6.2.14
the people, they aren't a-changin'
thoughtfully unappreciative and sincerely preoccupied.
behaviors unbecoming become the best that i can muster.
i am leaving this forest as soon as i can get a handle on these brand new legs.
(and yes, i am aware that i say this on a bi-weekly basis.)
ready, aim, long shot, quiver.
release, exhale, follow through, barely deliver.
have i missed our mark entirely?
frail nerves can bend the strongest of spines.
and strong words can break a person in two.
strong but true? true but right? right but just? but just how strong? am i right?
one must never quake in the presence of thy own true self.
we all must... jesus christmas it's beautiful outside!
-2014, frnkiero.
behaviors unbecoming become the best that i can muster.
i am leaving this forest as soon as i can get a handle on these brand new legs.
(and yes, i am aware that i say this on a bi-weekly basis.)
ready, aim, long shot, quiver.
release, exhale, follow through, barely deliver.
have i missed our mark entirely?
frail nerves can bend the strongest of spines.
and strong words can break a person in two.
strong but true? true but right? right but just? but just how strong? am i right?
one must never quake in the presence of thy own true self.
we all must... jesus christmas it's beautiful outside!
-2014, frnkiero.
3.12.14
untitled.
carving. playful. unnerving. posture.
blissful. bounding. boastful. instigator.
am i not the earnest bystander forgotten by time?
...and space?
(we're losing it.)
living. loving. loafing. gloss.
kissing. cussing. stressful. cousins.
your playful nature can't hide you for long.
(or will it?)
now go and forever delete this minute and a half.
pose and release. forgive without forget.
prose and regret. silently swallow it all down.
i've been better, but i've also been worse.
(oh, but haven't we all?)
smile or die.
we can live with or without the (fantastically)(desperate) game of chance.
-2014, frnkiero.
blissful. bounding. boastful. instigator.
am i not the earnest bystander forgotten by time?
...and space?
(we're losing it.)
living. loving. loafing. gloss.
kissing. cussing. stressful. cousins.
your playful nature can't hide you for long.
(or will it?)
now go and forever delete this minute and a half.
pose and release. forgive without forget.
prose and regret. silently swallow it all down.
i've been better, but i've also been worse.
(oh, but haven't we all?)
smile or die.
we can live with or without the (fantastically)(desperate) game of chance.
-2014, frnkiero.
2.28.14
pocket treasure...
i love putting on a shirt or jacket i haven't worn in awhile and finding pocket treasures. an old receipt, a crumbled up piece of paper with a note scribbled on it, maybe a movie ticket from a few years ago. are they insignificant pieces of garbage? or relics of a former life, begging to remind you that there was in fact a world you existed in before you woke up this morning?
at times it can be easy to get wrapped up. to take things for granted, to forget our surroundings or the small experiences of our past... but make no mistake, these neural connections, no matter how tiny, are important to the person you are and the person you may become. nothing is trivial, everything matters even if it's been pushed to the back of your mind for a little while. i enjoy being made aware of that from time to time.
we are who we are, because of who we were and where we've been. xofrnk.
at times it can be easy to get wrapped up. to take things for granted, to forget our surroundings or the small experiences of our past... but make no mistake, these neural connections, no matter how tiny, are important to the person you are and the person you may become. nothing is trivial, everything matters even if it's been pushed to the back of your mind for a little while. i enjoy being made aware of that from time to time.
we are who we are, because of who we were and where we've been. xofrnk.
1.19.14
'2.5mg just ain't enough for me.'
(we may wanna grow old. but we don't wanna grow up.)
yea it may be a lie to tell everyone i'm fine when i get so tired of all my tired plans
so i won't hesitate to make all the big mistakes cause i get so excited when my sky falls down.
my smile is a wasteland, my 'sorry's are a wasteland
my body breaks from all the weight on my shoulders.
my love is a wasteland, my forgiveness is a wasteland
i felt all the aches a heart could take. i'll be goddamned.
i'm so tired of all this quiet.
yet i still hesitate in hopes that i'll save some face.
i wanna grow old, but i don't wanna grow up.
no wonder i wander, and i wonder just who i am.
my smile is a wasteland, my 'sorry's are a wasteland
my body breaks from all the weight on my shoulders.
my love is a wasteland, my stomach is a wasteland.
i felt all the aches my heart could take. i'll be goddamned.
- 2013, frnkiero.
yea it may be a lie to tell everyone i'm fine when i get so tired of all my tired plans
so i won't hesitate to make all the big mistakes cause i get so excited when my sky falls down.
my smile is a wasteland, my 'sorry's are a wasteland
my body breaks from all the weight on my shoulders.
my love is a wasteland, my forgiveness is a wasteland
i felt all the aches a heart could take. i'll be goddamned.
i'm so tired of all this quiet.
yet i still hesitate in hopes that i'll save some face.
i wanna grow old, but i don't wanna grow up.
no wonder i wander, and i wonder just who i am.
my smile is a wasteland, my 'sorry's are a wasteland
my body breaks from all the weight on my shoulders.
my love is a wasteland, my stomach is a wasteland.
i felt all the aches my heart could take. i'll be goddamned.
- 2013, frnkiero.
1.2.14
harpy new jeers
dearest reader,
i hope you find your love and peace this coming year. may the past stay the past, and the present be enjoyed to the fullest. i wish you and those that you love good health and good luck. avoid the plague, learn from your mistakes, and never give up on your dreams.
xofrnk
i hope you find your love and peace this coming year. may the past stay the past, and the present be enjoyed to the fullest. i wish you and those that you love good health and good luck. avoid the plague, learn from your mistakes, and never give up on your dreams.
xofrnk
10.23.13
'new to a few'
my flu shot made me sick.
my blood work made me bleed.
my coffee made me tired.
my good looks made me a legend.
cough cough laugh riot cough cough laugh riot
.pause.
who will prop you up when you are just too weak to stand?
who will mess up that face when you are just too pretty to leave this house?
i fear for those that we love...(because they are loved by us.)
i fear for those that we loathe...(because they are loathed by us.)
doing my worst. doing the most damage.
doing it first. inflicting the most damage.
praying you'll leave. hoping you don't.
trying to breath. hoping i won't.
guitar solo
chorus
done.
-2013, frnkiero.
my blood work made me bleed.
my coffee made me tired.
my good looks made me a legend.
cough cough laugh riot cough cough laugh riot
.pause.
who will prop you up when you are just too weak to stand?
who will mess up that face when you are just too pretty to leave this house?
i fear for those that we love...(because they are loved by us.)
i fear for those that we loathe...(because they are loathed by us.)
doing my worst. doing the most damage.
doing it first. inflicting the most damage.
praying you'll leave. hoping you don't.
trying to breath. hoping i won't.
guitar solo
chorus
done.
-2013, frnkiero.
10.19.13
'in the end, all we want is to be missed.'
taken 2013, by frnkiero.
bury me here
in my house, in my bed.
next to my wife, close to my kin,
with this pillow under my head.
under cover,
under clover.
in darkness,
in shade.
unfinished, yet complete.
all i ask is that you say,
'we miss you terribly.'
-2013 frnkiero.
in my house, in my bed.
next to my wife, close to my kin,
with this pillow under my head.
under cover,
under clover.
in darkness,
in shade.
unfinished, yet complete.
all i ask is that you say,
'we miss you terribly.'
-2013 frnkiero.
7.29.13
SHE DON'T LIE: a show review
*unedited and uncut
'Adventures In Show Going Episode II: Cold Cave and Boyd Rice @ St. Vitus Brooklyn NY'
I really like cold cave, however my initial reaction to the band was that of my inner teenager, Holden Caulfield-ing my musical taste into a tightly wrapped box. Sometimes this happens, even to the best of us. But we recover and we move on. And if we are smart, we pretend that we got it all along…and if we are masochists, we confess our shortcomings in a weekly northern NJ based music magazine.
I must say my friendly metal adventure companion was a true believer from the start and he gently nudged me along the road to becoming a fan and an admirer of the band. The next logical step of course was attendance of a show.
When we saw cold cave would be hitting the road with the infamous Boyd Rice, and that they would be playing 2 NYC dates. The only question was do we again risk our skins at 285 Kent where the show would start at a reasonable hour but our lives had once flashed before our very eyes…or do we venture to St. Vitus where we would presumably be safe from harm but the show began at the snoozey hour of 11:59pm? The promise of experiencing the show without malice and in the company of spooky Brooklyn goths at midnight was just too much to pass up. So we sucked it up like men (like wrinkly old men), downed a Starbucks 5 hour energy drink cocktail, and headed out to St. Vitus for the musical witching hour.
When we got to the club I quickly assessed the drink deals. Cheap PBR tall boys and shot combos named after popes ensured the going got going and the stained glass inverted crucifixion scene made me feel downright giddy.
As we rounded the midnight mark my stomach aches hit 88mph and I began to think 'Jeez, I had no idea they made so many youth large burzum t-shirts'
The dimmest of lights got even dimmer and smoke began to fill the bar, the show was finally upon us. My friend and I took control of a back corner by the merch where I found a chair to stand on as my comrade fought off the Sid and Nancy's for dominance of our area. As cold cave and Boyd Rice hit their stride I started to feel the crowd getting a bit thinner, which was strange because no one was leaving. I mean I would have noticed from my vantage point of being perched, crow-like, by the back door. Strange.
The sound was booming so hard that in the off beats you could feel the air being sucked toward the stage, as if the band were trying to steal your breath from your lungs. By the fourth song I realized the push and pull of air was getting much stronger and it seemed to be concentrated on the stage left side. What was happening over there? It felt like a rip tide hidden in the hazed out air, pulling everything and everyone into it’s nothingness. If only the club wasn't so dark I could see from whence this wrenching sensation was coming from. Just then a forgotten strobe pulsated to life as if replying to my inquiry and revealed a shadowy figure of a man in a leather biker hat and pitch black aviators snorting cocaine with the fury of a god. But it wasn't just the openness to revealing his superhero like tolerance of illegal substances that scared me shitless; it was that I could finally see where the sold out crowd was going! As the set reached a fever pitch the band and crowd alike lost themselves in the hypnotic electronics and the stage left snorting got so intense that it literally opened a doorway into the nostrils of Boyd Rice. This black hole located in the middle of his looming sneer became so violent and consuming that it felt as if we were standing in front of a B-2 jet engine.
