Uptonism

This one comes from the great state of Oregon. It’s not mine, but very much noteworthy.

Fucktard

Definition:

1. Someone who just can’t seem to pull it together.

In a sentence - You are a Fucktard! No matter what you do, you Fuck it

up and it Smells.

2. That guy who always works out in front of the mirrored wall at the gym. Yeah, I know, you are analyzing your definition. Fucktard!

Thanks James!

Uptonism

Balldropper

Definition:

1. One who can never quite get certain task done correctly or without incident.
2. A screw-up.
3. Another name for boxer shorts.

In a sentence - That balldropper just got smacked in the face by the revolving door!

Beer League

So, I played the first game of softball with my company team last night.

Yeah! Wow!..........I suck!

One thing is for certain……that big ball freakin’ HURTS! And it isn’t SOFT either. It’s just oversized and hard to catch at high speeds. I figure it’s about the same as a bowling ball coming at you at 80 miles per hour.

Catch it? Are you fucking nuts?!

I started the night at 3^rd base. Not bad considering that when you have a bunch of people getting drunk and swinging wildly at anything crossing the plate, 3^rd really is a nap area. If you cross my little square pad in the dirt, you are probably at full speed for home. I just stand there with my glove out –as if someone has actual control of the ball….to uh, throw it to me.

Then we rotated.

Wow! The outfield sucks! It’s lonely and away from everything. I suddenly felt like the basest of a rock band. I guess that’s why outfielders taunt everybody. Yeah, their bored as shit! Until………….

Ok, so now there is a freakin’ cantaloupe size ball cruising through the air –towards ME. Did I mention that I SUCKED?!!

It was like slow motion. Everyone stopped to look at me. The trustworthy outfielder. Yup.

NO! I didn’t catch the fucking ball!! Thanks for asking!! It hit the ground five feet behind me. Great! Uncoordinated chubby wheezing ass-crack sweating BALL DROPPER!!!!

I felt better after a beer in the dugout, but I don’t think I will ever be the same. After you shamefully chase after a perfectly catchable ball- your world sort of boils down to one word:

Pussy………..ball dropper. (ok, that’s three)

FU

Things that are dumb #1

Ok….these Monster.com commercials are REALLY starting to piss me off! You know the ones I’m talking about. The line that makes me want to scratch my eyes out is this:

“People who use Monster.com are TWICE as likely to get a job, than those who don’t!”

Wha….? Are you kidding me?!

That statement is so stupid, it couldn’t balance on a tricycle!

Really guys?! TWICE as likely…….than doing nothing at all?! No fucking shit!

That’s like saying “Those who drink their own pee are twice as likely to puke, than those who just had coke!”

Do me a favor “ad guru’s” and get more sleep. You obviously had a night of drunken butt sex before you came up with that brilliant statement.

Ok…….I’m done.

FU

Uptonisms- a beginning

I have come up with a new word:

Hodick

Definition:

1. Someone, male or female, who represents all that is wrong or vile. Individuals possessing this trait are most commonly seen with a silly smirk on their face like they have just chewed on some shit. The individual would say it is a look of confidence, but that does not explain the brown smudge on the corner of their mouth.
2. A call-out to someone you usually do not like. (e.g., Hey hodick!, or That hodick stood me up last night!, or Yo’ mamma’s a hodick!)
3. A company in Taiwan that mass produces rubber chickens. HODICK Inc.

As of today, these new “words” that come to me will be logged for posterity. They will be known as Uptonisms. (I’m already working on the copyright…..so don’t even think about it bitch!)

FU

The List

Yesterday I was sitting at lunch with a friend, and a very shocking question was thrown at me like a mess of floppy cow shit. I was so thrown back by it, that I let a tiny little fart go.

Just a little sweeker.

(wow….cow shit and a fart joke…..in very close proximity. It’s an anal day)

ANYWAY, the question was simple –“What is your plan?”

The answer was - …………………………..*

Yeah –I didn’t have one. Not even a good line of BS to fill up the empty air with. I was just motionless, with a piece of lettuce hanging out of my mouth. Fucking catatonic in mid-bite.

A plan? I don’t have a fucking PLAN! Hell, my checkbook has been MIA for at least two months now, and I have never really looked for it. That’s how I roll.

The last plan I had landed me at the end of an isle with “The Wedding March” playing in the background. THAT one sure worked out for me.

