THE DAYS OF...

I'm 2 weeks deep in what I refer to my "classes", which are actually out-patient treatment for being what a refer to as a "Problem-Human", or as the professionals consider "in-need", or common folk consider "normal". I've never been in any form of therapy before; I don't agree or disagree with it, but overall it's like a CHORE, something to do and after it's done I feel a slight relief.

From what I can tell, group therapy is less than effective in that many people are grouped together with many different needs, and as a result, the "Provider" is forced to gloss over all these fuck up's (me included) and tonight we settled on watched a movie, "The Days of Wine and Roses". It's black and white and stars one of my favorite actors, the legend...Jack Lemmon.

They are not long, the weeping and the laughter,
Love and desire and hate:
I think they have no portion in us after
We pass the gate.
They are not long, the days of wine and roses:
Out of a misty dream
Our path emerges for a while, then closes
Within a dream..

Pretty much sums it up for me right now; I really adhere to that particular stanza; I'm tired of being tired and chasing false dreams, done that for so long it's lead me to here, and here lacks a any satisfaction

I want REAL shit. But I can wait; been this patient might as well slowly churn this life out.

BAD MUSIC AND SEX

Someone asked me last night, if when engaging in "adult relations" would I pump the brakes if bad music was on. And without thinking I immediately responded "FUCK YES". It's happened before; I'm not so romantic that I try to set the mood with music, but I'll back that train up for a second if R.E.M. is on the stereo. I can't get down with that shit.

The person that asked me disagreed, but really, isn't life too short to listen to shitty music while getting your fuck on? I think so. Deep thoughts, I know (Jack Handy would be proud). Besides, I like the ambient "music" that a man makes when I do certain things to him. They ain't playing that shit on the radio.

On that note, I was once asked what is the nest music to get down to, and I have a perfect suggestion. The collaboration between Dan The Automator and Mike Patton, known as Lovage. Such tracks as "Book of the Month" ("you are the griddle I am the meat", "turn you on like the electric company", "use you like Listerine", etc), or "Stroker Ace" ("stroke that, it's the antidote, stroking it's what it's all about...").

That's the shit right there. And I plan on using it tomorrow night. Son.

UNCLE FRANK'S AWESOME MORNING DRIVE RADIO SHOW!

Way, way back I made a lame attempt at a "regular-ish" feature featuring my "Uncle" Frank. This is another, probably terrible attempt.

'Ey, 'dis Frank here. Asks me anythings you wanna answers fore. I ain't too intelligent but I gots my street smartz. Real life learn-un as my late Moms would sayz. Asks aways!

Frannie from Aurora

Q: Hey Frank, what do you think about Chicago losing the Olympic bid? Are we fucked or is the IOC just a group of Anti-American a-holes?

A: 'Ey Fran, ya knows, I used to bang a broad named Fran from Aurora back in '83. You the same broad? Why ain't you evah return Frank's callz? You probably forgot to pay da Ma Bell billz. Anyways, the O-Lympics? I'm f****n' glad as shit we didn't get 'em. The traffics on the Eisenhowerz is bad as it is. You know how long it takes to get from Cicero to Bridgeportz? F****n' foreverz! The O-Lympics would have been IDOT's wet dream twice ovah. Now I knowz we ain't getting any games I can sleep for 'nother 15 minutes before I have to drive to the meat packing plant on the South Side. 'Nuff sayz.

Peter from Elgin

Q: Hey Frank, long time listener, first time caller, love you, love your show. So, I got a new white dress shirt I've only worn once. Problem is, I spilled red wine on it. Any tips on how to remove the stain?

A: Yeah, I doze got an answerz. First, get yourself a Polish wife. Secondly, stop drinking that fancy pants red wine. Realz men drink Old Style, 'ski and occasionally Malort if ones of your dawhters is getting married. Youz fancy shirt is the least of your promblemz.

Pam from Lawndale

Q: Hi Frank, love you, love your show, 8th time caller. What are the Cubs gonna do about Milton Bradley? I mean, he seemed nice enough, but signing him to a 3 year $30 million contract was a mistake, right?

A: FUCK DA CUBZ. Next qwestion.

