It only took me about two seconds to totally dig Michael Franklin’s style. That’s because it only took about two seconds for his ladymeat rocker Angela to start talking about how, oftentimes, Michael strips buck fucking naked when playing his guitar. Judge Lynn is all “full-frontal nudity” and Michael just grins and says “it’s a rock-and-roll show, what do you want” and then throws the fucking horns up.
ROCK AND MOTHERFUCKING ROLL!!!
Anyway, he’s got all sorts of marks on his face and don’t like how Angela is spying on him on the Facebook and whatnot.
Anyway, they got a “van bus” for the band. And he brought his pal Quintin Hagle into court and Quentin’s in the band.
“I’m in a band, you know. I play rock and roll music. It’s what I do. And it requires a particular lifestyle and some people just can’t handle it,” rockbro says. “When I married her, she was like Joan Jett and now she’s turned into Martha Stewart. I don’t know what to do with that.”
Then, she starts complaining about how he gets nude’n’shit and “I really don’t want to be considered the wife of The Naked Man.”
Fuck. That. Michael ain’t normal. When they show a picture of him rocking in a loin cloth, he says, “I’m Jesus there.”
Mr. Hagel then pipes up that he, too, gets naked. So do a bunch of chicks at the show. There ain’t capital-enough capital letters to emphasize the FUCK YEAH that deserves.
Thing is, Angela Franklin’s kinda hot, especially when she says she’s alright with the nudity in the pursuit of art but then he spent 10 minutes in a bathroom stall with a chick fan that was fondling him on stage one time. This is pure rock and roll, sunshine. You gotta let Jesus be Jesus.
Oh, but then Jesus loses a little bit of cred when asked about fidelity and he asks what the definition of is is. Shit happens on the road.
Oh fuck, Quintin plays the motherfucking fiddle and calls Angela the Yoko of the deal. Dude’s a little bit of a weasel and he’s mooching of them and even Michael’s all like yeah, you could do a dish sometime.
So anyway, she stopped going to school so he could go on the road. He said she fell in love with a poet and an artist and this is what happens in that kind of world. He’s going to play a song in court now, too. He puts Quintin out of the way and starts singing and it’s really fucking bad to the point that I’m totally on Angela’s side now.
Art’s a fickle fucking thing, innit?
Postscript: The show saved their marriage. She went out on tour with the band. The band broke up. Now, they’re a duet.