Saturday, August 8, 2009

"Draw thy sword, that if my words offend a noble thy arm may do thee justice". I hate to say it but Lou Bacher has sparred with nobility. He has embraced the spirit of the roast. So few have ever known the honor of being skewered, skinned and roasted by those who love you, the sheer teary eyed ecstasy of it. Thanks Lou. You like me. You really, really like me.


  1. Hey Frank, I hope our dear Bro, Conor, isn't reading this as I am very concerned for his well being. This Era of Good Feeling that is oozing through his protective armor is not a good sign. The last time he said anything that wasn't completely venomous about anyone, the only thing that helped pull him out of it was watching every rerun of the Golden Girls and One Day At A Time. For nourishment during this trying period I recommend from 6 "- 8" of the 12" Frankie Machine and a taste of Lori's Knish. When Ghandi or Albert Sweitzer faced similar dilemma's they would hold a Prayer
    Circle, previously known as a Circle Jerk. We can only hope he'll regroup, go back off his medication, and return to the ugly, sniveling, fiercely jealous, lousy actor guy we love.

  2. I'm not sure where to post this. The organization of this blog does suck, but I guess that's in keeping with the spirit of the thing.
    I just got back from vacation and a quick perusal of recent posts show that Frank is indeed dead weight, writing only one post to about ten of Conor's. Now, this might just be because Frank has a real job, but I'm also wondering if his popularity is sliding. Frank's posts, I've noticed, tend to be gently witty and thoughtful, unlike Conor's, which are precisely written to send readers to either therapy, skid row or reality television. Frank, if you're really in the bad advice business, you're going to have to step it up.

  3. Dear Frank and Conor,
    This is what blogs are for! How come informative blogs are so tedious, while frivolous blogs like your, with absolutely no utility or social value, are so entertaining? By the way, I love your photo; I didn't know it was possible to look so earnest, yet incompetent at the same time.

  4. Bobcatty,
    Yes, Brother Conor definitely has the Queen of Mean style down pat. Frank, on the other hand, does plays a different but major role. He is, simply stated, the Wind Beneath Idyllwild's Wings.
    Bro Conor will no doubt cast some aspersion about Frank's flatulence problem, but that's expected and OK.
    Regarding Gregarious Loner's remark about the Bro's photo, I think
    they've captured the PeeWee Herman, George Burns, Chimpanzee,
    look perfectly.

  5. Dear concerned,
    Don't concern yourself, however this jealous actor is impressed with your reference to bad 80's sitcoms. While you were out boning Bea Arthur in you mind's eye, I was pounding the streets of NYC trying to make something of this very confusing ride we call, blogging. I ate three guys like you before breakfast. So, don't concern yourself about me, hold your own "prayer meeting" while thinking about MacKenzie Phillips making you eggs in the morning.

  6. Welcome Home Bobcatty,
    So good to have you back. I hope your vacation was both stimulating and relaxing. Since you're the only one who gets it, I have to say I missed you. I find it funny that you think Frank has a "real job". If you think breaking egg yolks while flipping pancakes is a real job...well then, I want you to run my escort service. But I'm glad that you recognize the real talent in this partnership. As far as our picture goes, we're just trying to keep it real; which is more than I can say about the "anonymous" responders to this blog, who by writing in their superfluous comments, and by doing so, avoid the real existiental problems of their miserable lives, don't pay due homage to what Frank and I are trying to do for them. In short, jack up their lives. But you get it. I tip my hat to you and please send us some real problems to botch up.

  7. Dear Life is Good
    Queen of Mean? On a good day I happen to be a very nice fellow. I just don't have many good days. Frank? The wind beneath Idyllwild's wings? Try, the wind beneath Idyllwild's kayak seat. But who cares? I have to ask, however, WHAT IS YOUR QUESTION????? This is called Bad Advice in the Morning, not, Half Assed Comments in the Morning. I'm glad life is good for you, but most of us have problems that need addressing, so that we can make even stupider choices and make worse, our already messed up situations. Put your life into our hands, and we'll have you flying half cocked through the skies of life in no time.