The line of concert goers in front of us realized what was happening just as it was too late and as her friends disappeared into oblivion a girl with my haircut from 9years ago tightly grabbed onto my friends shirtsleeve. The narcotic fueled vortex had taken hold of her and her black velvet skirt was rippling in the tornado’s grasp. I grabbed hold of the merch table and looked back as she mouthed the words 'help me' but my friend and I both knew she was dead already. The stitches around my companion’s sleeve came loose and we watched as the young goth spiraled into music history along with a swatch of flannel fabric.
We turned to try and find a way out of the back room but the exit was still too far off. One more bump of white and we would be joining the party in Boyd's blood stream. As I looked back at my fellow adventurer I couldn't help but chuckle because now wearing a sleeveless flannel he finally looked as if he belonged in Brooklyn. But the levity was short lived and without words my friend and I came to an understanding. We closed our eyes and accepted our fate, but something was wrong, the next fix never came. Instead Mr. Rice seemed ill affected in some way. Shaken off his snowy game. He was grimacing and rubbing his nose. And that’s when it hit me!
‘He’s allergic to flannel!’ I exclaimed, and as the words escaped my throat Boyd's nostrils opened up with an explosive sneeze that engulfed our world. Plumes of cocaine and black hair dye filled the sacrilegious club. And things were once again a cold cave show, filled to the rafters with snotty Brooklynites and mounds of drugs. It was indeed the best show ever.
-Frnkiero NYC 2013
*Originally appeared in The Aquarian Weekly July 17- July 24, 2013 issue Vol. 2-721
I really like cold cave, however my initial reaction to the band was that of my inner teenager, Holden Caulfield-ing my musical taste into a tightly wrapped box. Sometimes this happens, even to the best of us. But we recover and we move on. And if we are smart, we pretend that we got it all along…and if we are masochists, we confess our shortcomings in a weekly northern NJ based music magazine.
I must say my friendly metal adventure companion was a true believer from the start and he gently nudged me along the road to becoming a fan and an admirer of the band. The next logical step of course was attendance of a show.
When we saw cold cave would be hitting the road with the infamous Boyd Rice, and that they would be playing 2 NYC dates. The only question was do we again risk our skins at 285 Kent where the show would start at a reasonable hour but our lives had once flashed before our very eyes…or do we venture to St. Vitus where we would presumably be safe from harm but the show began at the snoozey hour of 11:59pm? The promise of experiencing the show without malice and in the company of spooky Brooklyn goths at midnight was just too much to pass up. So we sucked it up like men (like wrinkly old men), downed a Starbucks 5 hour energy drink cocktail, and headed out to St. Vitus for the musical witching hour.
When we got to the club I quickly assessed the drink deals. Cheap PBR tall boys and shot combos named after popes ensured the going got going and the stained glass inverted crucifixion scene made me feel downright giddy.
As we rounded the midnight mark my stomach aches hit 88mph and I began to think 'Jeez, I had no idea they made so many youth large burzum t-shirts'
The dimmest of lights got even dimmer and smoke began to fill the bar, the show was finally upon us. My friend and I took control of a back corner by the merch where I found a chair to stand on as my comrade fought off the Sid and Nancy's for dominance of our area. As cold cave and Boyd Rice hit their stride I started to feel the crowd getting a bit thinner, which was strange because no one was leaving. I mean I would have noticed from my vantage point of being perched, crow-like, by the back door. Strange.
The sound was booming so hard that in the off beats you could feel the air being sucked toward the stage, as if the band were trying to steal your breath from your lungs. By the fourth song I realized the push and pull of air was getting much stronger and it seemed to be concentrated on the stage left side. What was happening over there? It felt like a rip tide hidden in the hazed out air, pulling everything and everyone into it’s nothingness. If only the club wasn't so dark I could see from whence this wrenching sensation was coming from. Just then a forgotten strobe pulsated to life as if replying to my inquiry and revealed a shadowy figure of a man in a leather biker hat and pitch black aviators snorting cocaine with the fury of a god. But it wasn't just the openness to revealing his superhero like tolerance of illegal substances that scared me shitless; it was that I could finally see where the sold out crowd was going! As the set reached a fever pitch the band and crowd alike lost themselves in the hypnotic electronics and the stage left snorting got so intense that it literally opened a doorway into the nostrils of Boyd Rice. This black hole located in the middle of his looming sneer became so violent and consuming that it felt as if we were standing in front of a B-2 jet engine.
The line of concert goers in front of us realized what was happening just as it was too late and as her friends disappeared into oblivion a girl with my haircut from 9years ago tightly grabbed onto my friends shirtsleeve. The narcotic fueled vortex had taken hold of her and her black velvet skirt was rippling in the tornado’s grasp. I grabbed hold of the merch table and looked back as she mouthed the words 'help me' but my friend and I both knew she was dead already. The stitches around my companion’s sleeve came loose and we watched as the young goth spiraled into music history along with a swatch of flannel fabric.
We turned to try and find a way out of the back room but the exit was still too far off. One more bump of white and we would be joining the party in Boyd's blood stream. As I looked back at my fellow adventurer I couldn't help but chuckle because now wearing a sleeveless flannel he finally looked as if he belonged in Brooklyn. But the levity was short lived and without words my friend and I came to an understanding. We closed our eyes and accepted our fate, but something was wrong, the next fix never came. Instead Mr. Rice seemed ill affected in some way. Shaken off his snowy game. He was grimacing and rubbing his nose. And that’s when it hit me!
‘He’s allergic to flannel!’ I exclaimed, and as the words escaped my throat Boyd's nostrils opened up with an explosive sneeze that engulfed our world. Plumes of cocaine and black hair dye filled the sacrilegious club. And things were once again a cold cave show, filled to the rafters with snotty Brooklynites and mounds of drugs. It was indeed the best show ever.
-Frnkiero NYC 2013
*Originally appeared in The Aquarian Weekly July 17- July 24, 2013 issue Vol. 2-721
7.23.13
'(daydreaming)'
i am a sucker for when the heavens get so angry they attack the earth with a forceful downpour.
i lock myself inside. i can hear their pounding.
ah....and the lightning.
the sky cracks open. a celestial misstep, a momentary glimpse behind the forbidden curtain.
but they can't touch me.
no matter how hard they try.
nothing gets in.
i am only a witness.
not involved, far removed. (daydreaming)
wishing for their worst, hoping for the best.
watching. soaking in the serenity through chaos.
constantly moving, all while standing still.
bated breath.
listen.
(stop)
-2013, frnkiero.
i lock myself inside. i can hear their pounding.
ah....and the lightning.
the sky cracks open. a celestial misstep, a momentary glimpse behind the forbidden curtain.
but they can't touch me.
no matter how hard they try.
nothing gets in.
i am only a witness.
not involved, far removed. (daydreaming)
wishing for their worst, hoping for the best.
watching. soaking in the serenity through chaos.
constantly moving, all while standing still.
bated breath.
listen.
(stop)
-2013, frnkiero.
7.4.13
'black powder makes mouths happy'
when the satellites exploded without warning or prejudice, we knew it was time for a change.
these offerings i brought won't last the night. but at least i hardly tried.
my fog once blank now pink and blue has blessed our dead and kissed the doors closed.
her rotten gait once held the scent of flowers but nothing more...and the cover up was fleeting at best.
i am tired.
i am full.
reinvigorated.
and spent.
illegal explosives and the searing of flesh brought to you by the heartland.
i've found nothing but smiles and holes in my vans.
my body stinks of experiences my mind has forgot, and my heart aches for the memories we have yet to make together,
forevers,
for each other,
though weathered.
bang bang, this conversation is over.
bang bang, it is not the first, but it is the last.
bang bang, tonight is dead.
...and tomorrows shall wait in the wings.
-2013, frnkiero.
these offerings i brought won't last the night. but at least i hardly tried.
my fog once blank now pink and blue has blessed our dead and kissed the doors closed.
her rotten gait once held the scent of flowers but nothing more...and the cover up was fleeting at best.
i am tired.
i am full.
reinvigorated.
and spent.
illegal explosives and the searing of flesh brought to you by the heartland.
i've found nothing but smiles and holes in my vans.
my body stinks of experiences my mind has forgot, and my heart aches for the memories we have yet to make together,
forevers,
for each other,
though weathered.
bang bang, this conversation is over.
bang bang, it is not the first, but it is the last.
bang bang, tonight is dead.
...and tomorrows shall wait in the wings.
-2013, frnkiero.
7.3.13
A FORCE TO BE WRECKED WITH: a show review.
*unedited and uncut.
'Adventures In Show Going, Episode I: Raspberry Bulbs @ 285 Kent.'
Our story begins 2 months ago when my friendly metal companion played me a new record he had just acquired, Nature Tries Again by Raspberry Bulbs. We both geeked out over how it sounded as if the Vaselines and Black Metal had met and awkwardly fucked in an alley (all alley fucking is awkward by the way.) The record became our jam. So naturally when we stumbled upon a flier that Raspberry Bulbs would be playing some sketchy address in their hometown of Brooklyn NY plans were made and kept.
The Thursday night show quickly arrived and so did my ever-present stomachaches. Rain fell in torrential sheets, and thunder shook the house in which I cowered. I contemplated staying in like the old fogey I am. The scene of my wife and I curling up on the couch resting our wrinkly bones while the elements battled it out against our window flashed before my eyes. But how could I face my friend ever again, especially if he ever found out the truth? And so I forced myself to leave the house and have a good time like the young person I sometimes pretend to be. As I cautiously took the drive to my friend’s house from where he promised to drive us to the show, I thought ‘thank Bruce Willis my driving duties are done for the night, this shit is dangerous’. If you know me, then you know there is nothing worse than my sense of direction, my sight on a rainy night, or my parking capabilities in NYC. He of course knew me and in turn knew this much about me, so he graciously offered to ease my embarrassment as long as he didn’t have to come get me from Bumblesville NJ. Flooded streets and bumper-to-bumper traffic foreboded our adventure into the city that night. We raided his iPod for records we hadn’t heard in years to get our minds off the abysmal weather and our filling bladders. Drinking coffee and knocking off the digital dust worked only so long and soon my urinary tract alarm was going off like that digital watch you have no clue how to work. At times I can be annoying and painful to be around…you should see me when I have to pee terribly.