After all these things flashed through my head, I realized that my friend was just sitting there…..staring at me.

“Oh……you wanted an answer?” It seemed she did.

I suddenly felt like the retarded brother in Something About Mary! “Frank and beans! Frank and beans!” But, in the end, I realized that I really did need to come up with some kind of……………plan.

So, in true Frank style, I came up with this list.

MY LIST OF PLANS

1. I plan to get a fucking life…..sometime after lunch.
2. I plan to have sex (with or without someone there)
3. I plan to walk over to the weird guy, who hangs out on the corner every day, and ask him what his fucking plan is.
4. I plan to make as many calls as possible on my cell phone while drunk.
5. I plan to have a nice day! If you don’t like it- fuck off!
6. I plan on pretending I am some kind of rock star in the bathroom mirror, and get caught by a co-worker.
7. I plan to plan……better.
8. I plan to have a long talk with myself…..and log it as an appointment.
9. I plan to once again try and hunt down a girl I dated in 12^th grade with the computer. Google, Myspace, fucking Classmates.com, and so on. I will then become depressed and disgusted with myself for trying to hunt down someone who cheated on me 4 times.
10. I plan to go smoke………I’ll be right back.
11. I plan to log that as an appointment.
12. I plan to meet Jessica Alba, and have her fall madly in love with me. We will jetset together and be photographed making out on the beach. Soon, a graphic sex tape will surface, and I will be asked to be on all the talk shows to blubber about the invasion of privacy.
13. I plan on reading about the guy in Afghanistan who is going to be put to death because he converted to Christianity, and say WTF?
14. I plan to fix all my problems by sending a mass e-mail to everyone I know that simply says “oops!”
15. I plan to NOT text ANYBODY, nor receive one –adding another day to my 11,646 day record of NOT TEXTING.
16. I plan to run away, and join the circus –have a devastating experience in a horrible trapeze accident- have Bruce Wayne adopt me- only to then get pissed off that he makes me wear green tights.
17. I just farted….that was un-planned.
18. I plan to force people to start calling me Skippy. I just like it.
19. I plan to make copies some time today, if I can find a way to hover my ass over the machine just right.
20. I plan to stop this shit at 20.

P.S.- Going back to lunch with my friend –I never did answer her. I just told her she had a giant booger hanging out of her nose, and she ran off to the bathroom. Go figure.

FU

SMILE!

I went out to grab a quick beer last night. Just one….or two……….more maybe. Anyway, after my stint with the hopps, I headed for my car. And wouldn’t you know it, some fuckwad stuck a piece of paper under my windshield wiper. Worse yet….. everyone had gotten the same little rectangular gift.

The lot had been hit! The little elves of outdoor marketing had come, and left us all a present! How sweet of them.

With great anger, I ripped the damn thing off my car, and was about to throw it to the ground. But, strangely I was drawn to look at it…..as if it was……..calling me.

This is what I saw:

What the HELL is this?!

I looked at the back, held it up to the street light, even got real close to the front –trying to see if there was any indication of what this was all about. Nuttin.

It was just that……..face.

I was laughing to near tears before I even realized it. It hit me like a wave. Somebody really tagged ALL these cars with this crazy fuck in a hat. Smiling…..at us!

Was it some kind of political statement? Politicians don’t smile unless holding babies.

Was it some kind of message? Like –“I just got a thumb in the ass! Yeah!!”

How about a stance on life? Smile…..or I’ll pull out my crazy knife and cut ya!

Crazy hat wearing smiley knife boy seemed to make my night. Maybe that was just it. Somehow, some genius hippy type found the answer.

Just laugh a little…..and then move on. Wow……..fucked huh?

FU

The state of my UNION

It always seems to be a big freakin’ deal when the president does this, so why not? I have every right (and obligation) to walk up to the podium and look back and forth at little plastic see-through things that have my……..words on it. I’m sure you are all just dying with anticipation!

……………….and here we go!

“Ladies and gentlemen of the forum! The supreme leader of all that is Frank -within the realm and surrounding five foot circle of Frankworld…..Frank Upton!”

(loud applause)

Thank you! Thank you! I have come here tonight to say that the state of Frank’s union is full of hot wind and odiferous bullshit. Thus….all is well!

