tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-148744122024-02-28T04:34:04.493-08:00runninginplaceRunningInPlace fanzine was something I did in my spare time to keep myself involved in the Las Vegas hardcore/punk music scene. It lasted about 3 years (2000-2003) and 3 1/2 issues were published. At first, this blog was supposed to be an extension of that, but lately it's just been a diary of my thoughts. I now run a record label of the same name, and you can find the makeshift website in blog form around here somewhere.Bobby Frankshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09165059042189717763noreply@blogger.comBlogger25125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14874412.post-73038254039873433522009-09-20T03:19:00.000-07:002009-09-20T03:33:13.297-07:00A convincing self talking to.I've jumped right over that line in the sand, because Love conquers all fear and rationale. Call me foolish and stubborn, but please don't call me an idiot. I'd rather fuck with fire and be happy then walk away and wonder. I'm smart enough and strong enough to know just how far over that line I should cross, where to stop, and how to fight my way out if I've gone too far. Maybe it's all just a waste of time, but right now it's all I want, all I need. <br /><br />'I'm a fighter, not a quitter' That phrase will be the death of me.Bobby Frankshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09165059042189717763noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14874412.post-61552557722871732032009-01-01T06:58:00.000-08:002009-01-01T07:30:51.550-08:00Poopy on New Years.I usually keep these posts to a minimum, but I haven't typed anything on here for a good minute, so I figured I'd air some shit out. Well, not really air anything out...just type my mind a little. Sorry in advance for the shitty post. Both in my attitude, and my lack of sticking to a topic. My New Years resolution was to keep my mouth shut and smile....and I blew it before 3am. <br /><br />The past two weeks or so have been way too busy for my liking. My sister was married, then there was Christmas, and I'll talk about New Years here in a sec. I'm working 5 nights a week, with my days off spent catching up with everyone who's in town for the holidays. Sleeping 5 hours max when you do what I do for a living just isn't enough time to recharge for the next day, let alone enough to be in a halfway decent mood for things. To keep a long, pointless rant short: I'm spent. <br /><br />A certain friend who knows just what buttons to press, and when to press them is, well, pressing my fucking buttons. Making me angry enough to not be able think of clever ways to even describe what's going on, or how what he says/does effects me. He's just a condescending dick, but only towards me, and only when there's an audience to laugh about it. So much in fact, if he read this, he'd wait for the right time, like at dinner or something involving a bunch of friends, and bring it up there...But not discretely to just me, no. He'd announce to the whole crowd, just loud enough for everyone to tune in, knowing full well he's winning whatever game he thinks we're playing. You suck man. It's getting old. I'm so glad you're only around once or twice a year. See you when I see you. Thanks for pointing out the fact that I'm always on edge. Ever think it's because of you?<br /><br />New Years could of been awesome if I would of let it just happen. The entire night was spent getting ready for something. I woke up too early and couldn't get back to sleep, and I just felt like I was running late all day. I missed the countdown trying to be somewhere comfortable, only to find myself hearing fireworks and people cheering without me even realizing it. The room Taj set up for us was awesome, and I'm glad she went out of her way for it. She's one person I wish didn't live so far away, but that's another story. Apple Jack is my new drink of choice, just try it on ice with some sweet tea, you'll thank me. <br /><br />Last, but not least, I'm crushing fucking hard. It's probably a key ingredient towards my edginess. But that's top secret shit.<br /><br />This will probably be deleted soon. Soak it up. I'd totally get an F in 3rd grade English for this.Bobby Frankshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09165059042189717763noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14874412.post-52183203765454264022008-12-18T13:57:00.000-08:002008-12-18T13:59:39.995-08:00Ever So FittingTaurus <br /><br />Dec. 18th 2008<br /><br />In theory you are willing to work within the constraints of the limitations currently being placed on you. You know that following the rules is a good idea, yet it seems as if the level of control has gotten out of hand. You might feel as if you are shackled and now you want to throw off some of the restraints. But don't try too hard today or you could mess up a situation that really isn't as bad as you think.Bobby Frankshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09165059042189717763noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14874412.post-88316187284723457322008-12-08T06:16:00.000-08:002008-12-08T06:23:39.508-08:00Relationship