As fearless accountant and renegade practitioner of the anti-social graces, Stan Frank was never one to hold his unbridled tongue-unless his "colorful" mother was trying forcefully to check his taste buds for airborne bug appendages. His controversial insights and acid commentary on the great big sandbox of life offer conclusive evidence, sadly, that more gritty, itchy granules wound up in his trunks than in his dream castle. If it's true that every dark cloud has a silver lining, the one sewn into the billowy overhead mass assigned to the author must have been severely ripped and leaking ax-shaped hailstones. Although the deceased Mr. Frank's final remembrances were horrifically hellish, each jaw-dropping journal entry is dark-humored heaven His penned contemplations will probably leave you highly offended, but you may at first find yourself laughing too hard to notice. Stan Frank-disgraced book keeper, failed lover and friend, human-nature student, uncensored political pun-dit and laid-to-rest individual whose decomposed anatomy, according to him, "will still contain more signs of active intelligence than a bipartisan-party think-tank driven by Donald Rumsfeld, John Kerry, Jerry Falwell, Howard Dean look-alike Barbra Streisand and myopic twin-sister Al Franken." We don't know how well his hot-button advice will play in the next life. But here's to you, Stan Frank. May you suggest in peace. For those medicated souls craving more information about the sinkable Stan Frank, e-mail Minister Shadowcrewe at hohohoitzmagic@yahoo.com.
评价“The Diary Of Stan Frank”