(louder applause)

First off, the state of our physical framework has gone though some changes, as you know, this year. We have seen the development of overhang near our equator, as well as drastic recession of our polar haircap. I have been assured by my department of self-evaluation that this is NOT a problem. Steps have been made in recent months to skew this phenomena by creating a new department in my administration. As of today, the Dapartment of Looking the Other Way has been put into action. As of today, we can once again deny all reality with clean hands!

(standing ovation)

Many individuals have come to me in recent months to discuss our union’s increase in demand for certain specialized liquids. Some would say that this administration does not have a real grip on the problem of the growing cost of these substances, and what it is doing to our overall deficit. I say NAY to these radicals! We have taken steps to lower the cost, and increase the volume of such liquids through an exclusive deal -recently struck with Milwaukee! Thus, less emphasis on imports!

(applause / some tears)

Now to the growing anxiety our union is facing due to the Female Terrorist Threat. I understand the desire to gender profile during these strenuous times. Last weeks burning of the Cosmopolitan Magazine headquarters shows me that we are on the verge of a breaking point. I tell you today, as your elected leader, that not all vaginas are terrorists. We must hold true our moral fortitude, and remember why we embraced them in the first place. They are kin to us, and should be cherished…..at least three times a week. And no longer will the crass term of “Trim” be allowed –no matter what they are wearing. We are civilized people, and those bitches will not bring us down!

Lastly, this administration will no longer answer to questions like “Why did you do that?” or “What were you thinking?” These things are protected by national security, and will only be answered from this point forward with a firm middle finger held high in the air. Thus, showing our nationalism.

I thank all of you for being here, and wish you all the best. If you need me, I will be in my office…..hoping SOMEBODY wants to give me a lickey loo!

(all stand in thundering ovation)

FU

Happy Rainbow Apple

I am a PC user. I know, some of you out there are saying……“pussy.” There have been several attempts to help me see the light when it comes to the MAC, but at the end of the day it just didn’t take. Some would say I am afraid of change. Others would just say that I’m too old to understand the flashy OS (growing and shrinking icons fucking freak me out.) You could even try to explain my lack of MAC enlightenment to my growing fear of iPods. They are everywhere, and I know that it is only a matter of time before they “soft scroll” their way to the presidency. Major takeover fear here guys!
But…….alas NO. The real reason I have an issue with them is this:

What happened to this guy?

It’s like……….nowhere anymore. It seriously took me a while to even find it. On top of that, there does not seem to be any real acknowledgeable change-over to the new silver classy apple that is used today. It’s like they moved that direction so slowly, that nobody noticed……right? So what’s the deal?

What does Apple have against the happy rainbow anyway? Does this question lie in redundancy? Dare I? Yup….I dare.

Do you have an issue with gay people APPLE??? How about you MAC? With a name like MAC I can only assume. To be sure, the rainbow has long been the calling card of the homosexual revolution. Bumper stickers, hats, flags, t-shirts…..gay people are happy! Is that a fucking problem with you APPLE?!

Maybe the stiff shirts in corporate got wise to this, and suddenly got nervous. Immediately letterheads were switched to “outline apple” or “all black apple.” The rainbow apple was suddenly getting the shaft!

Soon, this began to spread to the business department. Without warning, employees were getting memos with an “all red” apple……or no fucking apple at all! Greg in accounting was like “WTF??!!” The paranoia was spreading. Everyone was beginning to question their identity. “What does the public think?” “Is this a topic of conversation?” “Can a major corporation claim an orientation?” “How do you sign off on that?”

Herald in the design department got a frantic call around 3 a.m. on a Friday. The APPLE needed immediate attention! As he tried to shrug off his on-coming margarita hangover, he said -“Let’s just make the fucker gray.” –and instantly fell back to sleep.

The A.S.D (Apple Strategy Department) was formed that very moment. It’s job –make the happy rainbow Apple disappear….without making it look like you are actively trying to make it………disappear. A delicate matter to say the least. Herald, with his genius “Gray filled Apple” idea was named department head. Thus, the creepingly slow process began.

………………….there you have it. This is all hearsay, but what the hell.

Maybe someone out there has the real scoop. Maybe its just one of those things that happen to an icon after time.

OR, just MAYBE Apple is afraid of “The memory stick goes snuggly into the port.” jokes. The world may never know. Hell, a friend of mine fucking WORKS for Mac….and he is absolutely clueless about the whole thing.

