Dr. Frank's What's-it

Ally, a CD COSTS $15. Welcome to capitalism, the pursuit of stuffy old men. You get all the excitement you pay for.

I imagine you'd have to write entirely in monosyllables to satisfy the likes of poor Ally.

I don't think this blog is boring at all. When I saw Frank had a link to Norman Geras's blog I laughed my ass off. I didn't think British Marxist scholars had blogs, but Frank's link proved me wrong.

She must listen to the radio.
Matt M.

I couldn't quite finish reading Ally's comment. It was too boring. Couldn't there be a picture or something?

Girls like her make me wanna change my name >.<

You think he's boring, try interviewing the rest of the band. zzzzzzzzzzzz........

Concur with Ally. I only come here for the Kevin Army nude pics.

Like, sorry you guys didn't like my post, but if you visit my blog

http://www.blurty.com/users/allyxo

then you can read all sorts of really interesting things like my INVISIBLE friends. One is good and one is evil, kid of like on those Tom and Jerry cartoons. Anyway, like I'm 14 years old, so i wish that you guys would quit sending me all those naked pictures of yourselves and trying to instant message me. Well, except for the guy who sent me the picture of Benji Madden on the toilet. You can call me anytime, what's your #? Anyway, what happened to Joel? He was sooooooooooo cute. Too bad he had to fall into obscurity with the Plus Ones. Can you take him back Frank? Oops, Mom just pulled into the driveway, I've gotta go do my homework or I am sooooo dead.... buh-bye!

Well, it is the first time I've ever been, like, above a 5 on the Richter scale of anything.

(note to self: I think there might be a song in there somewhere.)

Hi this is Ally, the person who wrote that journal entry. I'm actually 20 years old and I don't know how you found my journal but um yeah I'm kind of embarassed. Actually that's a lie I'm really embarassed. Sorry Dr. Frank, I didn't know you were going to find that

Okay look I apologized on my journal, it's the title in big capital letters that says I'M SORRY

Am I the only one cheered by the thought of Dr. Frank making valentines at a tea house?

Why apologize? It's obvious Dr. Frank finds your comments fairly amusing. I mean, I lauged my my ass off.

True, with the art of prose, the good doctor takes paragraphs and paragraphs to say what would take mere mortals a couple of succinct, efficient sentences, but who is going to spend the time to actually think the boring, tedious thoughts required to come to the conclusions found within this website? Only one man, I say. Only one man.

Long live the Dr.

Well, I've been a silent reader for quite a while now...and I happen to think this blog is quite entertaining to say the least. Not that my opinion would matter, but ya know.

I happen to like "More than toast" and well pretty much anything else you've written Doc.
You sir are an inspiration. Any chance of an MTX show in Connecticut any time this year? If so I am so there.

Aw, that's okay, Ally. To be perfectly honest, I find myself pretty boring, too. No worries.

eh, one track minds...what can you do? congrats on the 9.8, frank.

Ally should not be surprised,i'm not going to
call anyone boring,but liberal California is
often anything but that. A good portion of the
were punks all have cell phones and computer jobs
on the side. Anyone can write. Honestly,you
just have to try and use a little imagination.
People from all walks of life do this stuff these
days. Maybe they always did. Its just more and
more obvious to me now. But I realized it doesn't
matter,because I have ideals in my life that are more important than overcapitilizing music. Things
that will always mean something and never turn shallow. But now I'm just ranting,and I have to
leave anyways.

Ally, I understand your disappointment. Think of Dr. F's blog this way--it ony serves to humanize him. Let me tell you a little story....
There was a time in my life when I was obsessed with Dr. Frank. "Who is this man," I thought to myself, "who can use the word 'outre' in a song so effortlessly." The guy wasn't even in Sterolab!! "Genius," I thought--not once, not twice, but a whole lotta times--get it? I was obsessed. I would walk around in a daze, thinking of nothing but MTX lyrics. In the jingle of a dog's collar, I would hear Velveeta; the song of the mocking bird, at 5am, would become a medley of MTX songs. Once, while blocking traffic on Durant Ave, just so I could hear car horns blare out the chorus for 'Ba Ba Ba Ba Ba,' I was struck and knocked unconscious. When I came to, all I could utter was "forget about me, how's Dr. Frank."
Well, Ally, I was declared a threat to myself and I was checked into El Rancho Loco, if you know what I mean. There were times there, when I found myself on the floor, wrapped up in a straight jacket like a super carnitas burrito, singing 'Our Days Are Numbered'--and I don't even LIKE Alcatraz (that much). At the rehab therapy sessions I attended, I would paint Dr. Frank incesantly--Dr. Frank as a Hobo Clown, Dr. Frank as one of those waif children with huge eyes, Anime Dr. Frank, Dr. Frank on black velvet. My favorite was Dr. Frank in the style of Edward Hopper, standing on a stage, alone, with a downward gaze--Big Empty Room, I called it.
Nobody understood me. "Shit, that don't even LOOK like Elvis," they said of my work. One kind nurse, one who understood, suggested I try painting Jon Von instead. So I did--as a Rip Off. He had a black leather jacket and a nylon mask with holes cut out for the eyes and mouth. The thing looked like a darker, creepier version of Edvard Munch's The Scream. (Incidentally, I sold it to a guy who worked at Moe's Books, who ended up hanging it in the bathroom. It was there for six months before someone swiped it.) The painting only served to keep me at El Rancho longer than I wanted to be there.
Ally, my doctors decided that curing my obsession would be like trying to find an off switch for Jello Biafra's mouth--in a word, impossible. What cured me? The Blog. Something about it. It could've been the colors, soothing cream and green, like a 20mg Prozac capsule, but mostly it was Dr. Frank's "voice," if you get me. He's just some guy with a few neuroses and obsessions of his own. Disappointing, maybe. Boring, never. Death and Taxes will catch up to him just as surely as they will you and me. (Taxes got Chuck Berry, remember--musicians are probably MORE likely to be nailed by the IRS than you or I).
Now, if only Roach from the Groovie Ghoulies would start a blog....

That was great, Sheckie, esp. this part: "At the rehab therapy sessions I attended, I would paint Dr. Frank incesantly--Dr. Frank as a Hobo Clown, Dr. Frank as one of those waif children with huge eyes, Anime Dr. Frank, Dr. Frank on black velvet. My favorite was Dr. Frank in the style of Edward Hopper, standing on a stage, alone, with a downward gaze--Big Empty Room, I called it. "

Hee.

HA! I would love to see the painting of Dr. Frank as a hobo clown or as a Keane painting. That would make a great solo cover. (..long time lurker/first post)