This is not about Frank but I know he’d approve. Without haste do two things: buy a copy of my book “Death Dance.” you can see part of the book, order it on line with your choice of three different covers.
Is Random House or a University Press going to give you something like that? Go have a look. . .
SEE WODDY ALLEN’S MOVIE ABOUT PARIS!
A well known TV person came up to my wife Mary, and asked why “no Frank!” I’ve had som much trouble with this crazy web site and IPad.
Hang tough. I’ll get this deal figured out. Now you know what I’ll be doing this weekend.
Here’s the deal. They went and changed everything on this site,might now I can’t figure out how to do the simplistic thing.
So if you use WordPress and want to help get in touch with ASAP!
The internet is mind blowing thing. However, it can be the worst high tech fuckup in the world. Yesterday, I got a hit from a guy in Bristol, England!
I went to his sight.”Fire Arms.” no, I don’t have a URL, so you’ll have to Google it.
If your in Bristol, how about another flash out?
Saturday, Frank was in a dark, mood. Hunger ran wild like a wolf its tongue out and dripping, gnawing on Frank’s intestines. Places off the interstate and highways were packed with Lot Lizards, grifters and confidence types, you had to be careful. Yanking his beat down, his early model Chevy Impala desert crawled in to Porky’s Shank’s Fatty Burger. Food was okay the Ice cold beer and the dim roadhouse bar were even better. Frank stuck his snout in the iced beer. He drank until he felt a pair of eyes pasted to the back of his head. It made Frank nervous, annoyed. He didn’t have any enemies. He had done his fair share of grifting and conning along Hwy 62, however no one really knew him. He did things like drive in to Twenty Nine Palms and back for a freight company. No one had ever been to his room at the Del’s Deluxe Motor Inn.
He moved in. She was an alcohol blown blowzy blond with chipped red finer nails.
“Hey man, a couple of beers here,” Frank yelled slapping his palm on the bar.
Her hand shot up. “could you make mine a Vodka Gin Tonic.” After six rounds of drinking, they both were getting smashed. Frank got nervous maybe his prick would be as playable as chewing gum.
“You don’t even know my name,” her tongue struggling in a sea of drink.
” Sherry, Larry, Chemical Sue? What the hell does it fucking matter.”
“You got it, honey it’s how I like it babe.”
In the gravel parking lot Frank glanced back saw the red PBR sign. He felt someone there; and there was. Now he got it! It was one of oldest falls in the world, the two on one double. No violence money–your money.
In the car he felt the emotionless snake pushing on his ribs and it pissed Frank off.
“Try anything except driving and you’ll find out how well, Frank felt a jab in his right side, and you’ll know how well daddy’s pet can bite,” the man hissed smelling of drink and bullshit aftershave.
The car hit an uneven patch of interstate it jumped widely on the uneven pavement. The three occupants jolted side to side. The car bumped left and Frank caught a break. He popped opened the passengers’ door by hooking his finger around an old coat hanger and with his right leg he pushed his two passengers out the car door eating payment. Then gun was left behind in the struggle. Frank stopped the car and backed up. He came to a halt where the man who tried to rob him lay and blew off hisknee caps. Frank threw it in gear and drove off hunting for a cup of coffee..
Reaching for the bread from the toaster, Frank’s fingertips burned a tinge of red. Hot musical notes struck Frank’s brain in the color red.
Taking a gulp of whiskey, he buttered his toast, blew on his fingertips. Glad he didn’t have to play a complete symphony with those babies.