Just as the thought of jumping out of the car and diving into oncoming traffic to end my misery came to the front of my mind we pulled up to the address and found a parking spot directly out front. Suspicious to say the least? Yes. Maybe our luck had turned, the god’s of rock shows long passed were smiling upon us and my dry underwear was not about to question them. We entered the building and paid our fee. A cool ten dollars each, a small price to pay for peepee relief and a good time.
I ran-walked to the bathroom…no line, what luck. As I entered the tiny room that resembled a horse stall I noticed the flying insects. They climbed over one another as if pushing to the front barricade of a tiny insect Justin Bieber concert. In my life I have watched my fare share of crime dramas. CSI, Criminal Minds, Law and Order…Criminal Intent, SVU, and the OG shit. Correction I have probably watched a lot more than my fare share of crime dramas in my lifetime. In my heart pit I knew the bugs could only mean one thing, there was something dead here. Possibly a young debutante OD’ed at a NYC rave last month, her body stuffed into the adjacent closet to hide the horrific accident. Or maybe a building inspector came to investigate noise complaints one night and threatened to shut the makeshift venue down, forcing the surely show promoter to take actions into his own hands. Or possibly a young correspondent for Vice Magazine had overstepped or gotten a tad too personal when giving a local metal band a poor review and was sacrificed for his unrecognized wit. Yea, I needed a drink.
When I finished my 5th cocktail just as if a starter pistol went off the show began. Blaring out of phase guitar and synth came flying through the speakers like the red baron, as two young men slammed drumsticks onto a pile of metal sheets. What I thought were whiskey shots came and went and a woman got on the microphone and started repeating a melody of sorts…that’s when my stomach prescriptions kicked into full gear.
All at once the sound stopped and the quietest fight I have ever bared witness to broke out in front of the stage. A handsome young woman in full crust punk attire punched the sound technician square in his ‘Billy Idol wearing Don Johnson’s jacket’ face. No one around me knew if this was part of the entertainment for the evening or an actual display of fisticuffs. But I immediately thought to myself ‘the owners are probably going to kill this punk chic and shove her body into the walls of the bathroom. DUN-DUN (law and order sound effects)’
Time shifted, as it tends to do when you are full on script fucked and a band that sounded like the germs engulfed the stage. They had a projector that only played the blue ‘no disc found’ screen onto their drummer for their entire set and their singer as far as my brain could register was Jason Bateman from teen wolf too. Before I could bring my hands into a clapping motion and tell my friend that this was totally next fucking level Raspberry Bulbs were halfway through their set. What the fuck was happening…
What peaked my interest most was how the crowd had turned from a semi rowdy punk show into a scene from the children of the corn. No one made a sound, no movement was detectable, and all emotion had been drained from their faces. The band sounded exact to the recording my friend and I had been frothing over for the past month; did this attention to sonic detail somehow hypnotize the cutoff denim vested crowd? They seemed to be entranced by these punk rock sirens…under their complete control. Could they be forced to do things against their will? Buy t-shirts? Overthrow empires? Kill debutantes and shove their corpses into walls? Holy fuck we had to get out of here.
I grabbed my friends sleeve and as if reading each other’s minds we both took off for the only exit we had seen. Snakes danced under the makeshift bar and the merch table caught fire as we passed. I felt the crowd turn and stare at us as we rounded the corner headed for the exit. If we looked back, even for a second, I knew we would be maggot food. A few steps away from the doorway a concrete slab started crashing down threatening to cover the only way out. My friend and I tucked and rolled just in time and we spilled out onto the Brooklyn streets. Fresh sobering air flooded our lungs and as I tried to form the words ‘are you ok?’ my bedside alarm clock shrilly took precedence.
-Frnkiero NYC May 2013.
*Originally appeared in the Aquarian Weekly June 26-July3, 2013 issue Vol. 2-718
Our story begins 2 months ago when my friendly metal companion played me a new record he had just acquired, Nature Tries Again by Raspberry Bulbs. We both geeked out over how it sounded as if the Vaselines and Black Metal had met and awkwardly fucked in an alley (all alley fucking is awkward by the way.) The record became our jam. So naturally when we stumbled upon a flier that Raspberry Bulbs would be playing some sketchy address in their hometown of Brooklyn NY plans were made and kept.
The Thursday night show quickly arrived and so did my ever-present stomachaches. Rain fell in torrential sheets, and thunder shook the house in which I cowered. I contemplated staying in like the old fogey I am. The scene of my wife and I curling up on the couch resting our wrinkly bones while the elements battled it out against our window flashed before my eyes. But how could I face my friend ever again, especially if he ever found out the truth? And so I forced myself to leave the house and have a good time like the young person I sometimes pretend to be. As I cautiously took the drive to my friend’s house from where he promised to drive us to the show, I thought ‘thank Bruce Willis my driving duties are done for the night, this shit is dangerous’. If you know me, then you know there is nothing worse than my sense of direction, my sight on a rainy night, or my parking capabilities in NYC. He of course knew me and in turn knew this much about me, so he graciously offered to ease my embarrassment as long as he didn’t have to come get me from Bumblesville NJ. Flooded streets and bumper-to-bumper traffic foreboded our adventure into the city that night. We raided his iPod for records we hadn’t heard in years to get our minds off the abysmal weather and our filling bladders. Drinking coffee and knocking off the digital dust worked only so long and soon my urinary tract alarm was going off like that digital watch you have no clue how to work. At times I can be annoying and painful to be around…you should see me when I have to pee terribly.
Just as the thought of jumping out of the car and diving into oncoming traffic to end my misery came to the front of my mind we pulled up to the address and found a parking spot directly out front. Suspicious to say the least? Yes. Maybe our luck had turned, the god’s of rock shows long passed were smiling upon us and my dry underwear was not about to question them. We entered the building and paid our fee. A cool ten dollars each, a small price to pay for peepee relief and a good time.
I ran-walked to the bathroom…no line, what luck. As I entered the tiny room that resembled a horse stall I noticed the flying insects. They climbed over one another as if pushing to the front barricade of a tiny insect Justin Bieber concert. In my life I have watched my fare share of crime dramas. CSI, Criminal Minds, Law and Order…Criminal Intent, SVU, and the OG shit. Correction I have probably watched a lot more than my fare share of crime dramas in my lifetime. In my heart pit I knew the bugs could only mean one thing, there was something dead here. Possibly a young debutante OD’ed at a NYC rave last month, her body stuffed into the adjacent closet to hide the horrific accident. Or maybe a building inspector came to investigate noise complaints one night and threatened to shut the makeshift venue down, forcing the surely show promoter to take actions into his own hands. Or possibly a young correspondent for Vice Magazine had overstepped or gotten a tad too personal when giving a local metal band a poor review and was sacrificed for his unrecognized wit. Yea, I needed a drink.
When I finished my 5th cocktail just as if a starter pistol went off the show began. Blaring out of phase guitar and synth came flying through the speakers like the red baron, as two young men slammed drumsticks onto a pile of metal sheets. What I thought were whiskey shots came and went and a woman got on the microphone and started repeating a melody of sorts…that’s when my stomach prescriptions kicked into full gear.
All at once the sound stopped and the quietest fight I have ever bared witness to broke out in front of the stage. A handsome young woman in full crust punk attire punched the sound technician square in his ‘Billy Idol wearing Don Johnson’s jacket’ face. No one around me knew if this was part of the entertainment for the evening or an actual display of fisticuffs. But I immediately thought to myself ‘the owners are probably going to kill this punk chic and shove her body into the walls of the bathroom. DUN-DUN (law and order sound effects)’
Time shifted, as it tends to do when you are full on script fucked and a band that sounded like the germs engulfed the stage. They had a projector that only played the blue ‘no disc found’ screen onto their drummer for their entire set and their singer as far as my brain could register was Jason Bateman from teen wolf too. Before I could bring my hands into a clapping motion and tell my friend that this was totally next fucking level Raspberry Bulbs were halfway through their set. What the fuck was happening…
What peaked my interest most was how the crowd had turned from a semi rowdy punk show into a scene from the children of the corn. No one made a sound, no movement was detectable, and all emotion had been drained from their faces. The band sounded exact to the recording my friend and I had been frothing over for the past month; did this attention to sonic detail somehow hypnotize the cutoff denim vested crowd? They seemed to be entranced by these punk rock sirens…under their complete control. Could they be forced to do things against their will? Buy t-shirts? Overthrow empires? Kill debutantes and shove their corpses into walls? Holy fuck we had to get out of here.
I grabbed my friends sleeve and as if reading each other’s minds we both took off for the only exit we had seen. Snakes danced under the makeshift bar and the merch table caught fire as we passed. I felt the crowd turn and stare at us as we rounded the corner headed for the exit. If we looked back, even for a second, I knew we would be maggot food. A few steps away from the doorway a concrete slab started crashing down threatening to cover the only way out. My friend and I tucked and rolled just in time and we spilled out onto the Brooklyn streets. Fresh sobering air flooded our lungs and as I tried to form the words ‘are you ok?’ my bedside alarm clock shrilly took precedence.
-Frnkiero NYC May 2013.
*Originally appeared in the Aquarian Weekly June 26-July3, 2013 issue Vol. 2-718
6.18.13
untitled.
i am the fucking best at being the absolute worst.
i am the michael jordan of avoiding conversations.
i am the ludwig van beethoven of not cleaning up after myself.
i am the don draper of getting a stomach ache.
i am the mahatma gandhi of forgetting people's names.
i am the steve jobs of clogging toilets.
i am the muhammad ali of misspelling words and incorrect punctuation.
i am the abraham lincoln of getting migraines.
i am the william shakespeare of falling down the stairs.
i am the mother teresa of procrastination.
i am the beatles of cumming too quick.
i am the jesus christ of angsty bullshit.
i am the coffee grinds at the bottom of your cup...the paper cut in between your fingers, the piss on the seat, the chapped lips, the humidity, the empty gas tank, the empty wallet, the boy that never called, the girl that wished you did, the complaint, the job, the boss, the traffic, the commercials, the time you did that thing you regret with your entire being.
i am alive at times and dead at others.
i am loved, and so i love.
i've been hurt, and so i hurt.
i am you, and you are me...
and we are perfectly imperfect...
as we should be.
