Please!!!! Somebody put a gun to my head and put me out of my misery. Last night I had to sit across from Lou Bacher and hear him go on and on about how insignificant we all are. Lou, I've got news for you, we're significant, you, on the other hand, are replaceable. He just kept talking like he was giving us the keys to the kingdom, pearls from his fruitful years on the planet. Lou, if you've got so much insight, insight me this, why can't you grow hair? Look Lou, I've got a small, imperceivable place in my vastly overcrowded heart for you, but please, you may be Jewish but you're not Moses descending from the mountaintop, stone tablets in hand, ready to lead your people out of bondage (a particular favorite of mine) into the land of milk and honey (mind you, I'm lactose intolerant). In the words of the Great Liberator of the Jews : "Let my people go" from the torment of hearing Lou wax philospical on a Wednesday night. Lou, leave the bad advice to the professionals.

Did anyone watch the finale of the "Bachelorette" last night? I haven't been this upset since my days as a broadway dancer in New York back in the 70's. That time I was riding in an elevator with my "bro" Enrique, a saucy little Puerto Rican with a messiah complex, when I overheard two guys talking about the death of Gower Champion. Oh my gosh, why wasn't I told. Gower was my mentor and I his star pupil. Of course I was upset, why wouldn't I be? But even that doesn't compare with emotional backwash I felt last night watching Gillian agonize over her decision of who of the two remaining guys, whom she'd known for two months, should she spend the rest of her life with. Ed or Kipton? And then Rory shows up at 11th hour. Poor Gillian. What should she do? Who should she pick? Three men she truly loves, all three her true soul mates. I felt the pain of her dilemna. I was beside myself. Greek tragedy be damned, this is the drama of our times. All poor little Gillian wants is to find someone who will love her as much as she loves herself. Isn't that what we're all looking for? In the end Gillian chose Ed and it is my true hope for them that in course of their long blissful marriage that Ed will be able to repress his homosexual tendencies and make is bride the center of the universe that only she inhabits.

I just wanted to thank all the people who submitted ideas to help me out with Marshall Hawkins' roast. (that would be none of you) Your overwhelming response to my call for help was truly touching, I'm sure Marshall appreciated it too. The totally useless nature of our readership makes me want to dig deeper than ever before to deliver advise that will truly send your world into a tail spin. Your wealth of ideas and generous spirit will not be forgotten. Step up to the podium and speak into the microphone.

I feel so inspired today. I was just listening to my idol, Rush Limbaugh, the patron saint of bad advice, the Mothership, if you will. How uplifting to hear him go on and on about public life, though he has never held public office. He dispenses his train wreck opinions like a seasoned professor, though he never graduated college. I only hope that what little I do here can bring me yet another step lower into the lofty pit of opinion where he resides. I am not fit to paint his nails, not, however, from lack of trying. Hail Rush Limbaugh. We could all take a cue from him.

Hey Frankie, as you can see, that trip to Budapest did me a world of good. I am back with a vengence. Thanks for covering my smooth, freshly oiled back with your dry, hairy one. You are the King of Bro-back Mountain.

I'm Back. As Frank informed y'all, I was in Zurich for the "Bad Advice World Symposium". This was an outright lie or Frank was sadly mistaken....I was not in Zurich!!!!....I was in Budapest for the symposium. It was spectacular!!!! I have never seen so many unqualified people assembled together in one room in all my life. The seminars were so "eye opening"...which was a life saver since I was ASLEEP most of the time. I was like a fish out of water without my "Bro-heim" Francis Machine. These people didn't have a clue. The founders of the IBOBAP (international brotherhood of bad advice practitioners) would have rolled over in their graves. These guys were sheep in wolves clothing. They cared way too much for others and possessed the insight and life experience that could make a real difference in people's lives. I've seen the future faces of this movement, that has totally screwed up the lives of so many, and it is not pretty my friends. No matter how benevolent and helpful our fellow IBOBAP members become, Frank and I will continue to destroy lives with our half baked opinions and our total disregard for the well being of others so long as the breath is still in us....this is my promise to you!!! It is good to be home.

Now let's get down to business.... In Bliss,
In what universe would you think that I would need a pump to make my lady smile. You've obviously confused me with Buddy Hackett. I am a pot stickin', heart poundin', bowl lickin', slim pickin', meat grindin' hunk of burnin' love. But my advice to YOU is to return that piece Junk back to the toothless hillbilly that sold it to you. Try an automatic milking machine, much faster and twice as effective....but it really pisses the cows off.

On another note, let's start commenting on this post site. Our original post, at the bottom of the page, now has 90 some comments and I'm tired of scrolling down. Let's start a new right HERE and NOW.

On yet another note, what's with all the thinly veiled sexual innuendos, wrapped in a question, shrouded in a connundrum? Surely y'all can do better. Sex is easy for guys like Frank and I. Give us something to work with, something we can really sink our teeth in. Let's mix it up and bring it down to the next level.

Start COMMENTING HERE. And remember the psuedonyms.

It's monday night and I need some fresh material for "roasting" Marshall Hawkins tomorrow night. Come on people throw me a bone here. Let's make Tuesday "Let's roast Marshall Hawkins Day". Give him your best shot and let him know you care.

This "bromance" thing really seems to have taken off. I think it's time to get our jargon straight. I propose we all create a lexicon of "Bromance". Submit your Bro-words and definition so we can begin to compile a record. I see a book here.

Jim Crandall has suggested that Frank and I should post a daily topic to start the day off. I think it's a great idea. The first topic of the day is: Should we start a petition calling for Jim Crandall's resignation from the Town Crier. Give us your thoughts.

Dear Rebecichica or whatever you're calling yourself tonight. If I were you I'd go with neopolitan. You could sport strawberry, chocolate and vanilla alll at the same time. Then wrap yourself in a waffle cone and you'd be a real treat on a hot summer day. Just thank your lucky stars you still have some hair to be confused about. But keep changing your hair color every week and pretty soon you'll look like Frank, then you and I could have bromance.

While comparisons to Iconic figures like Jerry Lewis and Art Carney are very flatering and words like Bromance can be aplicable in some cases. We understand that it is not uncommon for patients to fixate and develop crushes on thier physicians.Conor for instance thought he was in love with his colon therapist for almost six months last year but eventually got it all out of his system. We like to think of ourselves as Brofesionals or at the very least Bromodels for all of you out there.Remember,this column is for and about you. Although bad advice may at first glance be easy to come by. Really good bad advice is only available here.

just Testing

Trying to see if Frank is logging in correctly go dispense bad advice.

All you worried, hurting and confused; Frank and I are up and running. Come and cry on our shoulders, tell us your problems and we'll be happy to give you the worst advise possible. It may not help but it could hurt. If you have a question you need help with use the comment key and let our years of bad decisions be your guide. Below is a template to help you get started.


Dear Frank and Conor being the wise, incredibly attractive and sexy men that you are maybe you can help me with a Problem.......

It's that easy and you're on your way. We're waiting.