IslandWho's <span style="font-style:italic;">not</span> on it these days? Well, me, that's who. I don't mind not being there, really, but I do mind being without my friends. A phone call, maybe a postcard would be nice.Bobby Frankshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09165059042189717763noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14874412.post-63379486010116282502008-11-17T04:10:00.000-08:002008-11-17T04:23:41.793-08:00Today Was A Fucking Joke.All 20 hours of it. <br /><br />Something happened in the time period of 9pm Saturday night and 2am Sunday morning that I'm still not even sure about. The only thing that I can imagine happened, is that I didn't meet some impossible goal or whatever standard - or leave a certain type of impression that was expected of me. It's all so confusing right now. <br /><br />48 hours of complete opposite feelings from a person. The term 'Night and Day' taken literally. <br /><br />Friday couldn't have been more perfect. Could it? <br /><br />I don't even want to write anymore.Bobby Frankshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09165059042189717763noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14874412.post-16227937759408286032008-11-09T00:10:00.000-08:002008-11-09T01:02:08.512-08:00Things and Stuffs.There's nothing like being beat at your own game. You just can't be pissed. And anything beyond just going with the flow and waiting things out is defeat. Sometimes you want to just wave the white flag and surrender, but they've got you beat, and they ain't takin' no fucking prisoners. <br /><br />I'm such a masochist. I want to create more silly scenarios just to get on your bad side...it's so wrong of me, I know. Truthfully though, I just love passion...preferably served boiling fucking hot. The faster our hearts are beating and the more I stutter, choking on all the wrong things to say while your eyes are burning through my soul, the better. It's the mental equivalent of being slapped in the face, and pushed over the kneeling bully you didn't know was right behind you, all within one motion. But I love it. I can't tell you why, or how, or what made me love this self torture...I just do. But don't get me wrong, I like the good stuff too...it's all a balance I guess.<br /><br />There's nothing wrong with speaking the truth. Given our openness, and our histories that have crossed paths more than a handful of times, we both know enough shit about the other to expect an adventure. Would you honestly expect any less from the dude who wears his wacky life experiences on his sleeve like a badge of honor? My mouth is big, a size 10W to be exact, and my foot fits in it like a perfect fitting pair of Vans. It's not the first, and hopefully not the last, time you get to help me shove it in for me. If that's not love, I don't know what is. <br /><br />I'm honestly more in love with you now than I ever have been. I'm a strange one, I know.Bobby Frankshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09165059042189717763noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14874412.post-74578435883686971922008-11-01T06:25:00.000-07:002008-11-01T07:13:32.283-07:00The Past WeekThis is going to a long, more in-depth version of the 'I'm Pushing 30' post I made a couple of weeks ago. So, if you're not really into reading a self-loathing pity party type crybaby fest, I suggest you just skip this whole thing and wait till next time. I'm sure my next post will have something to do with pizza and fun, or something like that. For everyone sticking it out, hopefully, at the very least, you'll feel a little better about yourself for not being me after you're done reading this. Who am kidding? We all hate ourselves. Ha.<br /><br />***<br /><br />Ah, 2008. The year I had it all figured out. Before the new year I bought one of those dry erase calender board things that you're supposed to plan your life to, erasing it all at the start of a new month to plan out what's coming up next - mine still has February written wrong at the top of it. Just another New Years Resolution left unresolved. Does that last sentence even make sense? Who cares, anyhow. I guess what I'm trying to say is: What started out as a year of accomplishing goals, just ended up like all the rest - a list full of lofty ideas and plans that either barely got started and were left reaching for my attention, or never even left my brain, left to rot and eventually be forgotten. Just like last year, ya know? <br /><br />I don't know where I'm getting at...actually I do know, I just don't want to go there. Not here at least. I mean, this isn't exactly a diary. I can name 5 people very close to me who are going to read this once they get an email telling them I made a new blog post. And maybe only one of those five knows me well enough not to care, or better yet, not call or write me to tell me it's okay. I know it's okay. Just let me do it. <br /><br />Can I break this up by saying that this some serious LiveJournal.com bullshit? Okay.<br /><br />Where was I? oh yeah, pity party...