-2013, frnkiero.
i am the michael jordan of avoiding conversations.
i am the ludwig van beethoven of not cleaning up after myself.
i am the don draper of getting a stomach ache.
i am the mahatma gandhi of forgetting people's names.
i am the steve jobs of clogging toilets.
i am the muhammad ali of misspelling words and incorrect punctuation.
i am the abraham lincoln of getting migraines.
i am the william shakespeare of falling down the stairs.
i am the mother teresa of procrastination.
i am the beatles of cumming too quick.
i am the jesus christ of angsty bullshit.
i am the coffee grinds at the bottom of your cup...the paper cut in between your fingers, the piss on the seat, the chapped lips, the humidity, the empty gas tank, the empty wallet, the boy that never called, the girl that wished you did, the complaint, the job, the boss, the traffic, the commercials, the time you did that thing you regret with your entire being.
i am alive at times and dead at others.
i am loved, and so i love.
i've been hurt, and so i hurt.
i am you, and you are me...
and we are perfectly imperfect...
as we should be.
-2013, frnkiero.
5.14.13
' '
let's not fool ourselves friends. the end of the world is here.
when all the white noise runs dry and the alcohol gets turned down to a dull hum ...all we may have is each other's shitty company.
(i will wait for you.)
though our lips have not touched, we breathe the same air
and as our molecules collide you shall know this to be true.
for if you don't ...well then maybe i've been wasting my time.
these things we say, are not just things we say...they are our lies and our truth. our love and our hate.
and though my tongue may be sharp at times, in my heart i believe in us.
let me decompose in this embrace and be reborn as a fond memory for the dust to settle on and enjoy.
-settle down-
the moments we've shared together, real or imagined, are just a preamble.
i look forward to floating, lost, in our vastness.
sediment-ally yours,
frnk.
-2013, frnkiero.
when all the white noise runs dry and the alcohol gets turned down to a dull hum ...all we may have is each other's shitty company.
(i will wait for you.)
though our lips have not touched, we breathe the same air
and as our molecules collide you shall know this to be true.
for if you don't ...well then maybe i've been wasting my time.
these things we say, are not just things we say...they are our lies and our truth. our love and our hate.
and though my tongue may be sharp at times, in my heart i believe in us.
let me decompose in this embrace and be reborn as a fond memory for the dust to settle on and enjoy.
-settle down-
the moments we've shared together, real or imagined, are just a preamble.
i look forward to floating, lost, in our vastness.
sediment-ally yours,
frnk.
-2013, frnkiero.
5.10.13
'bring it? consider it fucking brung.'
found, scrawled on a piece of paper on my nightstand:
'it is 4 am eastern standard time and i just finished watching the cinematic adventure, dante's peak, on cable. not shitty basic cable mind you, but real ass, pay extra money, premium channel, beamed down from the heavens type cable. aaaand well i gotta say, i feel violated... i feel like maybe i should shit my pajama pants, open up my cable box and shove said pants inside it's electronics just to cleanse the cable palette. i would then mail the shitty-cablebox-pajama combo to cablevision so they know i never again want to see pierce brosnan perform any more acts of fighting nature to the death.
he really did kill the shit out of nature though, seriously i may just cry....CRY TO THE DEATH! starring pierce brosnan.'
xofrnk
'it is 4 am eastern standard time and i just finished watching the cinematic adventure, dante's peak, on cable. not shitty basic cable mind you, but real ass, pay extra money, premium channel, beamed down from the heavens type cable. aaaand well i gotta say, i feel violated... i feel like maybe i should shit my pajama pants, open up my cable box and shove said pants inside it's electronics just to cleanse the cable palette. i would then mail the shitty-cablebox-pajama combo to cablevision so they know i never again want to see pierce brosnan perform any more acts of fighting nature to the death.
he really did kill the shit out of nature though, seriously i may just cry....CRY TO THE DEATH! starring pierce brosnan.'
xofrnk
3.19.13
just a couple of fuck offs..
ok so i've been meaning to tell a couple of people to fuck off for a while now but i just haven't had the time so if you don't mind i'd like to take this opportunity if i may...
dear itunes,
your newest update can go fuck itself. this shit is the opposite of convenience. i don't want to have to click in and out of my music library, your virtual store, and my ipod. i wanna click, drag, and dump like a fucking human being free from arbitrary restrictions. stop fucking with your shit, cause it's fucking with mine.
sincerely, frnk
dear optimum cable,
your new channel guide is unimproved. i don't want to be magically transported to jay-z's hottest new club when i'm checking what time american pickers comes on. i want my channel guide designed by geriatric people. i want that shit soaked in pastels, plain as fuck, and in huge print. tell me what time and what show is on and that's fucking it. whichever parson's undergrad designed this new 'look' for you is a dickhead. stop fucking with your shit.
sincerely, frnk
dear nj,
dude what the fuck? do you have any idea how many times i stood up for you whenever anyone ever talked shit and this is how you repay me? it's fucking spring tomorrow for christ sakes and you're still fucking snowing!?! this shit has got to stop, like right now cause i'm getting royally pissed. i've been sick 84 times this winter and i've fucking had it. i may never recover. get your god damn shit together please before california starts thinking they have the upper hand.
xofrnk
dear itunes,
your newest update can go fuck itself. this shit is the opposite of convenience. i don't want to have to click in and out of my music library, your virtual store, and my ipod. i wanna click, drag, and dump like a fucking human being free from arbitrary restrictions. stop fucking with your shit, cause it's fucking with mine.
sincerely, frnk
dear optimum cable,
your new channel guide is unimproved. i don't want to be magically transported to jay-z's hottest new club when i'm checking what time american pickers comes on. i want my channel guide designed by geriatric people. i want that shit soaked in pastels, plain as fuck, and in huge print. tell me what time and what show is on and that's fucking it. whichever parson's undergrad designed this new 'look' for you is a dickhead. stop fucking with your shit.
sincerely, frnk
dear nj,
dude what the fuck? do you have any idea how many times i stood up for you whenever anyone ever talked shit and this is how you repay me? it's fucking spring tomorrow for christ sakes and you're still fucking snowing!?! this shit has got to stop, like right now cause i'm getting royally pissed. i've been sick 84 times this winter and i've fucking had it. i may never recover. get your god damn shit together please before california starts thinking they have the upper hand.
xofrnk
3.14.13
'we all must do something that scares us to death...otherwise what the fuck is the point?'
doom ym tif ot decrof era sdrow eseht.
srorrim eseht fo kcis os mi.
dednuorrus syawla tey detalosi ylsuolucitem.
elbuort otni em teg tnow taht yas ot gnihton evah i.
tug eht ot hcnup a si tsorf ruoy.
snroht ni derevoc era syad eseht.
seye ym gnipacse fo trohs llaf sraet ym.
yrt ew tub.
liaf ew dna.
erom emos yrt ew os.
fo edam si emit tahw ees llahs ew rehtegot dna.
-2013, frnkiero.
srorrim eseht fo kcis os mi.
dednuorrus syawla tey detalosi ylsuolucitem.
elbuort otni em teg tnow taht yas ot gnihton evah i.
tug eht ot hcnup a si tsorf ruoy.
snroht ni derevoc era syad eseht.
seye ym gnipacse fo trohs llaf sraet ym.
yrt ew tub.
liaf ew dna.
erom emos yrt ew os.
fo edam si emit tahw ees llahs ew rehtegot dna.
-2013, frnkiero.
3.11.13
'club 27 has reached capacity'
your silence is weighted.
poured on thick and antiquated.
a lethargic bonfire.a mixed bag of emotional six flags.meeting with a muffled yawn.
it's time ____
to be_________
a grownup_________________________
or find your own path to heaven.
either way, if you are really lucky only a handful of souls will actually notice that you are gone.
i don't wanna fuck this up i don't wanna fuck this up i don't wanna fuck this up i don't wanna fuck this up i don't wanna fuck this up i don't wanna fuck this up i dont wannfuck thisup i dont wannfuckthis up idontwnnafuck this up
...ah man, and just when i was getting so good at fucking everything up too.
lithium carbonate.
-2013, frnkiero.
poured on thick and antiquated.
a lethargic bonfire.a mixed bag of emotional six flags.meeting with a muffled yawn.
it's time ____
to be_________
a grownup_________________________
or find your own path to heaven.
either way, if you are really lucky only a handful of souls will actually notice that you are gone.
i don't wanna fuck this up i don't wanna fuck this up i don't wanna fuck this up i don't wanna fuck this up i don't wanna fuck this up i don't wanna fuck this up i dont wannfuck thisup i dont wannfuckthis up idontwnnafuck this up
...ah man, and just when i was getting so good at fucking everything up too.
lithium carbonate.
-2013, frnkiero.
3.10.13
'unload, reload, repeat.'
this city is noise.
cause and effect found dead. strangled and bound...it's bound to be true.
stars lie face down, drunk and gay. forced to smile,
forced to shine by the beauty they have witnessed.
truly fulfilled and unruly still.
i am facing my demons...i am the face of her's.
round and red, i've escaped from death, life's instructions burned and unread.
we are now and forever will be unaware of what has to come next.
pale visions of future's past lead the way in last season's lead boots.
i fawn over your wit. i am butter in your mitts. and still i long for everything.
feel free to pity me...they always do. (i make a good lost cause and an easy target.)
forget what you've learned for these woods, once hollow and bare, are now full to the brim with villains.
...ah, but they don't stand a chance do they? (nor do any of us for that matter.)
it's a slippery slope, a losing battle, when you're up against such a sweetly sly smile.
a tender embrace.
a glance in the right direction.
an accented compliment.
you wreck me you scoundrel you...and for that i am forever indebted.
-2013, frnkiero.
cause and effect found dead. strangled and bound...it's bound to be true.
stars lie face down, drunk and gay. forced to smile,
forced to shine by the beauty they have witnessed.
truly fulfilled and unruly still.
i am facing my demons...i am the face of her's.
round and red, i've escaped from death, life's instructions burned and unread.
we are now and forever will be unaware of what has to come next.
pale visions of future's past lead the way in last season's lead boots.
i fawn over your wit. i am butter in your mitts. and still i long for everything.
feel free to pity me...they always do. (i make a good lost cause and an easy target.)
forget what you've learned for these woods, once hollow and bare, are now full to the brim with villains.