UPDATE: Upon looking up the happy rainbow Apple situation, my friend was shot dead…..then fired. There are no suspects.

FU

Time is short

The laws of the land:
1. If you are in a hurry, you will never get there on time.
2. If you are not in a hurry, you could run naked down the highway, and not as much as a retard on a scooter would cross your path.
3. Nobody has ever made it somewhere in 30 minutes…….ever.
4. If you are in a hurry, and you have to get there in 30 minutes….please refer back to #1.
3:15 pm
I just left an appointment, MAX- six miles away from work. I HAD to be back by 3:45 pm so that I could make a meeting with my boss. A meeting I knew was about how I was not getting things done in a proficient matter.
Let the games begin.
3:19 pm
I get on the highway –after being stuck on the side street for dramatically too long. Why is it that every time you see a line of orange cones….it leads to four or five guys by a truck….eating sandwiches? I don’t care if it’s three in the morning! Sandwiches OUT!!
3:24 pm
I have been cut off in the middle lane THREE TIMES! I missed my exit. Just cant get right. Maybe there is a bar at the next one.
3:33 pm
I end up going down a one way street I have never been on. For anyone who knows, this is the most terrifying experience known to man. I can now see my building to the right…but have no fucking clue how to get there.
3:39 pm
I turn right down an alley. I meet a man named Bud, who gives me directions down an adjoining alley. It cost me 2 bucks.
3:43 pm
My boss calls:
Boss: Where are you?
Me: Somewhere south of downtown.
Boss: How did you get there?
Me: I listened to Bud.
Boss: Who’s Bud?
Me: A guy with 2 bucks.
3: 50 pm
I’m late. I hope I die…..along with Bud.
4:10 pm
I finally find a street I recognize. I hit the gas. Right in front of a cop.
4:28 pm
Cop lets me go. His name was Steve. Thanks Steve.
4:45 pm
I make it to the office…an hour late.
Moral to this story: Who gives a shit. Sometimes life just throws it at your face. Walk it off!
FU

"POP!"

Ok, so I have not felt well for the past few days (go figure) so I went to the doctor yesterday. Here is the whole thing…..my appendices is swollen. Hmmm…removal? Nope. It seems that we are going to play the “wait and see” game here. Hmmmm.

I was confused, so I had a very frank conversation with the good doctor.

Me: So….now what?

Doc: Medicine.

Me: No yankie yank?

Doc: Not now.

Me: …………….won’t I die or something?

Doc: It’s not really appendicitis. It’s just sort of….off.

Me: Off? Like out to lunch?

Doc: For now. It’s IN FUEGO, and this medicine should help.

Me: ……………..

Doc: Look, if you start to have the symptoms of appendicitis, go straight to the hospital….do not pass go.

Me: Like?

Doc: Nausea, fever, GAS, sweating, low energy, pain in your extremities, severe side pains, clammy hands.

Me: Sounds like a heart attack!

Doc: …………..either way, a hospital would be good at that point.

And that was it, I was left to fend for myself –with a jar of little pills.

Now, I am walking around completely paranoid. Could I “pop” at any moment? Should I put a sign on my shirt that says “If I am buckled on the ground, moaning with pee down my leg, my appendices have burst?” I don’t think my mind is zoned for that kind of activity.

Well….here’s to hoping. “POP!”

FU

I'm a BAD BOY

Due to legal matters, the following may (or may not) have happened. I would like to hereby and forthwith distance my person from any pending, soon to be pending, or due to “pend” civil or criminal action. I no longer wish to pursue further “shittyness” towards said company, party, or parties who may (or may not) wish to see me shove off.

Have you seen THIS guy?

DING!!! –that’s right! It’s our good buddy TOM…..from Myspace! The coolest most yummy terrific super fantastic pre and post pubescent domain of lost and frustrated self-absorbed neophytes on the internet!!! Yeah!!!! -Just an opionion.....don't sue please....really!

Based on my “what the hell ever” attitude towards this failed venture of “good clean” interactions between teens (and adults, and criminals, and molesters, and mothers who want to pretend they are a footloose and fancy fucking free 21 year olds again)….I decided to screw with them a little.