<br /><br />Imagine all your hopes and dreams, goals, and everything else that gets you out of bed in the morning as air in the tires of your bike. Now imagine riding your bike through that field with the bushes that have the spikey thorns in it. The one you always forget about until you're actually riding through it getting yet another flat tire. I guess you can say that I'm getting tired of patching up the tubes. <br /><br />That's pretty much all of it without going into detail. Sorry for the tease, really, I am. I just got a little shy. Maybe I should choose a new path, clear of that fucking field, right? That's where I'm at right now. Yep, pretty much.Bobby Frankshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09165059042189717763noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14874412.post-84908323942591981922008-10-30T11:36:00.000-07:002008-10-30T11:50:20.864-07:00Breakfast for Awesome Dudes (for Ashely)I'm on vacation for a week, and it's screwing up my sleep schedule pretty bad. I've been taking 3-4 hour naps every 9-12 hours or so since Sunday morning. I guess it's cool, I don't know...it is hard trying to concentrate on easy tasks like remembering why I was even going to post a blog in the first place...oh yeah! This is for Ash, mainly because I'm grossing her out via text messages, and the pictures I tried to send to her via her work email won't allow pictures of awesomeness. But yeah...here's how you make an egg and hot dog burrito:<br /><br /><a href="http://s112.photobucket.com/albums/n187/badpenny1980/?action=view¤t=cookingeggs001.jpg" target="_blank"><img src="http://i112.photobucket.com/albums/n187/badpenny1980/cookingeggs001.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket"></a><br /><br /><a href="http://s112.photobucket.com/albums/n187/badpenny1980/?action=view¤t=cookingeggs006.jpg" target="_blank"><img src="http://i112.photobucket.com/albums/n187/badpenny1980/cookingeggs006.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket"></a><br /><br /><a href="http://s112.photobucket.com/albums/n187/badpenny1980/?action=view¤t=cookingeggs010.jpg" target="_blank"><img src="http://i112.photobucket.com/albums/n187/badpenny1980/cookingeggs010.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket"></a><br /><br /><a href="http://s112.photobucket.com/albums/n187/badpenny1980/?action=view¤t=cookingeggs014.jpg" target="_blank"><img src="http://i112.photobucket.com/albums/n187/badpenny1980/cookingeggs014.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket"></a><br /><br /><a href="http://s112.photobucket.com/albums/n187/badpenny1980/?action=view¤t=cookingeggs015.jpg" target="_blank"><img src="http://i112.photobucket.com/albums/n187/badpenny1980/cookingeggs015.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket"></a><br /><br /><a href="http://s112.photobucket.com/albums/n187/badpenny1980/?action=view¤t=cookingeggs017.jpg" target="_blank"><img src="http://i112.photobucket.com/albums/n187/badpenny1980/cookingeggs017.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket"></a>Bobby Frankshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09165059042189717763noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14874412.post-9564321849062400412008-10-05T06:25:00.000-07:002008-10-05T06:43:55.786-07:00I'm pushin' 30Shit ain't how it used to be.Bobby Frankshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09165059042189717763noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14874412.post-33376035937189964572008-09-20T18:37:00.001-07:002008-09-20T18:41:07.049-07:00A Thought.You know, a crazy man once said to me, 'Bobby, of the three main qualities you look for in a woman: Them being Single, Sane, and Attractive. You're more than likely to find one with only two of them...so make your pick wisely.'<br /><br />Maybe that old man wasn't crazy after all.Bobby Frankshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09165059042189717763noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14874412.post-9737592566740531572008-09-12T04:25:00.000-07:002008-09-12T05:41:30.465-07:00Don't Even Read This.Seriously, I'm full of shit. Anyway, readers, if you're still reading, then I guess I'll pump something out for ya'll. Here it goes:<br /><br />The two most humiliating points of my life.<br /><br />Part One:<br /><br />It was New Years Eve, don't even ask me the year, sometime in the earlier part of this decade. There's a party at Caleb and Brandon's University Park apartment. Not only was I going to be amongst great friends in a night of drunken glory, but they lived a stones throw away from the UNLV parking garage, giving us a perfect view of the entire strip and it's giant fireworks show at midnight. About a week earlier, my then girlfriend of about 2 years and I got into a little tiff. Who knows what it was about really, all I know is that our tiff ended with her declaring that we needed a 'break'. <br /><br />***<br />Now, the only time I have ever taken a relationship 'break' was in highschool, I was a junior, my girl, a senior. We were literally attached at the hip, and to be honest, I wasn't that into it. My bad attitude caused a fight, and I declared 'break'! If she only