...ah, but they don't stand a chance do they? (nor do any of us for that matter.)
it's a slippery slope, a losing battle, when you're up against such a sweetly sly smile.
a tender embrace.
a glance in the right direction.
an accented compliment.
you wreck me you scoundrel you...and for that i am forever indebted.
-2013, frnkiero.
3.4.13
'peppers takes los angeles.'
sgt. peppers.
once upon a tour, in a van far far away..well los angeles california to be less vague.. my band finished playing show and afterwards my wife and i had the urge to meet up with some friends at a popular booze hole. it just so happens earlier that week jamia and i had acquired a new k9 edition to our family, an all white 4lb chihuahua puppy named sgt. peppers. peppers had been acting strange that day so we didn't want to leave her at the hotel all alone for fear that she might a: freak out and yip our sorry asses out onto the street, b: die, c: rack up our hotel bill by ordering room service and porno, d: c, a, and then b. so we decided to bring her out on the town with us...i think i may have said 'eh c'mon, it's la...every other douche has a puppy in their pocket. it might help us fit in.' or something to that effect. anyway, i wrapped that little bitch in my hoodie and we proceeded to the -'name withheld'- to meet a few friends for a slice of pizza and some drinks. we were stopped at the front door by security and told their policy was no animals inside, which made total sense to me but just as we were turning away the owner happened to walk by and said that if i promised to keep her wrapped in my shirt and didn't let her roam free to piss all over the joint, he'd let it slide. 'no worries, we wont stay that long, and i promise no shenanigans sir.' was my response...and i had every intention on living up to that statement, however having an irresistibly cute and cuddly companion wrapped in your shirt tends to bring out the worstest, and most annoying of drunkards...more often than not, female drunkards(or drunkardesses) for some reason. and so within minutes of our arrival at a table one sloppy patron in particular sloshed her way over to us and slurred out the most eloquent 'urh ma gewrd, luck at thut puppay!' i had ever heard. dumb-fuck questions incessantly followed. her words splattered our ears and table with a vodkaredbullsaliva mist like she was sprinkling some sort of hobo fairy dust on us. oh jesus christ, bruce willis, michael jordan please make it stop! the friends we had come to visit saw their chance to escape the assault and skedaddled, leaving poor jamia, peppers, and i facing certain death. i thought maybe if i killed my wife and then myself right in front of this booze beast we might have a chance to end this 'conversation' and save the dog. but alas, i had no death utensils hidden on my person. our only hope would be if peppers could somehow rise to the occasion and eat this woman hole. at that very instant i felt peppers start to shiver, and deep down i thought to myself 'yes! this is it, attack!' and as if i had written it into the script our captor screeched, 'ken i howld it?' 'YES! absolutely!' i said shoving the quivering time bomb into her body glittered arms.
*now remember, i said earlier, peppers hadn't been acting right all day. maybe even the night before for that matter. she was tense. kinda unhappy. almost seemed like she was worried about something...ok, enough, back to our story.
so sloppy sally is hugging peppers, talking inebriated baby talk, and trying really hard to kiss my poor puppy on her tiny puppy lips. seriously, like desperately trying to make out with her. when all of a sudden my dog...maybe because she finally accepted los angeles, maybe because she realized she liked kissing drunk girls, or maybe because the alcohol content of this women's breath was so incredibly strong that it got her a little tiny puppy buzz...whatever the case, at that moment peppers just...calmed down. and with that calm came close to a liter of the most tremendous puppy diarrhea i have ever been witness to.
i mean this shit (literally) shot down that ladies arms, into her dress, and onto her shoes with a warm stench that finally made her stop talking. it was comedic ballet.
i carefully retrieved our dog, who miraculously stayed pure white through the whole ordeal, and my wife and i ran out of there hanna barberra style. our hero, peppers, has held a special place in our hearts ever since.
the end.
moral of the story: don't drunkenly fuck with the ieros...or you will get shit shoes.
xofrnk.
*now remember, i said earlier, peppers hadn't been acting right all day. maybe even the night before for that matter. she was tense. kinda unhappy. almost seemed like she was worried about something...ok, enough, back to our story.
so sloppy sally is hugging peppers, talking inebriated baby talk, and trying really hard to kiss my poor puppy on her tiny puppy lips. seriously, like desperately trying to make out with her. when all of a sudden my dog...maybe because she finally accepted los angeles, maybe because she realized she liked kissing drunk girls, or maybe because the alcohol content of this women's breath was so incredibly strong that it got her a little tiny puppy buzz...whatever the case, at that moment peppers just...calmed down. and with that calm came close to a liter of the most tremendous puppy diarrhea i have ever been witness to.
i mean this shit (literally) shot down that ladies arms, into her dress, and onto her shoes with a warm stench that finally made her stop talking. it was comedic ballet.
i carefully retrieved our dog, who miraculously stayed pure white through the whole ordeal, and my wife and i ran out of there hanna barberra style. our hero, peppers, has held a special place in our hearts ever since.
the end.
moral of the story: don't drunkenly fuck with the ieros...or you will get shit shoes.
xofrnk.
2.19.13
'we are not so different, you and i...'
um, excuse me but wtf pathmark?
in high school one of the few jobs i, frnkiero, landed and wasn't fired from was a cashier at the corporate supermarket, pathmark. this job fucking sucked.
the pay was shit, dealing with the customers was shit, your back felt like shit from standing on their shitty linoleum floor for hours, and you smelled like shit after work for some reason. actually to this day i dislike going food shopping, especially at a pathmark, because of the strange smell that i can't pin point other than to say 'ugh, it smells like a shitty supermarket in this shitty supermarket'. and just so you know that odor will latch on to you for the rest of the day, like you got your leg humped by some sort of food skunk. oh, did i mention there was an underground parking garage at my pathmark where every month or so an elderly customer got beat up and raped? yea, are you getting that this job really sucked?
**wait! side note: wanna know exactly why being a supermarket cashier can eat my fuck? because for some reason, and don't ask me why, but the fattest of women will only pay for their groceries with soaking wet dollar bills they keep hidden inside their convection oven bras, and strange men with eleven fingers will undoubtedly hand you their money by tucking it in between that skinny extra digit and their other whack ass pinky. if you've ever worked as a supermarket cashier you know i am telling the truth. this is an unwritten law of the trade and you will join me in the proclamation, 'fuck you supermarket weirdos!'.**
ok, so back to the point of my rant. i was in no way a model employee, i know this. i hated the job and i'm sure it showed, as i do not hate things subtly. however, the one thing i had going for me, and probably the only reason i wasn't ever fired, i was a fast as fuck grocery scanner and bagger. seriously, my item percentage was off the goddamn charts, and no one in the store could even come close to matching it. i remember at every employee meeting the boss would sit us down and talk about cashier performance and the 'pathmark's club 365', how it related to your scanned item percentage. (because the quicker you scan and bag, the more people come through the lines, and the more money they make blah-itty$blah-itty$blah$blah$ make sense(cents)? ok, good.) anyway, if you were fast enough to get into 'club 365' that meant you were a badass creme de la creme scanner, and you received a miniature raise and a nifty gold colored name tag to go with your new status....but for some reason no matter what my percentage, i never made it in to 'club 365'.
flash forward 16 years later: earlier today while cleaning out some old boxes at my in-laws house, my wife and i stumbled upon a few relics of her teenage years...care to guess what was among these long lost keepsakes? my wife's pathmark name tag...'no way, in high school you worked at a pathmark too?' i said, and that's when i saw it.
jamia's old name tag just so happens to be made of a faded gold plastic...with the words 'club 365' engraved on the bottom.
W.T.F?
now listen, i love my wife with every ounce of my being. she is incredibly talented and successful at many, many, many things. the sun can go fuck itself as far as i'm concerned, the earth revolves around her. however, i know her extremely well, and deep down in the pit of my soul i know, without a shadow of a doubt, i can out grocery scan the living shit out of her any day.
so i say, what gives pathmark? where's my godamn 'club 365' promotion?
i do not forgive and i do not forget.
this.
is.
not.
over!
sincerely, frnkiero.
the pay was shit, dealing with the customers was shit, your back felt like shit from standing on their shitty linoleum floor for hours, and you smelled like shit after work for some reason. actually to this day i dislike going food shopping, especially at a pathmark, because of the strange smell that i can't pin point other than to say 'ugh, it smells like a shitty supermarket in this shitty supermarket'. and just so you know that odor will latch on to you for the rest of the day, like you got your leg humped by some sort of food skunk. oh, did i mention there was an underground parking garage at my pathmark where every month or so an elderly customer got beat up and raped? yea, are you getting that this job really sucked?
**wait! side note: wanna know exactly why being a supermarket cashier can eat my fuck? because for some reason, and don't ask me why, but the fattest of women will only pay for their groceries with soaking wet dollar bills they keep hidden inside their convection oven bras, and strange men with eleven fingers will undoubtedly hand you their money by tucking it in between that skinny extra digit and their other whack ass pinky. if you've ever worked as a supermarket cashier you know i am telling the truth. this is an unwritten law of the trade and you will join me in the proclamation, 'fuck you supermarket weirdos!'.**
ok, so back to the point of my rant. i was in no way a model employee, i know this. i hated the job and i'm sure it showed, as i do not hate things subtly. however, the one thing i had going for me, and probably the only reason i wasn't ever fired, i was a fast as fuck grocery scanner and bagger. seriously, my item percentage was off the goddamn charts, and no one in the store could even come close to matching it. i remember at every employee meeting the boss would sit us down and talk about cashier performance and the 'pathmark's club 365', how it related to your scanned item percentage. (because the quicker you scan and bag, the more people come through the lines, and the more money they make blah-itty$blah-itty$blah$blah$ make sense(cents)? ok, good.) anyway, if you were fast enough to get into 'club 365' that meant you were a badass creme de la creme scanner, and you received a miniature raise and a nifty gold colored name tag to go with your new status....but for some reason no matter what my percentage, i never made it in to 'club 365'.
flash forward 16 years later: earlier today while cleaning out some old boxes at my in-laws house, my wife and i stumbled upon a few relics of her teenage years...care to guess what was among these long lost keepsakes? my wife's pathmark name tag...'no way, in high school you worked at a pathmark too?' i said, and that's when i saw it.
jamia's old name tag just so happens to be made of a faded gold plastic...with the words 'club 365' engraved on the bottom.
