Frank can't help the state of the world. He can't help feeling the state of disorder that has manifest itself upon his person isn't the result of some mixing of the interplanetary flux to which he was not a party. Frank has a rule. No parties. Frank avoids the social intermixing and entertaining scene as if it was a stretch bus pursuing him down a one way darkened street on a night when the howling of the wolves was ringing clankety klank through the chambers of hell. Frank likes to be alone. Don't mean he has nothing to say.
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