knew my real intentions...See, There was this sophmore girl in my theatre class who would flirt with me constantly, and well, I liked it alot. So, my 'break' plan worked, and I was 'free at last' to do whatever, right? Of course! I was 16 years old, and I could give a shit. So yeah, shit happened, it was fun, and I got back with my girlfriend without an ounce of guilt. Not because I'm a shitty dude, but because I was a 16, and didn't know any better...anyhow, I'm getting away from the real story, I just wanted share my own personal partaking in 'break' happenings. And I totally ruined both parts of my story by doing so. I suck...anyways....back to the story<br />***<br /><br />So we're on our little 'break', right? But this didn't really change much, if any of our usual dating routines. So, of course she went with me to the party, but there's a catch. This dude she knew from wherever (online I'm guessing?) had a band, and they were playing Las Vegas on New Years Day. Turns out his band didn't have a show booked on NYE because the band planned on hitting the strip and partaking in the chaos. Cool. Turns out she invited dude to the party, sans band. Just him, some guy from Wisconsin who only knows my girl, hanging out with a group of people with bonds stronger than most families. Vibes were had. Good, bad, awkward, you name it. Verdict on the dude from my peers was he was trouble. My response, well, I took it all lightly because I factored in the fact the my girl and I were adults, that 'break' meant an entire honest, innocent break from our relationship. Turns out I was wrong.<br /><br />I honestly don't remember too much from that night. I drank myself beyond shitty due to the the whole awkwardness of the situation. A big NO NO, I know now. But I guess touring dude made a pass at my drunk girlfriend in front of my friends while I was assed out on the couch. She accepted, and proceeded to kissout with this dude despite me being a couple of feet away. <br /><br />For the longest time no one told me. I mean, the bass player to my band suddenly hated my girlfriend, but I never knew why. It wasn't till much later when our relationship actually ended that I found this shit out. And all I could do was think back to when I pulled this 'break' shit. <br /><br />Part 2<br /><br />Fast forward to about a year ago, November 2007. Different girl, similar story...kinda. <br /><br />My parents decided to renew their vows on their 30th wedding anniversary. I thought to myself, 'What a perfect time to invite my new girlfriend of 4 months to meet my family'. I mean, it was kind of a special, social event, and I could show off to my whole family the person who's made me so stoked on life lately, right? Well, sorta. See, a week or two before the whole thing happened, she decided to pick an argument about 'space' and how we were 'spending too much time together' and all that. Yep, she wanted a 'break'. By now, I hope you know, I was well aware of what that meant, but I wasn't going to show up to this event solo. Not after all the hype I made. <br />Fast forward to the night before my parents shindig...<br />I call the lady friend up to see what she's up to, and to remind her about the wedding thing and to see if she wanted to hang out that night. She's all for the wedding, but hanging out was a no-go...we're on a 'break' and all. So, to free my mind of all the bad stuff I knew was going to happen, I decided to go out to a bar with some friends to check out some bands. As soon as I walk into the bar I see her. There she is, with who I guess was the other dude, arms around each other and all that shit. It was awkward beyond belief. My heart sunk and I couldn't breathe. All I could muster out was 'so, you're still going to my parents thing with me tomorrow, right?' She agreed, and I somehow made it home without driving into a wall out of frustration. <br />The next morning I called to wake her up, and to make sure she was getting ready. Me being sure to make things on time, was more than ready and already dressed. Grown ups tend to give each other their house keys when they feel their in a comfortable enough situation in their relationship with each other...so I had a key to place. Like an idiot I decided to drive and pick her up earlier than expected. Well, scratch the idiot part, I just wanted proof...and proof is what I got. Now, I didn't make a stink out of the whole ordeal, given our relationship, and the weird shit that happened during it, like I said, I just needed proof. <br />So anyhow, we drive to the wedding, not mentioning a word to each other about the dude asleep in her bed. I have to give it to her though, she played the part perfect in front of my family, and saved my humiliation for myself. I think I actually thanked her about that after the fact. It kind of shows that she really did care for me, even if just a little. Right?