Dre and Me

Hi! My name is Frank, and I speak Frankly!

Do you think all Franks are frank? Maybe some of them are just Frankish. I feel like writing a haiku or, well, a senryu. There are two poems in the works but … Whatever.

Dre saw the chair in my room and said, “What the hell! Where did this come from?”

“The garbage.”

“Ewwww! Why!” 

” I took it apart and wiped it down.”

“Ok!?” And as he exits, says, “Do you!”

I will do me. Thank you very much! … But not in that way!

A few years back, we were going for a walk, and somebody abandoned a metal table with three chairs in the stairway. I had to work really hard to convince Dre to help me bring it home. “Mom! Why do you want that! It’s rusty.”

“I can sand and refinish it.”

“Where are we gonna put it?”

“Don’t worry about that. Just help me carry it home.” 

I liked it because it reminded me of what you’d see outside a shop in the West Indies where people are limin’.

🎶 Woman. You know you woman. You got to be a woman. I got the feeling of love. When you, you’re talking to me, you see right through me. I got the feeling of love. She’s a woman. You know what I mean. You better listen. Listen to me. She’s gonna set you free, yeah, yeah yeah. 🎶

Woman – Wolfmother


We went to the exercise park, where Dre picked up a few pieces of litter – I didn’t have gloves, so I wasn’t going to touch anything. He didn’t have gloves either, but it didn’t bother him. Let’s hope he doesn’t get some flesh-eating disease and end up dead. Or maybe … let’s do. Actually no! Let’s not cause playing handball alone sucks!

Next time we go over there, I will bring gloves and hand sanitizer. It’s the perfect area to start the litter pick-up because people use it every day, and it’s not an overwhelming space. The boundaries are clear! Oh, and by the way, the garbage and recycle bins are five human steps away from the litter. I don’t understand people!

While playing catch, after handball, I learned that I can no longer climb fences. PAthetic! Dre threw the ball too high, and it went over an enclosed area in the school. My goal is to climb that fence before school starts in September! I’ll keep you posted. After play, we went to the grocery store, and along with us came a few branches I found.

The last time I climbed a fence, Dee was probably a toddler. There used to be a shortcut to the grocery store. Somehow there was a massive hole in the fence, and at some point, they fixed it, seemingly overnight, and I refused to walk around! 

You can go through fences, under or/and over them, but they are not for sitting!

THE BUDDY BENCH: Also Not for Sitting

BENCH v2.0. Still defective. Only now it throws you. Injury? Mandatory! Buddy? Optional!

Some dude, wearing a heavily wrinkled white tee and blue shorts, could have been boxers. He looked like he rolled outta bed and went straight to the grocery store for chicken. We all waiting in the lobby for the elevator. Guess what floor that muthafucka pressed? I was incensed! I stared at him from the time he pressed two to when he got off the elevator. He just looked at his pack of raw chicken like, “Please God! Don’t let anything bad happen to me right now. Let me make it home in one piece to cook and enjoy my chicken.”

 Dre said he felt sorry for him cause I watched him so hard AND I had the giant stick in my hand. It was thick too – this wasn’t no little skinny branch. I think I’m gonna invest in a baseball or cricket bat and take it with me everywhere I go AND mean mugging along the way …

I don’t feel like waiting in line, BLAM!!! Right to the front/side knee or back/side head. Wherever I feel like. Oh! Look! Kids on swings. BLAM!!! BLAM!!! (Technically, I only need one swing, but it’s fun to knock children out with a bat.) “Parents! You might feel pain now but you will thank me later. Trust me!”

And from now on, arbitrary rule zero zero ten – everybody has to press their floor before the elevator door closes. Two – BLAM!!! BLAM!!!. BLAM!!! Three – BLAM!!! BLAM!!!. BLAM!!! BLAM!!! (extra hit for waiting in the lobby or just cause I feel like it – arbitrary rule zero zero twelve.) I can’t remember what zero zero eleven is so don’t ask.

No one is even gonna get the chance to get off the elevator and walk cause you should know better!

Dre called me immature! Can you believe it! This muthafucka who ain’t doing shit! Ain’t got no job. No high school diploma.

Bitch! I’ll see your immature and raise you a get the fuck outta my house! Yeehaw Yeah!


Do you remember Name That Tune? A game show from maybe the eighties. Well, today, we are going to play …


Born in Gori, Georgia, to an alcoholic shoe cobbler and a pious washerwoman who wanted her boy to become a priest (and for a period he did study theology). Both parents beat the child mercilessly (no rod was spared). An avid reader of then forbidden books – which got him kicked out of church school. Bullied by his peers due to smallpox facial scars and having one arm longer than the other.

Source: britannica.com

This should be an easy one for you! eMail responses to tyrant@gameshows.com by 11:59 pm, Wednesday, June 15, 2022, for the chance to win smallpox scar stickers and a wearable or collector version mustache.

I was flipping through the newspaper looking for the obits and comics when I just happened upon a few awful events. That reminded me of other awful events (heavy sigh). I put the paper down and went to do other things. Good night! It is supposed to be suffocatingly hot tomorrow and Tuesday. Ugh!

Sun May 29, 2022

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