts were not the ones that I would have picked as my favorites (okay, maybe I would have picked the story of the enormous cheeseburger). Outside of the occasional post on something stupid I’ve done my personal favorites from the archives are usually about music. Below are a few links that probably won’t make anyone’s favorites list, but I still like them a lot:

Fighting for the smallest goal

Kissing the foolish

Set you free

I know it’s not as much fun as reading about donkey sex and hobos but I hope you give them a chance.

Giving the people what they want

Frank — Wed, 18 Jan 2012 01:30:57 +0000

In the four plus years that I’ve written this blog I’ve often wondered which posts were read most frequently, and since I had a slow day at work I decided to find out. By gathering all of the search word, page view, and visitor entry page data I could gather (about 18 months’ worth), and then running that data through the Frank (Slept Here) Math Machine I have discovered that five of the most popular posts in the history of this blog are:

Animal house - This post features both donkey and retard sex.

Some things cannot be forgiven – AKA Frank Wears a Leotard and Dances on Stage (surprisingly safe for work).

Man vs. Food – In which I tackle 10,000 calories of cheeseburger.

Hobo matters – Find out what kinds of sexual favors the hobos on my street are offering.

They tore down the Polo Grounds in ’64 – An embarrassingly cheesy unsent letter to an ex-girlfriend.

I’m still trying to figure out what this says about me as a writer and all of you as readers. It probably means we have problems. More on this later.

The werewolves of Detroit

Frank — Sun, 15 Jan 2012 16:57:50 +0000

When my brother was little he was obsessed with werewolves (among other things), and he was convinced that he could turn into one if he just tried hard enough. Every morning he’d stand in front of the mirror looking for signs of lycanthropy and then practicing his werewolf face. He suspected that at any moment the change would happen so he wanted to be ready when it did. He’d contort his face, close one eye, mess up his hair and show his teeth, and then go around the house biting people.

Since I was a few years older than my brother I laughed the werewolf game off as just a silly thing he did, except that to this day whenever I think of my brother I think of the werewolf face.

Maybe it’s just because I don’t see my brother enough but sometimes, if no one is looking and I’m near a mirror, I’ll try and turn into a werewolf too. Usually no one notices, but the other day someone caught me working on my werewolf face. I didn’t try to explain it to them, but I hope you’ll understand.

There’s a thousand things

Frank — Sat, 14 Jan 2012 00:58:33 +0000

I was looking through my archives the other day and noticed that I used to feature music a lot more often than I do now. I also found that the website I used to host my blog music files has deleted all of them because my account was inactive for too long. That’s what you get when you pay $0.00 for something. If anyone is really dying to know what music I like these days I’ll send you some (just ask), or you can dig this awesome clip (audio only) of the late Harry Chapin from 1975. It’s not often that I say “I wish I could be someone else,” but I can’t listen to this song and not want to be Harry Chapin, at least for those few minutes.

The time to rise

Frank — Fri, 13 Jan 2012 01:28:09 +0000

By the fall of 1998 I was really starting to appreciate music but I was still forbidden to use my father’s stereo. I was staring to amass a CD collection and pay attention to stuff on the radio, but I couldn’t blast my favorite songs for all the neighbors to hear – that was strictly my dad’s job (and if the neighbors didn’t like The Jam they could go fuck themselves). When I wanted to hear music I had to use my portable CD player* or the Walkman that I took to school every day.

*Please allow me to go off on a tangent for a minute:I had a portable CD player but when I went to school I took my old cassette player. I know that iPods and other MP3 players have left CDs in the dust, but there was a time when you didn’t just walk around with a CD because, where I lived, someone might steal the CD player, or worse, someone would think you had money and try and take that from you too. The only thing worse than getting beaten up for money is getting beaten up for money that you don’t have (or so I hear). One thing a mugger hates is accidentally mugging a poor person because then you have to take SOMETHING for your trouble and you wind up as bad as the victim, but I’m getting off topic here.