<br /><br />Anyhow, moral of this story is, from my own life experiences is: If your partner needs to take a 'break', they want to see what else is out there. Maybe you're into that kind of stuff, who knows? Or maybe their request is your chance to take a 'break' also, if you know what I mean. All I know, is, well, I'm not one for 'breaks'.Bobby Frankshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09165059042189717763noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14874412.post-38327942080141424692008-09-04T04:10:00.001-07:002008-09-04T04:10:54.463-07:00I'm a stubborn asshole...sometimes anyways.Bobby Frankshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09165059042189717763noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14874412.post-84754943634790994152008-09-03T06:35:00.000-07:002008-09-03T06:43:21.015-07:00StuffRight now I'm listening to the Dissonance Radio Pod Cast from 6-06-08 featuring members of the Bad Brains. The show in itself is pretty awesome. <br />here's what they have to say about themselves:<br />DISSONANCE is a biweekly music and talk show broadcasting Tuesday nights at 10:00 on community station Radio CPR, 97.5 FM in Washington, DC. Each episode features a different guest from the DC punk community who serves as guest DJ, picking the show's playlist and answering questions. New episodes are available for free download here the following Wednesday. <br /><br />http://dissonance.libsyn.com/<br /><br />check it out, you won't be disappointed.<br /><br />******Bobby Frankshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09165059042189717763noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14874412.post-53088534442480062062008-09-03T00:31:00.000-07:002008-09-03T00:39:44.552-07:00I look bad on paper...so I understand the fear of it all. No one is perfect though, not you, not I, not Johnny Depp nor the hot chick on Everyday Italian. We've all go our ghosts; our histories. Some things make us look back and cringe. I mean, if I could go back and not do or say half of the shit I've said or done in my lifetime, then I would. But the truth is, it's all of what makes us who we are, good or bad. I accept myself for all of my shortcomings. How do you feel about yourself?Bobby Frankshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09165059042189717763noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14874412.post-81654552368525490552008-08-26T07:29:00.000-07:002008-08-26T07:42:57.568-07:00Not So SureIf you don't mind, I'm going to wine a little bit. I'm a sleepy guy right now, but I've got a bit of weight on my chest, and surprisingly, it only involves me and myself. Well, it involves others, but I'm convinced it's all just insecurity in my head. Well there, I'm done. Actually, no I'm not. I'm just trying not to blab. Let's just say I felt a little bit of jealousy this morning. To be honest, it really is the best thing to feel sometimes. Sort of a reminder of why you're in the situations you are, and just how much those situations really mean to you. As for said situation, well, it means alot more to me than I've been letting on, to myself included. The question is, well, I'm really not sure about that either.Bobby Frankshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09165059042189717763noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14874412.post-14874539409657188922008-08-18T00:41:00.000-07:002008-08-18T01:55:26.273-07:00Just So You Know (In Three Parts)<span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">1. My Genius Brain At Work:<br />Sometimes you just have climb over - or try your best to sneak around - the walls people put up around themselves. Determined, you climb, jump, sneak, dig, or pretty much force your way through...I tend to ram head first into that wall, only to end up bruised and broken. I guess it's stubbornness on my part. Definitely selfishness too. With paranoia comes panic, and you want to right wrongs that were never made in the first place.<br /><br />And, sometimes you just have to back off and let it all be.<br /><br /><br />------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------<br />2. My Patience:<br />Lately, every dream I wake up remembering seems to have the same theme: waiting.<br /><br />Haircuts, roller-coaster rides, my turn to bat, everything. I'm always in line or on deck, never actually getting my chance (don't even get me started on sex dreams). It wouldn't bother me so much if real life didn't seem the same way. Maybe I'm just being a pessimist? To quote Dan Yemin (completely out of context of what the songs written about):<br /><br /> "Tried to live the good life, I just wasn't good enough.</span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /><span style="font-family: arial;"> Tried to live the simple life, I wasn't simple enough.</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;"> Tried to live the high life, I couldn't get high enough."<br /> - Paint It Black 'Ghosts'<br />That's where I've been with myself lately.<br /><br />-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------<br />3. Engaging The Flow:<br />I'm crazy about her, and she wants to know why. She's wonderful, that's why. I feel as if our souls dance with each other above our heads when we hang out...on some deep James Redfield novel type shit. Do I even need to go on?