Stan from Hillside

Q: Uh...I was actually trying to contact Empire Carpets/588-2300, but I guess I dialed wrong. Anyways...ugh, what should we do about the Middle East? It seems like such a mess over there and...

A: Herez what needz to be dun, first, I'd eat 7 Polish sawsagezes, then maybe 4 er 5 fongerz of the Dewaaaaaarz, then "take care of sum paperworkz" in the shitter and thens, wait, what wuz the qwestion? Oh right. I'd reduce our dependence on foreign oilz, maybe start riding a bike, but not eat mad shit like my lil' cuz Justin From Chicago. F*****n' retard.

Justin's Ex-Roomie from Albany Park

Q: Hey Frank [brushes flowing blonde hair] is Jay Cutler the best Bears QB, or the BEST QB EVER? Also, what's up with his multiple chins?

A: Hey daaaaaaawlin', nice rack youz got therez. Da Cutler is the motherf****n' s**t, you not need to question his accuracy nor hiz chins. In fact, I poszit those chinz is why he throws with such athoritay. Obvz, he ain't no Jim McMan, but hez better than Neckbeard evah was nor will bez!

Justin from Chicago

Q: Hey asshole, long time listener, first time caller, 3rd cousin on your Mom's side. Can you please MOVE YOUR FUCKING your '71 AMC Javelin out of my FUCKING spot? And by my spot, I mean my living room. DICK!

A: YOU WATCH YUR MOUTH SUN! Uncle Frank is slightly drunk-y and looking to apply his partikular brand of Justuce! As soon as I'm dun wit des here hot wings, yur ass is grass, and uncle Frank is the lawun mowah!

JUSTIN SOLVES THE HEALTH CARE ISSUE

It's really quite simple people...

As one of 44+ million Americans without health insurance (and not the only one who is a fucking moron - but perhaps one of the most idiotic) the above image illustrates how I solved my recent medical "issue".

At the tail end of Labor Day weekend...I feel down a half flight of stairs. It sounds worse than it it. My buddy, who lives in the building next to me, rocks a sweet attic-like apartment. The only problem with his place, are the narrow/shallow/tall steps that one must negotiate 3 flights worth.

Was I high? Yeah. Drunk? You bet! The irony is that I was audibly giving him instructions on how best not to eat shit, when he said something funny and...I looked back at him and...FUCK! Needless to say, the law of gravity was soon very apparent to me.

Somehow I managed not to break my eyeglasses, iPhone, nor, miraculously, the fuckin' glass bowl in my hand (I didn't even drop any herb!). Thankfully after shaking myself off I was able to get off and slink back to my place next door.

In the morning I felt fine. At least I did until I got out of bed and tried to walk. OUCH! My right lower leg was in all kinds of pain. Had I had health insurance I would have gone straight to the doctor. Or, I would have if I had a car to get there. Or if I had someone to take me there. Or. Whatever. You get the point.

My goal for that morning was to rent a Zipcar to go grocery shopping. Sadly for me, the closest one was 12-ish blocks away. I tried my best to hobble towards it, but since I don't look nearly as cool as Clint Eastwood does when he squints/winces, I gave up half way there and went to Walgreen's to buy an ACE bandage, a pack of Camel Wide Lights and a bag of Cheetos.

2 days later, a few bags of ice, many re-runs of Mad Men and a bottle of vodka later, I feel like $10! Oh, and my pimp limp is nearly gone. So you see, you really don't need medical attention for stupid injuries such as these, and perhaps many others. You don't even need ibuprofen (see above)! Just watch that third step on my buddy's fucked up staircase - it's a doozy.

PS - !NICK! - Your t-shirt is coming along nicely.

I HATE UMBRELLAS

According to the research it just took me 30 seconds to do, the umbrella has been around since 21 A.D., when someone named Wang Mang utilized one in his wedding ceremony. To that I say, and this reasoning stands today in my mind....PUSSY. 

If you really need to be THAT protected from the elements, just stay the fuck inside. Last night, I was at my buddy's place, drunk/high as shit, it was 2AM and I got ready to extend my middle fingers at the passing CTA buses and walk the 1/2 mile or so home. 

