Dear Frankie
Pooey! Has someone let off in here or is it just your attitude
that STINKS? Yes Frankie Alan from Lip Service, I'm-a talkin' to
you. First of all, let me be totally clear, this letter is only to
Frankie and not to the actress Ruta Gedmintas before all you 'Lip
Servants' out there are calling for my head on a stick on the roof
of DIVA HQ.
So Frankie, everyone's against you aren't they? The world owes you
a LOT and you're not going to stop screwing the rest of us over
until you get your just deserts. You're such a rebel, smoking in
the non-smoking areas, skulking endlessly down the cobbles of
Glasgow until your dirty converse are worn right through and
snorting coke like it's the 90s, including the obligatory post-coke
taking nose rub and edgy sniff. Whilst we're on the subject of
booze and drugs, I don't think you're actually doing them right?
Aren't they supposed to make you feel good? Oh...that's right,
nothing feels good in the tortured life of Frankie.
It must be really tough sleeping with all those beautiful women
and then having them chase after you and of course it's not them
that are feeling the pain of all this, it's you, so troubled. I do
understand why most of your 'intimate' times with women are one
offs though. You look like an awful lover, your technique similar
to that of a frantic teenager trying to dislodge a Mars bar from a
malfunctioning vending machine. Horrifying! Let's not dwell too
much on your commandeering of a strap-on either. Your coital
posture is not dissimilar to what I imagine John Prescott looks
like when he's rutting the lovely Pauline. Lastly, sex in a morgue
is NEVER cool, well it is...but...well, you know what I mean
Francesca.
So what is it that the lovely Cat sees in you? Maybe she likes a
good seeing to from the vending machine engineer from time to time,
but what is it you want from her? What do you think you two'll
actually do together when you rip her away from the perfect Sam and
have ruined her life? Pick up dirty towels and neurotically worry
about client meetings? No, didn't think so. You don't really want
her, you just want what you can't have, I can partly empathise with
you on this point, it's 'uman nature isn't it.
Unfortunately you even failed at your one main party trick this
week, that is, being a total shag monster and choked at the last
moment with Glaswegian von blonde hair leaving her high and dry
after the promise of soulless body bumping you undoubtedly gave her
at the salubrious Rubies. So, no job, no mojo, bad hair, what's
next for Frankie? Hopefully you run into an equally bad egg post
haste and due to the similarly abhorrent personalities you will
cause each other to be sucked into some horrible bad egg vortex
especially created when two particularly chunty people collide. Or
whatever.
I will leave you to ponder on something a very wise woman once
said to you in a park in Glasgow on Friday last week. "Sort
yourself out and stop being a fucking cock".
P.s Leave lovely Cat alone
P.p.s You have eyeliner all over your FACE.
Yours most sincerely,
Laura x