<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;"> <br /></span></span><blockquote></blockquote><br /><br /><blockquote></blockquote>Bobby Frankshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09165059042189717763noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14874412.post-66787675268376339052008-08-05T06:32:00.000-07:002008-08-05T06:38:48.080-07:00What I've been up to.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i112.photobucket.com/albums/n187/badpenny1980/chillin.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://i112.photobucket.com/albums/n187/badpenny1980/chillin.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i112.photobucket.com/albums/n187/badpenny1980/feet.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://i112.photobucket.com/albums/n187/badpenny1980/feet.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />A lot really.Bobby Frankshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09165059042189717763noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14874412.post-4896017962702544922008-04-09T05:24:00.000-07:002008-04-09T05:33:51.576-07:00uggghhh.My mouth has gotten me in huge trouble. Always taking the joke too far is never a good idea, I know better. Saying sorry, giving a hug, or even baking some awesome cookies isn't going to be anything more than a band aid. Hopefully time will work in the healing factor. Till then, I'll be the quiet guy in the corner, not really adding much to anything. My tongue can use the rest anyways.Bobby Frankshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09165059042189717763noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14874412.post-261814084925102012008-03-12T05:23:00.000-07:002008-03-12T05:32:45.082-07:0027 yo SWMLooking for 21-35yo single female still in her 'punk' phase. Must be able to love, not just tolerate, listening to bands like Lifetime, Bouncing Souls, Minor Threat, Gorilla Biscuits, Black Flag, etc. on long car trips to fun adventures that may or may not include: Hiking, Camping, Record Shopping, Going to Shows, Thrift/Garage Sale/Swap Meet shopping, I could go on. Must enjoy partaking in recreational boozing, sometimes drugging, but never making it a normal everyday thing. Pretty much, a nice, pretty girl who will stop making me jealous of all my 'coupled' friends, who seem to be loving their lives together. Not that I don't love mine, I'd just like to love it with someone on my side, who's loving it as much as me as an equal. Are you out there? If so, please get in touch. Thanks.Bobby Frankshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09165059042189717763noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14874412.post-57197103065304904622008-03-03T02:37:00.000-08:002008-03-03T02:43:58.798-08:00Boredom Is The Reason<p></p><blockquote style="font-family: times new roman;"><p><span style="font-size:85%;">Authorities investigating death of M.I.A. singer and Avalon bar owner near Chicago</span></p> <p><span style="font-size:85%;">By Brianna Bailey</span></p> <p><span style="font-size:85%;">Updated: Friday, February 29, 2008 11:45 AM PST</span></p> <p><span style="font-size:85%;">Law enforcement authorities in suburban Chicago are investigating the death of a Costa Mesa Bar owner and singer for the punk band M.I.A. who was found with head wounds outside of a hotel near O’Hare Airport Thursday morning.</span></p> <p><span style="font-size:85%;">A woman found Michael Conley, owner of the Avalon Bar in Costa Mesa, lying in the parking lot of a hotel in Leyden Township near Melrose Park about 5:40 p.m. Thursday. Conley, who was unresponsive, was near the curb and appeared to have a head wound, said Penny Mateck, a spokeswoman for the Cook County Sheriff. The woman tried to revive him with CPR and later called 911. Conley was taken to Gottlieb Memorial Hospital in Melrose Park, and was pronounced dead about 6:25 a.m. The death is under investigation, pending autopsy results from the Cook County medical examiner’s office, Mateck said.</span></p> <p><span style="font-size:85%;">Conley had been in staying in Chicago for about 10 days to work on a building renovation project, Mateck said, and authorities are unsure why he was found at the hotel with no car, Mateck said.</span></p></blockquote><p style="font-family: times new roman;"></p><br />Shitty.<br /><br />* * *<br /><br />In other news...well, there isn't much other news. I've been bored out of my mind lately. I couldn't tell you why really. Frank joked about how unless I'm involved with something sexual, then I'm usually bored. That isn't true, really. I mean, I had a blast playing baseball last night. I think I'm just sick of drinking/going to bars/parties. I wanna just hang out on the couch and talk with friends about nothing, or everything. I'm sick of loud. I'm sick of spending money to be hungover in the morning. It's all getting on my nerves.