We didn’t have that many rules in my house, but not using the stereo was at the top of the list. It was also the only rule not created in response to something stupid I had done. I had no problems ignoring the other house rules but I respected the stereo rule until the day I saw my chance to break it and get away with it.

On a late summer afternoon my dad was out mowing the lawn. He had been out there for some time – cursing whenever the lawnmower hit a rock or a toy one of us had left in the yard, cursing when the lawnmower stalled for no apparent reason, cursing when the lawnmower fell into the small hollow where our garden used to be and slicing into the ground, throwing clods of dirt in the direction of our neighbor’s house. Meanwhile I was inside and his stereo was still blasting music in the living room, even though he clearly couldn’t hear it from outside. I knew that asking to turn the music off would only result in “no,” so when he was out mowing the far corner of the back yard I dropped one of my favorite albums into the six disc CD changer and put it next in the music cue. It took a few minutes to come around, but when Graham Parker’s “Fool’s Gold” faded out, this song came on:

R.E.M. – Finest Worksong

I knew my dad liked R.E.M., but I was the one who had put it on, and worse, I had interrupted what ever was next in his CD cue. Five minutes later he was in the house staring in disbelief at his stereo.

“Did you put this on?” he asked, swinging around to the couch where I sat wincing.

“Yes.”

He looked at the stereo again, then back at me.

“Good choice,” he said, and went back out to tend to more yard work.

That September he bought me my own stereo for my birthday, and whenever he wasn’t blasting music through the house (and neighborhood) on his stereo, I was doing the same on mine.

Show yourself

Frank — Wed, 11 Jan 2012 00:39:25 +0000

According to the Internet it is once again National Delurking Week (it seems like this happens every few months). I know that most people are too busy to comment and some people feel they have nothing to say about my half-assed posts – I understand. But if you’re reading, I want to hear from you, even if you’re reading in secret (or think you’re reading in secret).

As we have in the past, we’re going to do this with a few standard questions I’m hoping to find answers for:

1. How did you find your way here?

2. Can you recommend a blog I should read?

3. Do you know me outside of this blog?

(Optional Bonus Question)

4. Imagine we were at a fancy restaurant and I got up to use the men’s room, and while I was gone the check came; you’d wait for me to get back and we’d figure it out, right? You wouldn’t pay it and then assume I’d intentionally gone off to the bathroom just moments before the check conveniently arrived? I’m not saying this has ever happened and I’m not saying that my sister and her husband probably think I ducked the check because this is purely hypothetical and the hypothetical check came sooner than I had anticipated. The service was slow, I figured I had time…I mean, if this had happened.

Thanks for playing along. Feel free to bend the rules to suit your needs.

Coffee and humility revisited

Frank — Sun, 08 Jan 2012 20:59:38 +0000

Taking a moment to remember the best conversation I ever had with a Starbucks employee. It started when she said:

You look so familiar.

Really? Well I do come here probably two or three times a week.

No, you look…like an actor.

Ha, I’m not, but I hope you mean a talented and attractive actor.

No, I was thinking of the other kind. No one special.

Yeah, I get that a lot. You know, the old, “you don’t look special.” Well, thanks…

That’s me, no one special. Thanks for putting me in my place.

More forward thinking

Frank — Thu, 05 Jan 2012 23:38:16 +0000

Following up on yesterday’s post about things I will be doing in 2012, here are some things I hope to avoid this year:

Letting the past get in the way of the present – I’ve spent too much time thinking about days gone by instead of focusing on the things that are happening today. It’s important to learn about the past but more important to focus on the present.

Being driven crazy by the Lions – It’s just football; I don’t have any money riding on them and the team does not win or lose for me personally.

The candy machine in my office – It will miss me but I don’t need it.

Getting lost in my world – In years past when I got very busy with work or being worried about things I would go long periods of time without contacting people outside of those I see regularly. One of the things about leaving Chicago was that it allowed me to reconnect with a lot of people I care about before I left. I hope to avoid disappearing from sight this year.