W.T.F?
now listen, i love my wife with every ounce of my being. she is incredibly talented and successful at many, many, many things. the sun can go fuck itself as far as i'm concerned, the earth revolves around her. however, i know her extremely well, and deep down in the pit of my soul i know, without a shadow of a doubt, i can out grocery scan the living shit out of her any day.
so i say, what gives pathmark? where's my godamn 'club 365' promotion?
i do not forgive and i do not forget.
this.
is.
not.
over!
sincerely, frnkiero.
2.19.13
'search and create. create and destroy.'
yes, creation is difficult. heart wrenching and head splitting, bloodletting and agonizing, it's all true. but the feeling you get when you put your back, neck, and soul into something and it comes out better than you could have ever hoped or imagined it would... that feeling is immense, and it is only topped when someone who truly understands is blown away by your creation and says to you, 'wow. you made this?' and you reply, 'no. it made me.'
once you experience this super nova, you will forever be changed, and you will forever chase your next fix. and that chase eventually destroys(defines) us all.
dear creators, my heart goes out to you.
[hash(tag) music, words, art, building, painting, photography, home, family, life, love.]
-2013, frnkiero.
once you experience this super nova, you will forever be changed, and you will forever chase your next fix. and that chase eventually destroys(defines) us all.
dear creators, my heart goes out to you.
[hash(tag) music, words, art, building, painting, photography, home, family, life, love.]
-2013, frnkiero.
2.10.13
'don't believe everything you thieve.'
failing has become my mantra.
trying is way too hard to try.
when is lazy considered heroic?
if my number comes up, forget i mentioned any of this.
long live the revolutionaries.
lying in wait.
zig zag running away from their responsibilities.
-2013, frnkiero.
trying is way too hard to try.
when is lazy considered heroic?
if my number comes up, forget i mentioned any of this.
long live the revolutionaries.
lying in wait.
zig zag running away from their responsibilities.
-2013, frnkiero.
2.7.13
in the end.
dear friends on the internet,
i haven't had a chance to post anything here in a little while. i have a tendency to begin things with a freight train of excitement and then quickly abandon them with a die hard like vengeance. in this instance however, that was not the case...(but let it be noted, i would like to reserve the right to fall into my old familiar patterns whenever i feel the urge.)
recently my wife and i suffered a loss in our family. it’s a terrible thing, and we miss our loved one dearly, but we are not imbeciles. these things happen. all the time. to people all over the world. more often to the sick and the old mind you...but as they say, death is the great equalizer, and eventually it will catch up to all of us (to the best and the worst of us). But by all means knowing this fact, and even being somewhat prepared for it, doesn’t make it suck any less or scratch the itch so to speak. (the itch of course being the gut wrenching pain of loss, coming to grips with a future without that person, the regret of not over appreciating every single second you had with them while they were still here, and lets not forget the fear of your own eventual demise.)
i find i have a difficult time comforting people when death chooses to visit someone close to them. i suppose its on account of my total and utter disbelief in anything coming after this life…well anything spiritual at least (like i said i'm not an imbecile, i believe in decomposition). i'm referring to the frilly shit…y'know brightly lit tunnels, pearly white gates, right hand of the father, come back as a beautiful butterfly with a harem of 1000 busty virgins type stuff. don't get me wrong, i’ve tried. i wanted to believe. i was sent to the parochial schools, i signed up for whatever prayer group got you out of the most amount of class…and on account of my ‘word curse’, i have been nominated to write every eulogy i never wanted to write. but what do you say to someone when you are face to grieving face and deep down in your heart of hearts you know there is nothing beyond this lovely charade.
i am not a terrible person. i would love to ease their pain with the ever popular “He’s in a better place now.” or the eloquent, “She was so lovely, that God couldn’t wait to have her all to himself.” ...but really man? fuck that. and fuck god for that matter.
we are gathered here today, sad as fuck, to say good bye, forever...and then we will have cake and coffee at someone’s house. we will follow that up with days, or weeks, or months of mourning, while rummaging through all of their belongings. inevitably, someone who supposedly loved the deceased will go against every dying wish they ever had, somehow justifying it to themselves while at the same time driving a rift between members of the surviving family. and in conclusion, the government will tax everyone involved.
people are born and eventually we die, some of course sooner than later. it’s fucking shitty, but it’s life. so i guess in abbreviated terms: life is fucking shitty…and y’know what? maybe that’s just the thing people need to hear most during these trying times...'i’ve been there. it fucking sucks. and its not gonna stop sucking until it eventually just doesn’t suck that much anymore.'
this is life. there’s no manual. no hallmark card that can make one bit of difference when the going gets shitty. but in my experience, somehow the hard times have a tendency to work out, or at least they just end…in the end.
at least we've had the times we've had. and no one, not even god can take that away from us...but then again, there's always alzheimer's.
xofrnk.
i haven't had a chance to post anything here in a little while. i have a tendency to begin things with a freight train of excitement and then quickly abandon them with a die hard like vengeance. in this instance however, that was not the case...(but let it be noted, i would like to reserve the right to fall into my old familiar patterns whenever i feel the urge.)
recently my wife and i suffered a loss in our family. it’s a terrible thing, and we miss our loved one dearly, but we are not imbeciles. these things happen. all the time. to people all over the world. more often to the sick and the old mind you...but as they say, death is the great equalizer, and eventually it will catch up to all of us (to the best and the worst of us). But by all means knowing this fact, and even being somewhat prepared for it, doesn’t make it suck any less or scratch the itch so to speak. (the itch of course being the gut wrenching pain of loss, coming to grips with a future without that person, the regret of not over appreciating every single second you had with them while they were still here, and lets not forget the fear of your own eventual demise.)
i find i have a difficult time comforting people when death chooses to visit someone close to them. i suppose its on account of my total and utter disbelief in anything coming after this life…well anything spiritual at least (like i said i'm not an imbecile, i believe in decomposition). i'm referring to the frilly shit…y'know brightly lit tunnels, pearly white gates, right hand of the father, come back as a beautiful butterfly with a harem of 1000 busty virgins type stuff. don't get me wrong, i’ve tried. i wanted to believe. i was sent to the parochial schools, i signed up for whatever prayer group got you out of the most amount of class…and on account of my ‘word curse’, i have been nominated to write every eulogy i never wanted to write. but what do you say to someone when you are face to grieving face and deep down in your heart of hearts you know there is nothing beyond this lovely charade.
i am not a terrible person. i would love to ease their pain with the ever popular “He’s in a better place now.” or the eloquent, “She was so lovely, that God couldn’t wait to have her all to himself.” ...but really man? fuck that. and fuck god for that matter.
we are gathered here today, sad as fuck, to say good bye, forever...and then we will have cake and coffee at someone’s house. we will follow that up with days, or weeks, or months of mourning, while rummaging through all of their belongings. inevitably, someone who supposedly loved the deceased will go against every dying wish they ever had, somehow justifying it to themselves while at the same time driving a rift between members of the surviving family. and in conclusion, the government will tax everyone involved.
people are born and eventually we die, some of course sooner than later. it’s fucking shitty, but it’s life. so i guess in abbreviated terms: life is fucking shitty…and y’know what? maybe that’s just the thing people need to hear most during these trying times...'i’ve been there. it fucking sucks. and its not gonna stop sucking until it eventually just doesn’t suck that much anymore.'
this is life. there’s no manual. no hallmark card that can make one bit of difference when the going gets shitty. but in my experience, somehow the hard times have a tendency to work out, or at least they just end…in the end.
at least we've had the times we've had. and no one, not even god can take that away from us...but then again, there's always alzheimer's.
xofrnk.
2.2.13
'shit's bananas when you're disinterested.'
mein kompfy sweatpants and your old sweater met their match today. they danced through our conversation, and fought the whole time i ate pancakes off the floor.
the three of us thought of you when i bit my lip, denounced god, went blind, and even when i typed this meaningless drab until six in the morning.
i think they’re going to be good(meaningless)friends.
not the kind that are nice to each others' faces and then talk shit the moment the other has left the room.
more like the kind that meet by fucking the same mutual friend a week apart, because they are young and
carefree and have tons in common like the pretty people on t.v. or the bullshit phonies in the bar down the
street(what street? any street, fucking pick one)...not cause they are roach infested whores or anything.
they look so happy together.
great things are going to come of this i promise.
when you come home i’ll show you. (if i can only get these hideous stains out).
we’ll laugh till our noses bleed, the windows shatter, and our hearts fall out onto the floor.
you are mine my darling...
and the world...
yes, the world shall be ours.
-2013, frnkiero.
the three of us thought of you when i bit my lip, denounced god, went blind, and even when i typed this meaningless drab until six in the morning.
i think they’re going to be good(meaningless)friends.
not the kind that are nice to each others' faces and then talk shit the moment the other has left the room.
more like the kind that meet by fucking the same mutual friend a week apart, because they are young and
carefree and have tons in common like the pretty people on t.v. or the bullshit phonies in the bar down the
street(what street? any street, fucking pick one)...not cause they are roach infested whores or anything.
they look so happy together.
great things are going to come of this i promise.
when you come home i’ll show you. (if i can only get these hideous stains out).
we’ll laugh till our noses bleed, the windows shatter, and our hearts fall out onto the floor.
you are mine my darling...
and the world...
yes, the world shall be ours.
-2013, frnkiero.
1.29.13
'The order of things...'
Once upon a time, in a place long but forgotten, there resided a town surrounded on all sides by a great forest. The town was populated with all different types of people, as towns sometimes are. And the forest was inhabited by all different types of animals, as forests sometimes are. The townspeople and the animals led separate but connected lives, and all lived in harmony. Until one day…
A middle-aged man from the town was out in the woods gathering food for his family and happened upon a large grizzly bear. ‘Hello.’ the man said, and asked the bear if he knew a shortcut back to town, as it was getting cold these days and dark was quickly approaching. The bear, feeling the cold as well and sensing the man’s fatigue, quickly attacked and messily devoured the man.