Had I an umbrella in my possession, perhaps I would have considered walking bravely home in the elements. But after careful consideration (and a Camel Light) I decided this particular storm was not worth the effort. So I crashed on a couch instead.

This afternoon, on my way home, I walked in the light mist along a busy street and had to dodge people with umbrellas left, and right. Come on people really? YOU WILL NOT MELT. And stop taking up the entire fucking sidewalk while threatening to stab me in the eye[s) with your useless contraption. 

Whew, not to get too worked up about something so inane, but it got me thinking, and thus, I determined there are only 3 legit reasons to use an umbrella:

1. You are my Mom, circa 1989 and just got your hair did/permed. 

2. You have a recent head wound, and the stitches are sticky.

3. You are Michael Jackson.

Outside of those 3 reasons, just suck it the fuck up and let the moisture accumulate on your head and body. It's really not that bad. In fact, you might even look all unexpectedly hot to a random stranger.   

I'LL BE FRANK WIT YOUZ

Having discovered that Radar magazine has given certified Grade AAA Fuckface Spencer Pratt his own advice column, I've decided to counteract this unfortunate development and decided to ask my Uncle Frank to dispense his worldly advice to my readers.

A bit about Frank: he's my Mother's older brother, lives in Jefferson Park (big ups to Jeff Park!) with his incredibly tolerant 3rd wife, her teenage son from her 2nd marriage and "Butkus", his loyal Doberman.

Having just retired from the Chicago Police (he blew out his knee chasing protesters at an anti-Bush rally in the Loop last April) he has NOTHING to do until football season begins except drink and eat ribs. And since he's always telling everyone what to do, I thought this would a perfect way to keep him sober for at least part of the day.

HEY UNCLE FRANK! I just started dating this guy who I really like. The other night, we went out and got hammered. I ended up passing out in his bed. When I woke up, I discovered that I had wet the bed. I was so embarrassed that I left while he was still asleep. If I call him, do I have to apologize or can I pretend it never happened? Or do I have to wait for him to call me?

I'LL BE FRANK WIT YOUZ...back in 89' I wuz at Shoulders Fields and da Bearz was playin' those faggot Fourdie Ninahs. Da weather wuz below 24 daygrees and I wuz outta Jawck Danyulls, so ya know what I do? I fawckin' piss myself to keeps warm. Ann ya know what? It worked like a chaarum. So maybes youz wuz just real cold when youz sleept. Dis guy you wuz wit seeemz like a fawckin' doopeck. Aint nawthin' wraong wit youz hun. Nevuh pologize for keeping youz warm.

HEY UNCLE FRANK! I've met my girlfriend's mother once and she really didn't like me. We're going to spend the weekend with her whole family and I need to win her over. What can I do to charm her?

I'LL BE FRANK WIT YOUZ...itz nevuh easie meetin' the muthuh of the womenz youz bangin'. Of coarse this brawdz mutuh dont like you, yuz the guy giving his dawghtah the ol polish sawsage everyznight. Youz mite try buying dis brawds mutuh a nice szarlotka or maybes a babka piaskowa. I know a guy that knows dis guy makes um real good. And den I sugeest youz stop being such a liddle kurwa.

HEY UNCLE FRANK! How do you deal with weak people and haters?

I'LL BE FRANK WIT YOUZ...Da utter night me and da boyz was at da Ham Tree watchin da Cubbies, knee deep in Piwo when dis fawckin' guy has da awdacity to ask the barmaid to change the channel so he could watch that foggot Howrey Mandela on dat fawckin' No Deal show. I mean, I ain't naw cwel, and da got some some tail on dat show...but we was down 2 runs in da eight innings and he sayz to me "but it's the season finale!" and I sayz "yeah, and dis is a bottle of Piwo that gunna break your face open like Ron Jeremy woods a vag-pie". Ha! Shoulda seen the look on his kidz face.

Have a personal problem and would like to receive rambling, nonsensical advice riddled with grammatical errors? Feel free to e-mail me at justinchicago@gmail.com. I'll be sure that Frank receives your questions...after he wakes up from his drunken stupor.