For those of you who are unfamiliar with this web-chat-service….something that is all the rage now, let me give you a brief overview. I’m in sales….I think I can pitch it.

Are you young and impressionable?.............Myspace. Are you old and lonely?........Myspace. Are you easily amused by little blurbs like “Thx for the add!!” and “Like the pics! Your super cool!” then it’s………..Myspace. It’s the worlds most interactive connectivity site to complete strangers who could become your BESTEST FRIEND even though they may live a thousand miles away……naked at the computer. Nice.

How was that?

ANYWAY, I decided some time ago that I would create a………person, that would create havoc and turmoil in the wide world of Myspace. I would be generally annoying and brash to whoever had the bad luck of crossing my high speed path. It was a hoot!! I was causing people to lock out their sites left and right. I was hated……and I LOVED it!!

(WARNING: Important side note –I’m not really a super ASS or anything, I just have some…well….personal issues with these guys.)

This went on for some time. That is….until today. I have been THROWN OFF of Myspace. Eradicated, erased, deleted, thrown from the posse. I am no longer welcome.

As I work to recover from this evil blow, I wish to state one more time…..

Due to legal matters, the above may (or may not) have happened. I would like to hereby and forthwith distance my person from any pending, soon to be pending, or due to “pend” civil or criminal action. I no longer wish to pursue further “shittyness” towards said company, party, or parties who may (or may not) wish to see me shove off.

…….more to come. FU

The Rules

I decided when I started the thing, that I wasn't going to be a big "Re-poster." You know, the cut and paste kind of thing. I wanted everything to be just my voice. Well, I came across something that I felt was very much my voice....but not from my voice. It was in fact from some other random voice unknown to my voice........they have not met. But, if my voice, and the random one were to meet, I think they would get along famously. Maybe go have a beer or something......like I did last night............thus the re-post thing.
ANYWAY, it's something I hold close to my heart, and I give it to you. FU

Men’s Rules (that women should know)

Women, learn to work the toilet seat. You’re a big girl. If it’s up, put it down. We need it up, you need it down. You don’t hear us complaining about you leaving it down.

Birthdays, Valentines, and Anniversaries are not considered by us to be opportunities to see if we can find the perfect present . . . . again!

Sometimes we are not thinking about you. Live with it.

Sunday = sports. It’s like the full moon or the changing of the tides. Let it be.

Don’t cut your hair. Ever. Long hair is always more attractive than short hair. One of the big reasons guys fear getting married is that married women always cut their hair, and by then you’re stuck with her.

Ask for what you want. Subtle hints do not work! Strong hints do not work! Obvious hints do not work! Just say it!

We don’t remember dates. . . .Period!!

Most guys own three pairs of shoes - tops. What makes you think we’d be any good at choosing which pair, out of thirty, would look good with your dress?

Yes and No are perfectly acceptable answers to almost every question.

Come to us with a problem only if you want help solving it. That’s what we do. Sympathy is what your girlfriends are for.

A headache that lasts for 17 months is a problem. See a doctor.

Anything we said 6 months ago is inadmissible in an argument. In fact, all comments become null and void after 7 days.

If you won’t dress like the Victoria’s Secret girls, don’t expect us to act like soap opera guys.

If you think you’re fat, you probably are. Don’t ask us. We’ve been tricked before!!

If something we said can be interpreted two ways, and one of the ways makes you sad or angry, we meant the other one.

Let us ogle. We are going to look anyway; it’s genetic.

You can either ask us to do something or tell us how you want it done. Not both. If you already know best how to do it, just do it yourself.

Whenever possible, please say whatever you have to say during commercials.

Christopher Columbus did not need directions, and neither do we.

The relationship is never going to be like it was the first two months we were going out. Get over it. And quit whining to your girlfriends.

ALL men see in only 16 colors, like Windows default settings. Peach, for example, is a fruit, not a color. Pumpkin is also a fruit. We have no idea what mauve is.

If it itches, it will be scratched. We do that.

We are not mind readers and we never will be. Our lack of mind-reading ability is not proof of how little we care about you.

If we ask what is wrong and you say “nothing,” we will act like nothing’s wrong. We know you are lying, but it is just not worth the hassle.

If you ask a question you don’t want an answer to, expect an answer you don’t want to hear.

Don’t ask us what we’re thinking about unless you are prepared to discuss such topics as navel lint, the shotgun formation, or monster trucks.