That night the man’s family stayed up all night waiting for him to come home. Growing more anxious and afraid with every passing hour, they watched the night turn into day. When he did not show up, they went to the other people of the town and together formed a search party. The townspeople scoured the surrounding woods until dawn the next morning. It was then the search party found evidence of the man’s attack and death. Frightened and sad, the people ran back to their homes and hid. The peace between the town and the forest had been shattered.
Meanwhile, news of the murder spread quickly throughout the forest, and the animals called a meeting. The old rabbit addressed the crowd, “There has been peace between our forest and the town for as long as I can remember. But now blood has been shed, and I can only imagine what the people might do to avenge one of their own.”
“The grizzly bear has done a terrible thing. He offended the town and put us all at risk.” Said the wolf. “But don’t be afraid…I know just what to do. Leave it to the wolves to fix everything.”
The animals all agreed to let the wolf pack handle the situation, desperately hoping that he could somehow restore peace and make things right in their world once again.
As night settled on the land, the wolf pack snuck through the woods and into the cave where the grizzly bear was sleeping. Quietly the wolves surrounded him, and before the bear awoke, the wolves attacked and killed him. The pack ate until they were full, and brought what was left of the bear to the edge of the forest for the townspeople to find.
“Let this offering be penance to the people of the town. May the grizzly’s death quell their anger and fear, and his meat fill their bellies.” Said the wolf. The pack decided to hide there in the bushes to make sure the townspeople received their offering.
The next morning the townspeople awoke to find the bloody carcass of the grizzly spread across the entrance of their town. Screams filled the air. “It’s a warning!” yelled one townsperson. “What kind of beast could do this to a grizzly bear? We don’t stand a chance!” screamed another. The leaders of the town decided, in order to keep the people calm and everyone safe, they should all gather together in the church until they could come up with a plan. Overhearing the people’s commotion, the wolf came up with a new plan of his own to bring order to their world.
Under cover of darkness the wolf pack snuck through the forest, into the town, and without a sound they surrounded the church where all of the townspeople had gathered. When the wolves were sure everyone inside was fast asleep, they leapt through the windows of the church and killed everyone inside.
In the following days word of what the wolves had done traveled through the forest. Upon hearing this, the old rabbit went to the wolf’s den to confront him. “I thought you were going to restore peace! You assured us you knew exactly what to do, and yet all you have brought upon us is more murder! Why would you do this?” asked the rabbit.
Calmly, the wolf replied, “…Because, I am a wolf.” And without hesitation he devoured the rabbit.
The end.
-2013, frnkiero.
A middle-aged man from the town was out in the woods gathering food for his family and happened upon a large grizzly bear. ‘Hello.’ the man said, and asked the bear if he knew a shortcut back to town, as it was getting cold these days and dark was quickly approaching. The bear, feeling the cold as well and sensing the man’s fatigue, quickly attacked and messily devoured the man.
That night the man’s family stayed up all night waiting for him to come home. Growing more anxious and afraid with every passing hour, they watched the night turn into day. When he did not show up, they went to the other people of the town and together formed a search party. The townspeople scoured the surrounding woods until dawn the next morning. It was then the search party found evidence of the man’s attack and death. Frightened and sad, the people ran back to their homes and hid. The peace between the town and the forest had been shattered.
Meanwhile, news of the murder spread quickly throughout the forest, and the animals called a meeting. The old rabbit addressed the crowd, “There has been peace between our forest and the town for as long as I can remember. But now blood has been shed, and I can only imagine what the people might do to avenge one of their own.”
“The grizzly bear has done a terrible thing. He offended the town and put us all at risk.” Said the wolf. “But don’t be afraid…I know just what to do. Leave it to the wolves to fix everything.”
The animals all agreed to let the wolf pack handle the situation, desperately hoping that he could somehow restore peace and make things right in their world once again.
As night settled on the land, the wolf pack snuck through the woods and into the cave where the grizzly bear was sleeping. Quietly the wolves surrounded him, and before the bear awoke, the wolves attacked and killed him. The pack ate until they were full, and brought what was left of the bear to the edge of the forest for the townspeople to find.
“Let this offering be penance to the people of the town. May the grizzly’s death quell their anger and fear, and his meat fill their bellies.” Said the wolf. The pack decided to hide there in the bushes to make sure the townspeople received their offering.
The next morning the townspeople awoke to find the bloody carcass of the grizzly spread across the entrance of their town. Screams filled the air. “It’s a warning!” yelled one townsperson. “What kind of beast could do this to a grizzly bear? We don’t stand a chance!” screamed another. The leaders of the town decided, in order to keep the people calm and everyone safe, they should all gather together in the church until they could come up with a plan. Overhearing the people’s commotion, the wolf came up with a new plan of his own to bring order to their world.
Under cover of darkness the wolf pack snuck through the forest, into the town, and without a sound they surrounded the church where all of the townspeople had gathered. When the wolves were sure everyone inside was fast asleep, they leapt through the windows of the church and killed everyone inside.
In the following days word of what the wolves had done traveled through the forest. Upon hearing this, the old rabbit went to the wolf’s den to confront him. “I thought you were going to restore peace! You assured us you knew exactly what to do, and yet all you have brought upon us is more murder! Why would you do this?” asked the rabbit.
Calmly, the wolf replied, “…Because, I am a wolf.” And without hesitation he devoured the rabbit.
The end.
-2013, frnkiero.
1.25.13
'leave me (a)B(c,d)E.'
at long last maybe the time has finally come for yours truly to take control of the uncontrollable.
to predict the inevitable.
to accept or expect, rather, the unexpected....
ha. no seriously, fuck that.
a life infested with rats and the traps are hungry. a sea of life rafts, but the sharks are circling. and they're desperately trying to put in their drink order before last call.
reasons not rules.
fight for your right to parlay.
if seeing is believing, ive been legally blind since 1987. but i still cant dance (and i cant sing even though i enjoy showing off my lack of talent to elevator music and commercials on the home and garden network).
so if B is for bed rest, and beestings, and boy dogs who cant keep their dick's in their fur.
and C is for shut the fuCkup before you over stay your fuCking welCome.
then i guess i'll B C-ing you next semester, because im Addicted to my Depression,
fuckers.
-2013, frnkiero.
to predict the inevitable.
to accept or expect, rather, the unexpected....
ha. no seriously, fuck that.
a life infested with rats and the traps are hungry. a sea of life rafts, but the sharks are circling. and they're desperately trying to put in their drink order before last call.
reasons not rules.
fight for your right to parlay.
if seeing is believing, ive been legally blind since 1987. but i still cant dance (and i cant sing even though i enjoy showing off my lack of talent to elevator music and commercials on the home and garden network).
so if B is for bed rest, and beestings, and boy dogs who cant keep their dick's in their fur.
and C is for shut the fuCkup before you over stay your fuCking welCome.
then i guess i'll B C-ing you next semester, because im Addicted to my Depression,
fuckers.
-2013, frnkiero.
1.24.13
'spittin off the dock of the bay, wastin time.'
whiskey filled serenades.
sweet, distilled, sugary defeat.
your breath smells like you’re disappointed in me again.
li(v)e your life away, stagnant and stale.
my soul wanders and it troubles me still.
sleepwalking my days into weeks and then some.
unaware of where the truth ends and my li(f)e begins.
i’ll be just fine my dear.
let my wrists and i figure this one out on our own.
i’m gonna get some sleep tonight, even if it kills me.
-2013 frnkiero.
sweet, distilled, sugary defeat.
your breath smells like you’re disappointed in me again.
li(v)e your life away, stagnant and stale.
my soul wanders and it troubles me still.
sleepwalking my days into weeks and then some.
unaware of where the truth ends and my li(f)e begins.
i’ll be just fine my dear.
let my wrists and i figure this one out on our own.
i’m gonna get some sleep tonight, even if it kills me.
-2013 frnkiero.
1.20.13
music with friends...
to whom it may concern,
my friends and i decided it would be fun to play some music in may. so on sunday the 19th LeATHERMOUTH is going to play the surf and skate festival in freehold nj. i have a feeling that's gonna be a busy weekend. damn, i gotta redo that LM site...ugh i'll put it on my list.
i got to see some great music this weekend. the 'two for the road' featuring matt and james tour hit brooklyn on friday, fucking incredible. i felt like a kid again. y'know i can't remember a fucking thing i learned in college, but i will forever know every word to reggie and tguk songs. good friends, good music, smuggling beers in purses kinda night...you need those every once in awhile, trust me. so if it hits your town, you owe it to yourself to attend...i think they're in baltimore tonight.
then last night i got to see one of my favorite nj bands, science, play a place i'm 98.7% sure i played in high school. another stumble down memory boulevard. i wonder... am im getting more nostalgic in my old age or am i just so old my life is literally flashing before my eyes? oh well, let's see if my elderly body can hold out long enough for my crippled hands to post this letter.
until the ground swallows me whole or we see each other again, i hope your heart is full. xofrnk
my friends and i decided it would be fun to play some music in may. so on sunday the 19th LeATHERMOUTH is going to play the surf and skate festival in freehold nj. i have a feeling that's gonna be a busy weekend. damn, i gotta redo that LM site...ugh i'll put it on my list.
i got to see some great music this weekend. the 'two for the road' featuring matt and james tour hit brooklyn on friday, fucking incredible. i felt like a kid again. y'know i can't remember a fucking thing i learned in college, but i will forever know every word to reggie and tguk songs. good friends, good music, smuggling beers in purses kinda night...you need those every once in awhile, trust me. so if it hits your town, you owe it to yourself to attend...i think they're in baltimore tonight.
then last night i got to see one of my favorite nj bands, science, play a place i'm 98.7% sure i played in high school. another stumble down memory boulevard. i wonder... am im getting more nostalgic in my old age or am i just so old my life is literally flashing before my eyes? oh well, let's see if my elderly body can hold out long enough for my crippled hands to post this letter.
until the ground swallows me whole or we see each other again, i hope your heart is full. xofrnk
1.17.13
'gold is a four letter word...just like love, fuck, and shit.'
step outside into a charcoal drawing. it's a familiar place you hated as a kid, but have metastasized a new found respect for once your back started aching on the reg.
hometowns are hell, until you've actually seen hell...and a sight like that can not be unseen. but upon viewing, home will transform into a paradise, your paradise, and local haunts will become exactly that. a place in which you would be happy to linger forever, trying your damnedest to escape that tunnel of light.
people very rarely last forever. the old must be old for a reason, and the good, as they say, die young in car crashes and chic drug overdoses. probably before they have the time to realize how much bad shit you can really get away with and still be considered 'good'.
so what of the rest of us? the ones that hover and watch. witnesses. painfully mediocre. at peace with the world happening to us. not good, not bad, not old, not young...just in attendance. eh, it doesn't matter.
because you can't always get what you want, but if you try sometimes you just might find you're eligible for some sort of government assistance. or at the very least a half price app at your neighborhood greasy spoon...but its the little things people, that's what i'm getting at.
you wont realize it now, in fact you probably won't get it until its almost too late. but we all do get the wake up call. some of us lucky/unlucky bastards answer it just before the t.v. sizzles...(find someone you love, and make 'em love you damnit)...and we realize that in this world diseased with the celebration of stupidity, absurdity, and precious(paper)metal commercialism (these things, these motherfucking things, we'll drown in things!) the only 'thing' that really matters is an honest smile from someone who truly gives a shit about you totally, completely, and unconditionally.
but try using that smile to buy a fifth of vodka these days.
