Frank

It will be important to know where Frank Leigh Dearie grew up, whether he enjoyed baseball, how
he felt about guns, butter, the color yellow.

Frank said to Blossom, »I am the perfect anonymous internet entity, a user without a clause, a true blobular, modular internet citizen, a new man without qualities.«

»Or woman,« Blossom said, exhaling a plume of blue thyme.

»Mrs Sprindlebone!« cried Frank. »You have more polish than a zloty. Come with me down the lost highway and make yourself my compadre!«

Mrs. Bredalbane of Maida Vale takes one step, then another, and another, down the Lost Highway.

»Talking to you,« said Vidalia, »is like swallowing a waning moon.«

Frank lifted an eyebrow, spun on a heel, and continue to slope down the Lost Highway. After a few steps, he donned his green sunglasses.

A medicine man appeared on Frank's green horizon.

That afternoon, when civilization had triumphantly defeated nature in Franks mind, he found that his game of golf was even better than usual. He played with younger men, and, as he told Mrs. Bredalbane with pride upon his return, he had »polished them off nicely.« His face was still shining with pleasure when she captured him in the hall; and though he looked, as she said to herself, spindle-shanked in his stockings of Scotch plaid, his appearance, since he was unaware that it could strike anybody as ridiculous, failed to dampen his enthusiasm.

I met a boy named Frank Mills ...

Angela and I don't want our two dollars back, just him ...

(from _Hair_ but I believe it's in the public domain now)

just like anyone.
he's just like anybody.
just like anyone.
he's just like Frank.