Foreign films are best left to foreigners. (Unless it’s Bruce Lee or some war flick where it doesn’t really matter what they’re saying anyway.)

BEER is as exciting for us as handbags are for you.

Thank you for reading this; Yes, I know, I have to sleep on the couch tonight, but did you know, it’s like camping.

My "Life Rate"......sucks

So, yesterday a friend of mine sent me a link, that led to one of those “Life Evaluator” websites. I had seen many of these before, but not quite as detailed as this one. While reevaluating my friendship with this individual (and her cheery “I bet this will make you feel better” message) I decided to give the damn thing a try.

It was either that, or another “Do I throw the radio in here with me or not?” showers.

After a few pages of crap, I got a highly organized readout of my shitty little existence.

It looked like this:

This Is My Life, Rated
Life:	3.4
Mind:	4.3
Body:	3.5
Spirit:	4.1
Friends/Family:	6
Love:	0
Finance:	2.2
Take the Rate My Life Quiz

Yup……..a fucking bar chart!

But that’s not all. No, no….my evaluation was just beginning. After downing a quick shot, I returned to the computer with a gun in my hand, and began to scroll. It was completely amazing to me that –yes…this thing is stupid, but it seemed so….real. Here I was in the privacy of my own home, and the internet was calling me a loser. TO MY FACE!!

The evaluation broke down my life into a few general categories. It was long winded and annoying, so I’ll give you the precious nuggets of info from each one:

Your life score is on the low end. Making key changes to different aspects of your life will bring you greater fulfillment. –Thanks dickhead. I’ll go change…..something.

Your mind score is rather low, which means that your mental state is not in tune. Learn to filter out the noise of everyday life. –In tune? Is it the red or green crystal that does that?!

You have a rather low body score, which means that your physical health is not in a good condition. You must put a higher priority on your body, focusing on nutrition, exercise, and stress reduction. –Great….now electronics are calling me fat. Fuck me!

You seem to be lacking in spirit. Improve your score by refining your beliefs and searching for answers to philosophical questions. –Here’s one for ya’. If a tree falls in the forest, will anyone hear me BEATING YOU ABOUT THE HEAD WITH THE FUCKING TRUNK??!! BEG FOR YOUR LIFE BITCH! BEG!!!!........sorry about that outburst.

Your friends and family score is not bad but can be improved. –For god sakes! Can I catch a break here?

Your love score is very low, indicating trouble. There is love out there for you. Seek the advice of wise people on how to go about finding it. –The only people I know who know how to find it, pay for it.

Your finance score indicates that your financial situation is in disarray. This is an all-too-common problem. –No shit.

Overall, I was a bit disappointed in my evaluation. So much so, I sent an e-mail back to my friend (who so graciously brightened my day.)

It went a bit like this:

Dear friend.

I hope all is well with you today. I just wanted to let you know that I have completed the evaluation you sent me, and I just wanted to say thanks. Thanks for sobering look in the shattered mirror of my hopes and dreams. Thanks for the reminder that my life does not only suck right now, but that other people know it. Thanks for the long, hot, blubbering cry that I incurred this afternoon. I needed it. I hope you don’t fall of a cliff, and/or burn to a crisp in a raging fire started by El Diablo himself! Fuck you. Have a nice day.

So, please…boys and girls….take the freakin’ test! Then go close your head in a car door!

Luv and kisses…….FU

The Many...........Frank's

It has been brought to my attention that there are several OTHER Frank Upton’s out there in this big bad world. Interesting that I have never noticed this before.

But, upon some research, I have discovered a few that I felt were note worthy.

Frank Monroe Upton- Was in the Navy in 1918, and risked his own life to save a fellow……Navy’er, who was too exhausted to swim after his ship blew to smithereens. He won a medal for it. Good Job Frank!

Frank P. Upton- was some guy who had a disability or something, and climbed Mt. Hood. He had lost a leg a few years earlier…….climbing a mountain.

Frank Upton- of Connecticut won a Cricket championship in 1969. You’re a dork Frank!

That seems to be all I could find on regular Frank Upton’s. Well…..minus Mr. Cricket. But I did find a vastly larger group of Frank Upton fuck-ups. And………………here we go!

Frank W. Upton- was hit by a New York subway car in 1989 while trying to collect change he had dropped. It turned out to be .73 cents.