-2013 frnkiero.
hometowns are hell, until you've actually seen hell...and a sight like that can not be unseen. but upon viewing, home will transform into a paradise, your paradise, and local haunts will become exactly that. a place in which you would be happy to linger forever, trying your damnedest to escape that tunnel of light.
people very rarely last forever. the old must be old for a reason, and the good, as they say, die young in car crashes and chic drug overdoses. probably before they have the time to realize how much bad shit you can really get away with and still be considered 'good'.
so what of the rest of us? the ones that hover and watch. witnesses. painfully mediocre. at peace with the world happening to us. not good, not bad, not old, not young...just in attendance. eh, it doesn't matter.
because you can't always get what you want, but if you try sometimes you just might find you're eligible for some sort of government assistance. or at the very least a half price app at your neighborhood greasy spoon...but its the little things people, that's what i'm getting at.
you wont realize it now, in fact you probably won't get it until its almost too late. but we all do get the wake up call. some of us lucky/unlucky bastards answer it just before the t.v. sizzles...(find someone you love, and make 'em love you damnit)...and we realize that in this world diseased with the celebration of stupidity, absurdity, and precious(paper)metal commercialism (these things, these motherfucking things, we'll drown in things!) the only 'thing' that really matters is an honest smile from someone who truly gives a shit about you totally, completely, and unconditionally.
but try using that smile to buy a fifth of vodka these days.
-2013 frnkiero.
1.15.13
it happened again...
i don't know why everyone that visits my humble abode and uses my toaster oven to reheat old pizza feels they are above cleaning out their fallen cheese from the bottom of said oven. it must be something about my twitchy face or my jovial demeanor that says 'heh-hey i like to scrub cheese, so leave 'em where they lay!", or possibly there's a sign above the kitchen entrance that i've never seen before which reads 'all who enter, fear not for frnk shall clean up your unwanted burnt droppings from the depths of the oven dungeon." (when i am done writing this dribble i will check for this sign, but i'm pretty sure it does not exist.)
it's not just guests mind you. even the woman i love, the mother of my children, who lives here at the scene of so many pizza crimes has appointed me, cheese maid. she of course finds this truly hilarious, ending each conversation we've had about it with the cutest most enraging little laugh. i have decided that if god forbid she must leave this earth before me, i will have no choice but to exact my revenge on her by engraving her tombstone with the following:
"Here lies Jamia Iero: Loving wife and mother of 3, severely missed. She was an angel we were lucky enough to have walk among us... an angel who repeatedly refused to clean up her fucking pizza cheese from the bottom of the goddamn toaster oven." ...then we will see who's laughing. xofrnk
p.s. there's no sign, i just checked.
it's not just guests mind you. even the woman i love, the mother of my children, who lives here at the scene of so many pizza crimes has appointed me, cheese maid. she of course finds this truly hilarious, ending each conversation we've had about it with the cutest most enraging little laugh. i have decided that if god forbid she must leave this earth before me, i will have no choice but to exact my revenge on her by engraving her tombstone with the following:
"Here lies Jamia Iero: Loving wife and mother of 3, severely missed. She was an angel we were lucky enough to have walk among us... an angel who repeatedly refused to clean up her fucking pizza cheese from the bottom of the goddamn toaster oven." ...then we will see who's laughing. xofrnk
p.s. there's no sign, i just checked.
1.14.13
'from my head to my middle finger, i really think i like you.'
i'm a little coffee pot short, stout, and burnt beyond recognition. sour to the taste and an and, and an and, and an and, and the end...
what a dark mess of additives we've become.
look through my caffeinated eyes my love. i can see the sun in all its ultra violet glory. it beckons me to put off a life filled with procrastination... at least until we have the time to waste.
but all i wanted for xmas was a purpose, or maybe to float 5 lines deep.
(4.3.2.)
one time i felt like i belonged, but that's neither here nor there.
i can ride for miles and miles and miles and sleep for only minutes. no control but not exactly a riot either.
(fuck, you’re such a riot.)
healing powers beyond my wildest dreams, come from behind those lips. i am the dinosaur proudly soaring towards extinction. so smoke 'em if you got 'em kids... cause joe camel needs the pocket cash. or just read 'em and weep cause my royal flush comes with a love note. i bleed spades, you draw horses...... we all go fish for compliments.
may the lord strike down our penniless heroes, for if not we must take matters into our own hands.
and everything will be new again when we open our eyes for the very first time.
so i'll pick you up at 7 and we'll have a real shitty time, but at least we'll have a time. i'd love you to hate my guts if they weren’t already covered in these damned ulcers, ulcers only a mother could love.
so for now… peace, love, and misdemeanors. because i plan on being out of step for a while dear.
-2013 frnkiero.
what a dark mess of additives we've become.
look through my caffeinated eyes my love. i can see the sun in all its ultra violet glory. it beckons me to put off a life filled with procrastination... at least until we have the time to waste.
but all i wanted for xmas was a purpose, or maybe to float 5 lines deep.
(4.3.2.)
one time i felt like i belonged, but that's neither here nor there.
i can ride for miles and miles and miles and sleep for only minutes. no control but not exactly a riot either.
(fuck, you’re such a riot.)
healing powers beyond my wildest dreams, come from behind those lips. i am the dinosaur proudly soaring towards extinction. so smoke 'em if you got 'em kids... cause joe camel needs the pocket cash. or just read 'em and weep cause my royal flush comes with a love note. i bleed spades, you draw horses...... we all go fish for compliments.
may the lord strike down our penniless heroes, for if not we must take matters into our own hands.
and everything will be new again when we open our eyes for the very first time.
so i'll pick you up at 7 and we'll have a real shitty time, but at least we'll have a time. i'd love you to hate my guts if they weren’t already covered in these damned ulcers, ulcers only a mother could love.
so for now… peace, love, and misdemeanors. because i plan on being out of step for a while dear.
-2013 frnkiero.
1.13.13
the times they is a changin'...
hi, it is the 13th day of the two thousand and thirteenth year and to celebrate i made a fucking website.
ive thought about doing this for awhile now, i even mentioned it in a twit once...but then i kept remembering how much i loathe technology...67% because i have a hard time understanding it, and 89% because i think people use it for the worst things imaginable. Not that my website has anything good to offer the world in any way, shape, or megabyte form. i guess what im trying to say is that my 2013 new year's resolution is to give up/in. i would like to officially plunge myself deep into the dark steaming fat rolls of the internet. i frnkiero am officially part of the problem....and the pleasure is all mine.
so please feel free to visit from time to time... read my ramblings, peruse my pictures, and deafen yourself on my noise. i appreciate you stopping by.
sincerely, your host xofrnk
ive thought about doing this for awhile now, i even mentioned it in a twit once...but then i kept remembering how much i loathe technology...67% because i have a hard time understanding it, and 89% because i think people use it for the worst things imaginable. Not that my website has anything good to offer the world in any way, shape, or megabyte form. i guess what im trying to say is that my 2013 new year's resolution is to give up/in. i would like to officially plunge myself deep into the dark steaming fat rolls of the internet. i frnkiero am officially part of the problem....and the pleasure is all mine.
so please feel free to visit from time to time... read my ramblings, peruse my pictures, and deafen yourself on my noise. i appreciate you stopping by.
sincerely, your host xofrnk
1.13.13
NOISE I MAKE
Ok so for those of you that don't already know, i made a soundcloud account about a month or so ago. i had made a comment on twitter about how much i hate xmas music and ended up getting a ton of slack about it (weird how many people love all things xmas, and hate all things humbug)... so naturally i thought it would be a great idea to take that one step further and write a song called xmas sux and post it on the interweb for all the whos in whoville to enjoy. i did it on logic in about 15 min and it made more people angry, which in turn made me laugh so.....basically 1+3+2 carry the 4 = success!
Anyway, now to commemorate the launching of this here webbersnite i've decided to post another song. a few months ago i went into my good friend's studio, north end, and together we stayed up late, had some drinks, and made some music. one of the things that survived that session was a cover of 'Be My Baby', originally written by Phil Spector, Jeff Barry, and Ellie Greenwich and made famous by the Ronettes in 1963. i played all the noises and my friend eddie recorded them. 'Be My Baby' was once one of the greatest songs ever made... please click on my teeth to be magically teleported to my soundcloud page, where you can listen to how i have destroyed it. xofrnk
Anyway, now to commemorate the launching of this here webbersnite i've decided to post another song. a few months ago i went into my good friend's studio, north end, and together we stayed up late, had some drinks, and made some music. one of the things that survived that session was a cover of 'Be My Baby', originally written by Phil Spector, Jeff Barry, and Ellie Greenwich and made famous by the Ronettes in 1963. i played all the noises and my friend eddie recorded them. 'Be My Baby' was once one of the greatest songs ever made... please click on my teeth to be magically teleported to my soundcloud page, where you can listen to how i have destroyed it. xofrnk