frank lee's blog

It's me again with another post about how fetid the Fort is.

My toilet was acting up, so I looked inside the tank and saw this:

My landlord pays the water bill, so I doubt he put bricks in my tank
because he's worried about Mother Earth. More likely, he's concerned
about his wallet. File this under 'doing good for the wrong reasons.'

I found this on a lamp post downtown. It's one of those qr barcode stickers. It reads "I am Narcoze."
Oh yeah?


Well, translate this one, hombre:

Psst! You wanna have a good time? How about throwing the shoes your daddy bought you into the telephone wires
over on 15th in the Fort! Yeah, baby, that's the ticket! Afterwards, we'll go get shit-faced and puke on the carpet.
Oh man, we're really living now!

Some people strive for a higher purpose and to make a difference in this world. But sometimes it's best not to bother and revel in the despair of it all. That's what I did this morning as I ventured forth into the miasma of Fort Sanders this rainy, dreary dawn.

No, reader, this isn't a cornor in Calcutta. It's in the Fort, of course! I'd like to hear what the boys from dumpster company say when they come upon this scene on Monday morn. It would make good copy.

I'm struck by all the abandoned foot-wear littering the streets. It looks like the Wicked Witch from the Wizard of Oz was on the Henley Street Bridge last night.

For those of you not in the know, Fort Sanders is the student ghetto for the University of Tennessee. Hell, the entire town of Knoxville is, but Fort Sanders especially. It's where kids fresh outta bum shit hollow Tennessee come and discover drinking! Holy Cow! You mean I can stay up all night, drink beer and get pissed? Incredible! Every fall semester, it's the same old story of kids rediscovering the wheel. I submit to you, fair reader, the picture I took on this Saturday morn, just when another fetid dawn was breaking out over the Fort.

I took this pic at the corner of 17th & Laurel on a sad Sunday morn ...

Somebody had abandoned the rancid couch the day before and the
following nite somebody else torched the damn thing. Nice!
This neighborhood is a zoo without a keeper.

I found this in a back issue of MetroPulse ...