Frank Upton- of the greater Duluth area, held the record for the biggest ball of hair. Could not find it in Guinness, but I believe it.

Frank Peter Upton- hired and fired on the same day by a major corporation. (I’m not doing all the work for you. Find it your damn self!) His position was Director of Human Resources. Good job Frank!

Frank Upton- of Cape Cod was recently arrested for hiding 1.6 million dollars of stolen goods in his home. He has been described as “notorious on the Cape. He’s a major player.” Wow Frank…..I was a major player once –but then a Level 13 mage fucked me with a +10 Crystal Staff. A FUCKING STAFF FRANK!!

Frank Teeko (WTF?) Upton- died after a fall into a 300 foot Utah ravine. He was investigating a similar fall at that location.

Frank Upton- on THIS blogspot stuff! Like, a crap load…….in some fashion or another (not that you are ALL f-ups…..but we all know who we are.) That means you Frank.

Frank G. Upton- filed for copyright on a hat that would never fly off in the wind. He was denied because the inside of the hat was lined with a very specific adhesive….already under copyright.

I now understand the crowd I hang with. I’m……………..ok with it. Mildly.

Well, that seems to cover it for now. In conclusion, I didn’t think I was the ONLY Frank Upton! SO STOP BRINGING IT UP!!!

FU

CORP and ME

cor·po·ra·tion (kôr'pə-rā'shən)

1. A body that is granted a charter recognizing it as a separate legal entity having its own rights, privileges, and liabilities distinct from those of its members.
2. Such a body created for purposes of government. Also called body corporate.
3. A group of people combined into or acting as one body.
4. Informal. A protruding abdominal region; a potbelly.

Sounds really interesting huh? Do you think when early man discovered fire, they saw this shit coming?! Nope. We as a species have found a way to widdle life down to the lowest common denominator.

Work.

Why do we work? So that we can afford that car –that gets us to the mall –to buy that new shirt –to fucking look good at WORK!!! It’s cyclical like my anus.

The problem with this whole thing is that it no longer supports and nurtures the human soul. Fuck your emotions, fuck your turkey pot pie! Hippie!

“Attention all staff…..we are installing phones in the bathroom today, so that you can crap and sell in tandem! It’s all the same to us!”

Maybe I’m just venting because I lost the best boss I have ever had yesterday. Maybe I’m not cut out for the corporate world. Maybe it's time for a little REVOLUTION!!

………………….ah, I’ll wait for someone else to start that. AND, I’d rather just bitch.

Now that that’s out of the way, did anyone take real notice to definition #4? What the hell is that all about???

FU

Fatty Fat Fat Tuesday

So, last night I got dragged out to the big party –for the big hoopla –on the night before millions put burnt wood on their forehead and pray. I know that traditionally this is considered a very special holiday, but I really think it’s just a legitimizing way to get blasted on a work night.

It was while sitting with friends, among the hundreds of beaded and drunk hotties, that I realized something very important. I have become out of date. Yup….I’m past my expiration date by a few years. This means that you might use me in a pinch, but you’d much rather seek out a…………..younger model.

Here are some very important clues that you too are past your freshness date:

1. The return glance from a chick is more of a “You’re not really looking at me….are you?”

2. You start referring to the pop culture as “Those kids.”

3. Women you are with openly point out men they would like to “Hook Up” with, rather than actively hitting on you.

4. You have no clue what “Hook Up” is, or how to achieve it.

5. The girl heading your direction, ultimately just wants the empty chair next to you for her friend.

6. You no longer look cool while getting drunk. You just look drunk.

7. You begin to have serious contempt issues for really hot women, and it’s freaking you out just a little.

8. You begin to scan the room for women you think might screw you, rather than casing for “hotties.”

9. You will have to tell the same woman your name……like five times in an hour.

10. The same woman calls you “Greg” on her way to someone else’s table.

11. Bottle beer, can beer…..whatever.

12. You look like a fucknut with beads around your neck. Not cool at all.

13. More porn vs. actual female contact.

14. Its becoming harder to validate the time expenditure of shaving your nuts, vs. the actuality someone is going to be near them.

15. Your favorite music has shifted to the “classic rock” station.

If this is you in any way, fear not. Or….go ahead and fear. I don’t care either way. I have my own fucking problems!

FU