Can I Be Frank & Crew?

So You Like Taking Scandalous Pictures….

Well it turns out Jennifer Lawrence and Kate Upton are just as freaky as the rest of us. If that comes as a surprise then you’re probably the same person who thinks their naked snap chats really disappear when the timer is up. How can these smart, successful, media savvy women not realize everything they have ever recorded is stored somewhere? I mean come on people that’s internet 101!

That being said, I am in no way defending the low-life who posted these pictures (that I may or may not have almost missed my fantasy football draft trying to find–> see this article is sports related). This guy or gal is the scum of the earth and I’m sure there is a special place in hell for him or her.

Anyway I digress…. Here at Can I Be Frank and Crew we try not to judge, but rather offer up helpful solutions. In order to keep you out of a similar situation here are seven easy things you can do when you feel the urge to take that NFSW photo.

Read the Can I Be Frank and Crew Blog

(Hey you’re doing that already! You’re off to a great start!)

Measure animals while they eat

(So far my study has concluded cats, dogs, and small people aren’t thrilled to be measured while eating… btw I’m always looking for interns to help with my study)

Take naked regular pictures

(It may be tough to believe, but the camera still works with your clothes on)

Clean your pump shotty

(That’s a shot gun–> great for getting rid of gators and the always annoying fruit fly)

Develop your own language

(That’ll ensure you’ll have no one to send those scandalous selfies to)

Take a cold shower

(actually scratch that… you’ll be in your birthday suit and I’ve heard stories of people mistaking a towel for their phone, and snapping a few pictures just to make sure)

Ummm…. Let’s see….. You could….. hmm… Aw screw it! Kim Kardashian got famous for a sex tape so who knows the world could be your oyster!

Can I Be Frank, Frank McCabe, Uncategorized

Back to School: See ya suckas!

” Bloody lips and cherry wine
Moonshine in your hair
Just keep staring at the sun
Pray for summer’s end”
– Foo Fighters

Christmas? Pretty good.

Birthday? It’s OK.

Thanksgiving? Getting warmer.

No, the best day of the year is Back to School Day!

High Fives all around, TB!!!

That glorious September morning when we usher off our little cherubs to annoy a new pack of adults for 6 hours per day. Many Moms and Dads wax sadly about the end of summer and all the fun and great times they had with their kids during their warm weather hitus from their pencils and books. With all due respect; piss off people. I’ll offer up the gratuitous “I love my kids more than anything” blah blah blah crap so none of you dinks call DSS on me, but if I am being truthful (as all you parents should be about this subject), back to school day is. just. awesome.

Not sure about you, but by the dog days of summer, my kids are in need of the structure of school, the discipline of homework and simply just need to be the hell away from us.

To my teacher friends, thank you. You are doing God’s work. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to freshen up my wife’s Manhattan.

See ya suckas, don’t forget your lunch boxes!

Austin Fontanella, Sports

How I Earned 2nd Place in my Sprint Triathlon

No that is not a typo. The picture below (as in the bottom of the article) will prove that yours truly grabbed a silver medal for my age group in the Check for Change Sprint Triathlon. Now I know what you’re thinking, and yes the triathlon groupies were fighting each other to mob me on the podium. What should also be known is that the only other age group I would have medaled in was women age 65+. Finally there were only four competitors in my bracket. I’m pretty sure one missed the race completely and the guy who came in third only had one leg.

Having gotten that little asterisk out of the way let’s look at the distances before I dive into this medal winning performance. The race broke down as follows; 0.5 mile swim, 17 mile bike ride, and a 3.5 mile run. Not to toot my own horn here but:

My day started at the early hour of 6 am when we woke up in panic because no one set an alarm. That left this rag tag crew (my parents and myself) just 10 minutes to leave the hotel in order to still make it there on time. Following check-in we were given some prerace advice from the official timer of the day. His simple words of wisdom,

“If you are a slower swimmer make sure you hang out in the back or you will get run over in the water.”

With those encouraging sentiments we were off! Let me tell you, swimming in a lake where you can’t touch the bottom is a whole hell of a lot different than practicing in a pool. I got about halfway through the swim when I realized I was not only exhausted but in the middle of this God forsaken body of water. Drowning was not my first choice, but I figured it beat being the one person who needed a lifeguard to take them back to shore. Plus if I really went under I could have at least tried to copy Squints from, The Sandlot.

Once I got back to dry land I almost fell over on the way to the bike station. Not only were my legs shot, but I’m pretty sure I was carrying extra weight having taken in about three gallons of lake water. Things did not get any easier once I hopped on the bike. I was quickly reminded how competitive this “fun” event was when a middle aged woman rocking a cyclist tramp stamp yelled some choice words at me for being too far over as she sped by. As I tried to catch her, and yell something snarky back, I quickly regained my appreciation for the automobile. I promised from that moment on I would never again complain about good old Chuck the Truck (yea that’s the truck’s name). In addition, once I got home I’d give him/her (haven’t decided if it’s a boy or girl yet) a hug and then wash him/her myself.

When I arrived at the starting point for the running portion I was met with yet another crushing blow. This time it wasn’t a physical aliment, but rather a right hook straight to the ego. As I began the final leg I heard a familiar voice pass on by. That voice belonged to my 50+ year old dad. Not only did it seem like he was growing stronger with each step (like some evil villain gaining strength from the misery of others), but his wave kicked off a minute after mine. As he motored along out of sight I wondered if the ambulance bill would have been worth it in order to solidify my fake injury and save some face. Seeing how my income puts me below the poverty line I decided to suck it up and finish the stupid thing. For the next three miles I powered the little will I had left by cursing everything from the girl who gave me my race packet to the founding fathers who by setting up this great country kicked off a series of events which led me to this paved hell.