<br /><p></p><blockquote></blockquote><br /><p></p><blockquote></blockquote>Bobby Frankshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09165059042189717763noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14874412.post-17156929779474450462008-02-24T04:07:00.000-08:002008-02-24T04:28:38.759-08:00Bake Sale's and Love/Lust.Everyone is on drugs but me. No, really. I didn't even catch a buzz tonight. I was a good boy? Considering there was about 100 or so people in my house watching bands play/eating homemade sweet treats for charity, my nerves weren't in the mood for any 'enlightenment'. Plus I was still nursing my hangover from Friday. Day drinking is still day drinking when you work a graveyard shift and wake up as the sun is setting. 'Just because it's happy hour, doesn't mean your body is ready' b/w 'Bobby is assed out at the kitchen table by 10pm' <---- My night as a 2 song 45 single (with the big hole) .<br /><br />Anyhow, where am I getting with this? Nowhere I guess. It's been a while since I've messed on this thing, and I figured I'd give it a go. Oh yeah, my direction is in my title! Duh.<br /><br />There's teeth marks on my neck. I was due. I think we both were. My brain needed it, honestly. She's lovely, always has been. I'll stop here before I start choking on my toenails.<br /><br />Which leads me to the love part. I'm pretty sure everything I've been playful about for the past year in a half is true. Out of nowhere I had to pull her aside and let her know. She didn't run away, act strange or anything. She agreed. Maybe one day? If I get lucky. She's got it, and it explains why every other girl in her place doesn't quite fit. A part of me really wishes I would of made a move that night in Sketch Center. I had my chance at redemption, and I played the gentleman. Always. Geez, I'm getting personal. I'll stop.<br /><br />Onto other things. It seems I'm going everywhere in this. Back to the Bake Sale! Fun was had and no one caused any problems. Bryan's plan came together. I'm glad I could help.<br /><br />Being vague. I hope you understand.Bobby Frankshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09165059042189717763noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14874412.post-85083095718391859102008-02-02T08:55:00.000-08:002008-02-02T09:36:15.187-08:00long nights and mixtapes...My sleep schedule has been fucked lately...I mean, it's fucked usually do to my work schedule, but I haven't been sleeping much at all really. And if I am sleeping, it's catching up on the sleep I lost. I called in to work last night and slept for 5 hours only to still be up right now, at 9am, almost 12 hours after my nap. Oh well.<br /><br />I've been super critical of my own shitty habits lately, and I could have drank a few beers and been out by now, but I've been drinking less. I could have joined the party downtown, but instead decided to just show up and get bored because everyone was buzzed and I was drinking cranberry juice. Downtown's getting boring anyways. No matter what the location, no matter how pretty the people are inside, a bar is a fucking bar. I'd much rather hang out in an empty dive than stand shoulder to shoulder in a crowded over-hyped place any day. Too bad a lot of my friends don't feel the same way. Oh well.<br /><br />* * *<br /><br />So yeah, I've been chillin' at home half the morning listening to this awesome series of hip hop mixes made by year from 1979-1996 by a group of DJ's from Brooklyn who call themselves 'The Rub' (www.itstherub.com). I downloaded 79-89 a couple of weeks ago, and remembered to download the 90-93 tonight. I'm halfway through 1990, and I've got 91-93 to go, '94 comes out next week and so on. <br /><br />I've come home from work every morning just sitting alone in my kitchen with these mixes blasting in my headphones bringing back memories of being a latch key kid with nothing else to do before/after school but listen to the radio. Luckily I grew up in LA and had an awesome radio station named KDAY to listen to, or I might be writing about shitty butt rock right now. I'm not going to give you the complete history of KDAY, because this is the internet, and you can just google that shit, right? KDAY was the first all hip hop radio station ever, and it was based out of LA, and they never used a playlist, it was truely an all request station. If it wasn't for KDAY, west coast hip hop wouldn't exist, and east coast hip hop would have never left the east coast. The station left a huge impression on me at a young age, and exposed a lot of different music and ways of thinking about the world. I mean, I started listening in the 3rd grade before school. I can honestly say that Hip Hop shaped my life in alot of the same ways that Punk/Hardcore did some years later. I can also say that I truely cannot understand how people listen to 'normal' 'pop' music at all when theres a shitload of great, REAL music all around them that's a million times better. Anyhow...I feel like I'm rambling...I guess that's what you do on these things though, right?<br /><br />Playlist for lately:<br /><br />The Rub Hip Hop mix series (especially 87-90)<br />Knife Fight - Crisis<br />Love Pentagon - LiveBobby Frankshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09165059042189717763noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14874412.post-84078234384904544152008-01-31T09:26:00.000-08:002008-01-31T09:37:17.485-08:00I suck, I know.So my initial run at this thing lasted only two days. Oops. Nothing I can say really other than that. Right now it's 9:30 in the morning on the last day of January. I'm tired, hungry, and can't sleep. I'd eat some food, but Frank is on my couch sleeping and I don't want to wake him. I shouldn't eat before bed anyways. Anyhow, I'm rambling, aren't I?