Watch The 'To Be Frank' Promo Reel
Fragments of Frank
A few unfiltered musings from the pages of To Be Frank. There's plenty more where that came from—God help us all.
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"Falco was by now swigging the remains of the second bottle of Dom and Bobby was attacking the six cans of Tennet's lager and box of sour cream and onion Pringles that passed as the Hogmanay Rider."
"Naomi checked her social media accounts as she got ready for the meeting. She saw Frank had written the usual mad bollocks witha a hint of truth in it and was calling for all tourists including the English to be banned from Edinburgh during Hogmanay."
"Frank thought The Kidddy Vapers was a good name for a band, then realised he was shouting this aloud due to being off his tits and at the stage of the evening where he was talking tripe to anyone who'd listen."
"Today, dear readers, I am launching a one-man crusade to have all babies and dogs banned from cafes. We need to wrestle back control from these Apostles of Satan, these Angels of the Devil who roam amongst us guarded by the Beasts of Revelation. The future of humanity and flat whites is at stake here. For God's sake, repent!"
"A father and son team; Daddy Beater wearing a little West Ham badge on his jacket, and Baby Beater wearing a little obligatory Clone Island jumper to go with his soon-to-be pish-stained joggin bottoms. Cans cracked open, one was offered to the mum, who politely declined."
"He held court for a bit, telling anyone who'd listen that Roger Moore was the best Bond, why two serves should be scrapped in tennis (slows the game down), why Buckingham Palace should be turned into a giant Wetherspoons and his plans to open an adult-only cafe on Portobello promenade with no babies or dogs allowed."
"Frank took a deep breep breath and concentrated on going in through the nose and out through the mouth, a trick he had picked up with Bridget at a Pilates class they had gone to in a bid to do "more stuff together". She filed for divorce a month later."
"You can have your mate back, Savage. He can talk for fucking Pakistan, India and Nepal, that cunt. Never shuts up. Joanna Lumley this, Joanna Lumley that, then it was on to The Specials and how there should only be one serve in tennis.
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"A shite Pamela Anderson lookalike in a Baywatch swimsuit, who looked like she'd had a hard time on the crystal meth, let out a blood curdlin scream as the Dookers tried to take in the full horror unravelling before their eyes."