Now that I’ve had time to think about my performance I can promise one thing; I will never again run any race of any distance. If I am challenged in the future I will simply point to my silver medal, which I’m getting tattooed on me, and retell this story. Leaving out some of the details of course.

Medal Winner — A man we can all strive to be

Dan Tobin, Uncategorized

Eulogy for the Caswell

Lowell Sun

TEWKSBURY — A strip of molding is peeling off the wood-paneled walls of Room 251 at the Motel Caswell, and there’s a small hole in the wall that won’t be repaired.

The bed has been made for the last time, but those in neighboring rooms are stripped, with red and green paisley comforters lying in heaps on the pavement just beyond the door.

Outside, owner Russ Caswell and his son Jay are clearing out nearby rooms, removing televisions, but leaving most of the furniture for the wrecking ball.

The Motel Caswell, which has been owned by the Caswell family for nearly 60 years, hosted its last guests Sunday night.

It’s set to be demolished next month to make way for an entertainment complex, marking the end of an era on this stretch of Route 38.
“It’s a big change. I guess you’d call it a lot of mixed feelings,” Caswell said.

The motel was the site of a seizure attempt by the federal government under drug-forfeiture laws, which Caswell fought and won in 2013. But before it became known for a number of closed-door drug deals and prostitution stings, the Motel Caswell was a family business, the place where a teenage Caswell started his working life.

Good Morning,

I’m here today….(pulling it together…dusty in here.)…excuse me (clearing throat)…I’m here today to celebrate the life of the Motel Caswell. To many, the Caswell was an old, “past it’s time” motel in a location that nobody in their right mind would ever stop or even let their car idle, let alone spend the night. To the town of Tewksbury, the property was an embarrassing blight on their “magnificent mile” of nail salons, and roast beef joints…preventing big ticket industry like bowling alley’s, and batting cages from turning the place into Dubai. But to those of us gathered here today, the Caswell was our friend. A loyal friend. A friend that was always there for us when you were at your lowest. When you needed a cozy, judgement free bed to sleep off the eleven lunchtime Jade East Mai Tai’s before doing your afternoon school bus route, the Caswell was there. When you needed a meth lab in a pinch, the Caswell was there. When your wife’s restraining order was about to expire, and you had nothing romantic planned…heart shaped tubs…all you can handle. The Caswell was there. A man on a plane once said to me, “If you’ve been to 2 Hilton’s, you’ve been to them all.” Well sir, nobody will ever say that about the Caswell. Wallet friendly rates, maid service, drive-thru hookers…real keys. The Caswell was there.

(Dusty again…clearing throat.)

The Caswell was there.

Anger, Pistoffirishman, Uncategorized

Uzi Dazzy

An Arizona shooting instructor died after the 9-year-old girl he was teaching to use an Uzi accidentally shot him in the head, according to the Associated Press.

Charles Vacca, 39, was standing next to the girl Monday morning, offering instruction at a shooting range in White Hill, about an hour southeast of Las Vegas, authorities told Phoenix station KTVK.

Mohave County Sheriff Jim McCabe told the Las Vegas Review-Journal that the girl had safely fired the gun many times when it was set in the “single-shot” mode. But then the gun was put into fully automatic mode, and that’s when it recoiled and fired off multiple rounds. The girl lost control of the gun as it went above her head, and she shot Vaca.

“The guy just dropped,” McCabe told Review-Journal.

Vaca died after being airlifted to a hospital in Las Vegas, the Associated Press reported.

The girl was vacationing with her parents, from New Jersey, and was visiting Last Stop Arizona, where the Burgers and Bullets shooting range is located, the Review-Journal reported.

The shooting range’s Web site says the minimum age for the “ground adventure” is 8, and children ages 8 to 17 “must be accompanied by parent or legal guardian at all times.”

McCabe said that no charges will be filed in the incident.

Okay everybody get the colored ribbons out, lets start a ice bucket challenge for these people, lets talk about what a tragedy this is and how it could be prevented in the future. How about this assholes…not giving a goddamn Uzi to a 9 year old? This isn’t Red Dawn here people; Swayze isn’t teaching this girl how to survive the Commies, it’s people on vacation hoping to Facebook something to Grandma. I wouldn’t let a 9 year old hold a bottle of ketchup near me never mind a gun that can mow down the starting lineup of the Red Sox. Unless he whispered in her ear that “One Direction sucks“, I am guessing this is just a accident. Not a tragic accident, just an accident. A tragic accident would be if he only had one more day of work before retirement. We can look at the bright side of this accident, she will probably never have a issue with boys making fun of her. She will most likely be cast in the Expendables 4, and she can always say “remember that time in Arizona when I killed a guy“.

(Red from Shawshank Redemption Voice Over)

I’d like to think the last thing that went through that instructors head, other than that bullet, was ‘what the hell am I doing helping a 9 year old girl shoot a stupid ass target? Well, at least I only got one more day til retirement’.

Sports

Women Can Throw Haymakers Too!

What do you get when you mix scantily clad women and bad blood? Well it goes a little something like this…. (You might want to turn off the sound if you’re at work)

Apparently this whole ugly mess started when players of the Jacksonville Breeze exchanged some less than friendly words with the Atlanta Steam. Take a look as even the coaches weren’t spared! Yes that’s Atlanta’s Coach Dane Robinson taking a mighty blow from Linebacker Adrian Purnell (pictured below). I know this is the LFL but if you’re crazy enough to be a linebacker in a league where the uniform is self described as lingerie that’s not a person I want to mess with.

Oh and on a side note Atlanta won 20-12 and now will face the Chicago Bliss in the championship game.