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frank cotton here, yeah, that's right, i'm still here, and still running my mouth. from the top - frank cotton, here, with a SPECIAL REPORT on the the lousiness, if that is, indeed, a word, of his, that being, and meaning, my, personal, and actual, 50th birthday. IT SUCKED! first off, i had to work; can't miss a friday, what with gas, and the world, and all that. no big deal. i need the money, right? so, it's friday, my bday, and MOMS, of course, SHE can be counted on, i'm her son, right? she, like, gives me a card and fifty bucks. absolutely perfect. couldn't ask for more, but, yet, get this...she's hangin' out at boyfriends house, tonight, so frank's got the house to himself! rock on, motherfuckers! right? yeah. so, it started out like this, great, like, for the first five minutes. or so. and, well, yeah, it kinda kept goin' ok, for a while - i stopped by BORDERS(?), got a cup of coffee, and went on in to work. to do my CORPORATE DUTY. as it were. day goes by, turns into night, and , eventually, frank gets off work. so. what's the big deal? how, is that, so bad? i, will tell you, momentarily. wow. sorry about the, dead air (i do this LIVE, as in, i type it up as soon as it, happens, if i can, if i'm near a, keyboard). let me explain: it is now, 8:32 in the AM, YOUR time (remember, it's ALWAYS midnite, here, at the station), monday, march 28th. i have just returned from, taking a leak. and, lo, and, behold, what do i see when i, get to the bathroom? it's FUCKING SNOWING! seriously, no shit. back, to the program. the big deal. not one call, not one gift, not one, anything, from, anyone. nothing. all day. my own 'brother', who should be, taking me out to a strip club for drinks, AND, at the, very LEAST, one, lousy, lap dance, WHERE, THE FUCK IS HE? he didn't even, call. no voice mail. nothing. frank WOULD, have taken himself out, to yon' strip club, but, alas, his tax return has been, snagged by the, court/so-called justice system/restitution that frank, actually, owes to the feds, for that whole, misunderstanding at the bank, thing. so. no cash. bummer. look. i said to, not, make a big deal of it, NOT, to, mind, ignore it, ENTIRELY. i said that, about all birthdays, after, yes. NOT, THIS ONE. so. worst of all, i told a few of the angels, about it, being my, birthday, and, all, and, what did i get? did i get a single, hug? NO. did any one, of the beautiful girls (at work, at BORDERS), so much as, say, blow me, a, kiss? HELL FUCKING NO! NOT, A ONE. so. that's why frank's so riled today/tonight/tommorow. which leads me into, my next bitch session. why i don't date. or even bother, to try. it's been, coming for a while now, and i think i'll just cut, to the chase, and, sum up just why god is, so all-fired up and, pissed off, a lot of the time, especially, here, lately. could someone, just, please explain to me why, i, frank cotton, emperor of the, known universe, the, most holy of holies, the, LORD GOD HIMSELF, who, just happened to, by the way, design it, in the, first place, WHY CAN'T I, GET ANY PUSSY! PLEASE? buehler? anyone? HELLO! this is serious, i'm trying to make a, point here, and that point is, at least, i hope it, is, that women don't, pick a guy by looks, alone? right? correct? isn't, that...why, that's JUST, BULLSHIT! they are, every bit, as shallow, as men are! the men, they complain about, being shallow! why don't i, date? let's see, what am, i missing, BESIDES a, shot of leg, from, time to time. is it the, mind-numbing, mind-changing, mind-games? NO! don't, miss that. is it the, i, love you so much, but, then, i, go out of my way to make us, both, miserable, with all the, boo-hooing over the, teeny-tinyest, little thing, thing? HELL NO! sure as shit, don't miss, that! is it the, nerve-wracking harping, that, pretty much, every woman gets around to, doing, on, a regular basis, eventually? uh, no. so. girls, please...this is, an over-simplification, but, honestly, how many other, girls, do YOU know, that, deliberately, sabotage, pretty near every 'relationship' they, find themselves in? because, they're, waiting for, mister perfect, and, well, this one's just, filler until, he, finally, shows up? this, is a heads up, ladies. because, if, things continue on, the way they, are headed, with all this, bullshit, one day, we men, are, going to perfect the, PUSSYBOT, which comes with a, handy remote control, including buttons, for, MUTE, PAUSE (think, FREEZEFRAME), and, OFF! and, then, we're going to take all our, 'bots, and, all our, handyman, honeydo, house maintanance/auto repair/etc. skills, and, MOVE TO, ANOTHER PLANET. WITHOUT, YOU. seriously, ladies, my last shot at, companionship, for, lack of a better word (the 'r' word being, unacceptable), led to, after, one week, my putting a cigarette out on, the back of, my, (left) hand, to leave a, permanent reminder, of, how i, ALWAYS, end up getting, BURNED. EVERY, SINGLE, TIME. and i try, my dears, i try harder than, anyone, to make you, happy, and, keep you, happy. in that girl's defense, i, was unaware that, she, was a, board-certified psychotic, and, she was, literally, locked up in a, hospital for, a, week, because, she'd gone off her, medication, and, off her, rocker. this, has been a, SPECIAL REPORT, and, i am, frank cotton, signing off.