<br /><br />I figured I'd get back on this thing because people were asking me about it, and I really enjoy writing stuff. And if people are asking me about it, than I guess my life is interesting enough for people to want to read in on it. At the time I started this up, my life was pretty fucking nutty. Not that it's normal now in any sense, but believe me shit was crazy. I also forgot my password and what email I used when I created this, so that took a while to figure out. Anyhow, enough excuses, right?<br /><br />What's going on? Hrmm..let's see...Ummm. I guess you'll have to tune in tomorrow? Haha...<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span><br /><br /></span></span></span>Bobby Frankshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09165059042189717763noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14874412.post-64151495021508425022007-11-09T05:48:00.000-08:002007-11-09T06:15:23.725-08:00It Must Be Friday.It's 5:48am and I'm alone in the kitchen. I hear Timmy rumbling around down in his room, but Marco is nowhere to be found. He's probably sleeping peacefully. It's a bummer, man. I really like the chemistry of the three of us together in the wee hours of the morning. I go to bed each morning with a smile on my face after hearing about the night I missed, except on Fridays. I'd go more in detail, but you don't care.<br /><br /><br />Playlist for the past two days:<br /><br />- the song 'Banana Splits' by The Dickies (over and over again).<br />- St. Vitus 'St. Vitus' record played very loud in my car.<br />- Morning time at the Lodge (well, minus right now).<br />- the quesadilla.Bobby Frankshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09165059042189717763noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14874412.post-5705885156527471342007-11-07T04:06:00.001-08:002007-11-07T04:57:56.830-08:00Dusting Off The...Well, Dust...<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:georgia;">Did I register this thing over a year ago? Damn. Well, shit. Where did the time go? Better late than never I guess...right? Anyhow, here goes:</span></span><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:georgia;"><br /><br /></span></span><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:georgia;">It's 4am on a Wednesday. It's the 7th day of November (already?), and I'm tired from work. Right now I'm waiting for my pizza to cook and thinking 'Why the hell didn't I start this thing last week while I was on vacation?'. Well, I was busy with things, and it didn't occur to me that I had this blog until last Friday when I was outside of a shitty bar sitting on the curb talking to my friend Melinda.</span></span><br /></div><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:georgia;"><br /><br />We were shooting the shit like we used to years ago, and she asked if I was still writing. The truth is, no. But it's not because I didn't want to or didn't have the time. I just wasn't. Can't remember when I stopped either. It's been months really. Who cares though, right? I mean, I didn't really care till she asked. She wasn't the first person to ask, but she was the first to get me off my ass and doing something again. Thanks Melinda! </span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;"><br /><br />Anyhow, I know this isn't much of a first post to my blog, but whatever, right? It's something, and that's all that matters. Maybe next time I won't have ten hours of work under my belt before I sit down and have a go here. Maybe. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;"><br />Up Next:</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">-a full recap of my experience at The Fest! in Gainesville.</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">-pizza reviews!</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">-more randomness.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;"><br />My top 5 for today:</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">-the new Pink Razors 7"+ their Fest! set (favorite new band discoveries rule!)</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">-all audio and live output by the band Drunken Boat (you can add seeing Harrison still doing his wonderful thing at the Fest! as a kick in my ass to start this blog up too...)</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">-Red Baron French Bread Pizzas</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">-The tedious task of converting vinyl to MP3 (is not fun at all, but totally worth it for rock out with your headphone seshes at 4:30 in the morning). </span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">-anticipating the arrival of the Anti-Matter book.</span></span>Bobby Frankshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09165059042189717763noreply@blogger.com0