  8. Life is Still GoodAugust 15, 2009 at 5:12 PM

    Dear Queen, If you would get your head out of you ass for once, you would realize the underlying question in my blog. I forget you are incapable of reading or sensing anything beyond the obvious. Abstract reasoning usually comes at 8 or 9 years old. You have a few mental years to go.
    The Question always is, why does Frank continue his friendship with you? The "half assed comments", as you refer to them, are a ruse to draw you out to see if there is possibly anything worthwhile or redeeming that you have to say about anything.
    I have turned your blogs over to the D.A.'s office in connection with several unsolved incidents involving llamas. That's the real reason the llama farm moved away a couple of years ago. The poor things were found with their cute paws taped together, the tops of their heads dyed strawberry blond and sheet music to "I Feel Pretty" stuffed in their pouches. They were humiliated and asked to be placed in a witness protection program far away from any ham actors.
    OK so you want to give some advice. Here goes. I was born with 7 toes on my right foot. It has always been a source of embarrassment and as a result, I always wear socks. Women I meet and then want to go to bed with, have interpreted my not taking my socks off as trying to make our lovemaking like a porno flick. While this has served me well on occasions, it has prevented me from meeting a "nice" girl. I know you're going to tell me that nice girls are overrated, but you don't know the pain I have suffered.
    What can I do to improve my self esteem and find happiness in Idyllwild? Where do you suggest I hang out to meet accepting women other than Barnum & Bailey's side shows?
    Do you think the Ramona Bowl would be a good start for me? I understand that that's where Frank met Lori.
    Please try to show sensitivity with your advice.

  9. dear Life is still Good,
    I have to say, I'm a little upset and taken back by your comments...I didn't know that the Llama farm moved off the hill. Hearing this news second hand and on the internet to boot is quite a slap in the face. I had no idea the Llamas felt this way, I was under the impression that our relationship was consensual. My head is spinning and I'm a little beside myself, to say the least. As to your problem, having lost my sensitivity in the same place my head appears to be, you're probably best to pose your question to Frank. He is, after all, the man with the lighter touch. If, however, I were you I'd give up on Idyllwild altogether, according to those little pop ups on your computer screen, all the hot chicks are in Moreno Valley and they're waiting for your call.

  10. Moreno Valley? Is that near Fern Valley? How can I give up on Idyllwild now? Jazz Festival is next week and last year I met this great chick in the French Quarter who let me buy her all kinds of jewelry and then led me to a porta potty where she cleaned my pipes as well as let me flush her valve.
    Wasn't exactly a Kodak moment, but I am going back this year to see if a $100 worth of jewelry will get me close to some drunk females septic tank.
    Conor, are my priorities screwed up? Should I question my values and goals? I'm really a good looking, bright, hetero guy. Maybe I should become a plumber, as their terminology really turns me on.
    I need your advice quickly as it's less than a week to the Jazz Fest.

  11. Good afternoon,
    I am a sensitive, shy, yet hot tempered Austrolopithicane-Erectus (I think) who lives all alone in the Great Forest. My tragedy is that it has come to my awareness that some creature, who hails himself as the "Idyllbeast" has stolen my identity. Just plain wrong.
    Furthermore, it is very difficult and tedious for me to obtain from the mother earth, all the neccesities for existasnce. But then again, it is not-so-bad.

    My advice is: you much more advanced and civilized folks should appreciate the endless beauty and comfort all around Idyllwild, both big and small, tiny or tall, or I just might be forced to eat you.


    The Tahquitz Monster

  12. Dear roto rooter man,
    I had no idea the Jazz Festival was such a hotbed of pseudo-plumbing activity. If you're getting so many calls from bored housewives with clogged pipes, I say, by all means, make the career change. Tighten up your monkey wrench, lube up your plumber's crack (for that glistening effect) and get down to that Jazz Festival and keep the fluids flowing. Follow your bliss, this could be a defining moment in your life. As far as you being a "good looking, hetero-guy"? You're delusional.


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