As long as I can remember, people have been expressing disbelief at my actions.  
    It all started with my mother.  I remember one day I came home from kindergarten, ashed my cigarette on the cat, and declared “Would it fucking kill you to have some Pop-Tarts ready when I get home?  Jesus damn Christ!”—to which my mother responded, “Well, Frank Lee, I’m appalled!”
    To this day, I don’t understand why my mother was at all surprised by this incident.  A guy goes out and spends a solid three hours playing with blocks and getting stories read to him, he needs a smoke and a toaster pastry, end of story.  It’s a fairly simple concept of entitlement that has eluded every single goddamned person I’ve ever met.  
    There I was on my first date with Gilda Shoeboxer, and let me tell you she was looking pretty as a damned daisy.  My tuna fish sandwich with garlic powder and a side of Doritos was making me feel a little confident, so I turned to her.  I lean over and I says, all breathy and sexy-like, “So, howza boutta little hhum-hhum shazzuhuh-haaaaaahuh?”  I was hoping for a kiss, but instead she says, “Listen, I really like you, but Frank Lee, your breath is a cauldron of horrors.”  I have to admit, that hit a little close to the mark, so I fired back, “Well, I’d take it where I could get it if I was you, lady.”  I didn’t mean it—because in fact, Gilda was a vibrant, thoughtful, and lovely girl—but I just wanted to get under her skin a little bit, you know?  But she slapped me and said, “Frank Lee, that’s the rudest thing anyone has ever said to me in my life.”  Huh!  Boy, had she misunderstood or what?!
    I’m taking a moment to write all this down because of yet another incident at work today that really puzzled me.  There I was, sipping from a Dixie cup at the water cooler, minding my own business.  It was the inaugural celebration of Vodka Tuesday, a tradition I had decided to start in recognition of the fact that Tuesday is usually a pretty tough grind for us down at “Celebrity Siblings Slush Work, Inc.”  My brother, who’s a fairly well known actor, had gotten me the job, and I just wanted to show him I appreciated it by distinguishing myself, so I had substituted vodka for the water in the cooler.  Now, I don’t know why, but everyone was pretty thirsty that day—although, come to think of it, the air conditioning is broken in our building and it was 94 degrees and humid this afternoon.  Anyhow, people were just lapping up the “water” like water, so fast that they didn’t realize it wasn’t water until they’d downed a few.  Well!  As you can probably guess, everyone was feeling a bit “happy,” and I figured we were going to have ourselves a jolly old time, but wouldn’t you know those wily rascals ended up hi-jacking an 18-wheeler and crashing it into City Hall?!  During a vote on an important referendum, no less!  And of course, there I am back at the office, because I stayed behind to keep the boss’s kid company while his daddy went out for a “joy ride” (boy, talk about your idiots—what kind of dad brings his son to work on Vodka Tuesday?!  I mean, really!).   Anyhow, I was just singing him some funny songs about romance I learned during my days as a sailor, when all of a sudden everyone from the office shows up with the cops, pointing at me and shouting, “It was him!”
    Honestly, I don’t know what to make of all this.  I mean, all I’ve ever tried to do is live every day with a smile on my face, and all that happens is a constant stream of reminders that people nothing but self-serving jerks.  I, Frank Lee, am appalled.

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Activity #8 -- Lick a trash can